Chapter 267: Destroying the Old Tomb

The battle on World 154-4 is over.

Konrad Curze and the mortal Fass dealt with all matters concerning the Eldar, discussing, assigning tasks, and issuing orders, and for the sake of convenience, they used the Eldar language directly in all these processes.

This left the remaining Primarchs sitting together, looking at each other, waiting for Curze to make arrangements and give them a definite answer.

"He's there," Perturabo emphasized the first word, "He, vouched for Curze."

"We know, Perturabo," Fulgrim said, suddenly remembering the pterosaur skin that Curze had peeled off on the battlefield, and then fell back into the field in the chaos. He felt a little sorry for this, although there seemed to be little reason.

The Purple Phoenix took off his gauntlet and moved his fingers.

"Eldar, humans, let Konrad Curze do it, and you, Vulkan," he sent a look to Vulkan, awakening the Fire Dragon Lord who was looking in the direction of the Eldar, "This is the battle achievement of the Salamanders, maybe you can go and have a look?"

"Good suggestion." Vulkan stood up and grinned, having recovered from his previous fluctuating mood. "Ibsen's affairs are also my responsibility. I'll go and have a look."

"His kindness is fatal. And what is this?" Ferrus, who is not very talkative, spoke and commented on Vulkan. His eyes were always focused on Perturabo's mechanical body, "How do you place your consciousness on steel? The characteristic migration of Magnus's spiritual transmission technology?"

"Why do you infer this?" Perturabo asked.

Ferrus also took off his gauntlet and relaxed his tired hands in the air due to the battle. The silver light flowed on his arms, like some unique active substance with alternative vitality.

"Very similar," he said. "If the other half of your bionic skin is not damaged, it will be more similar to his hull-shaping technology."

Magnus sounded like he had finally completed his hull transfer technology. Perturabo thought. It was a miracle that his own efforts would succeed.

"Perhaps his technology is similar to mine?" Perturabo made a small joke and shook his head.

Fulgrim was the only one who laughed, and considering the personalities of the remaining Ferrus and Rogal Dorn, this was already a successful joke.

After laughing, Fulgrim coughed lightly and straightened his posture. His moving face was more beautiful because of his seriousness. "If you want to turn your acquaintance with Konrad Curze into another privacy among the countless secrets of the Iron Warriors, we will respect your wishes. After today, the scanning array of the Emperor's Pride can assume that it has not seen a strange machine."

"Same." Ferrus said. "But excellent technology is worth sharing."

"It depends on your wishes." Dorn added.

"And you, Dorn. In Nostramo, you were hinting at my presence to Conrad." Perturabo pondered for a moment, "Yes, we are both there."

Dorn's stern face flashed a smile. "For you," he said, "it's good news."

"Yes, for me." Perturabo nodded slightly. "I think the same is true for the Empire."

Fulgrim supported his chin and watched the two men playing their riddles. Not only did he not look confused, but he was quite interested.

"Again," he said dramatically, "the mystery between the Iron Warriors and the Imperial Fists. As necessary as the sunrise and sunset... or as necessary as the gravity of the planet, after all, we have just passed through the eternal night of Nostramo."

"Not really," Dorn retorted, spreading his palms with bright yellow gauntlets, "We do not make secrets without reason."

Perturabo sighed in his mechanical voice, "Don't use a personal pronoun, Rogal Dorn, you do not make secrets without reason, and I do not make secrets without reason."

"I can feel the difference, but I think it is an unnecessary correction. In fact, it will have the opposite semantic reinforcement effect." Dorn said seriously.

"I think you just didn't understand Perturabo's hint, Rogal." Fulgrim shrugged, his white hair hanging on his shoulder armor, shining slightly.

"And he is refutating me literally," Perturabo said. "In a sense, this is also a meaningful discussion."

Rogal Dorn put his hands together again, "Perturabo is right, and at the same time, I can understand the humor in this sentence. If you really need me to explain..."

"When will they finish the discussion?" Ferrus's silver mirror-like eyes reflected Vulkan's location.

Dorn closed his mouth silently, and looked in another direction with the other Primarchs.

——

Vulkan followed Konrad Curze and walked towards the World Temple, which was originally located in the center of the barrier. The huge stone blocking the temple gate had been moved away, and they went deep into the cave, through the corridor painted with Eldar runes, and approached the core of the temple.

"So..." Vulkan asked, looking at the web snake runes with snake tails extending from the mural, "According to you, there are also different factions among the Eldar?"

"That's true, but it's just a statement. I have no intention of defending the reputation of any Eldar." Curze said, leading Vulkan down the stairs step by step. All the weird totems and blasphemous idols here made Vulkan feel unhappy.

"I have something to show you, Vulkan." Coze said, stepping aside so that Vulkan, who was following him, could directly see the center of the circular temple.

Mortals, no doubt human mortals, were gathering here in droves, looking up in fear at the tall bodies of the two Primarchs; their priests murmured softly, gently comforting each frightened native.

Vulkan's eyes were naturally attracted to the bright light in the center of the rotunda.

A bright ring of fire illuminated a frail Eldar who was tied to a stone pillar and impaled by a metal spike. She was dying, held upright only by the torture devices that bound her.

When Vulkan saw the face of the Eldar clearly, the memories of the past came instantly, like the ash left behind after the Nocturne volcano erupted, covering the sky and rolling endlessly.

"Twilight Ghost..." he whispered, his fists clenching involuntarily.

This was the Eldar raider who wreaked havoc on Nocturne in the past. Vulkan was present when the nightmare-like vicious blade of the witch in front of him pierced the belly of Blacksmith Brohar and disembowelled the heroic mortal.

His fist recalled the feeling of knocking the witch away, and the deep feeling of powerlessness in his heart when the witch was able to escape and disappear through the slit, leaving a mess of purgatory.

"According to the laws of the empire..." Coze's voice came faintly, and Vulkan took a sharp breath and broke away from the memory.

Coates stared at his sad face and continued softly: "Second-degree murder, that is, the murder of at least two civilians, with a minimum sentence of ten years of slavery; crime of blasphemy, first-degree assault, intentional attack on nobles and public servants, the sentence Life imprisonment, machine slavery, or death; second-degree intentional and repeated assault on civilians, three to ten years; second-degree simple kidnapping, twenty to thirty years of slavery; armed robbery, ten to twenty years of slavery; arson, Sentence to death or penal camp..."

"Since we are on the home planet of the Empire's original body, we will be convicted according to the punishments of the Empire. I will not list all these crimes one by one. I personally think that I should be sentenced to servitude for five hundred to seven hundred years, or be used as a machine servant until it is scrapped. It is more in line with the empire's judgment standards." Koz paused, "But I will hand this wizard over to you, Vulcan, because more specifically, the place where she committed evil is under your jurisdiction."

Conrad Coates's step-by-step verdict relieved Vulcan's anger.

If Curze were not here, whether human or Eldar, he would probably purify everyone in this cave with fire, because they would not be able to obey the control of the Empire. But Curze provided another possibility, and from this perspective, Vulkan was grateful to him.

"According to...the laws of Gemo?" Vulkan asked.

"Gemor will not execute the plunderer unless she is a loser." Coze said, walking towards the Witch Spirit, leaning over and pinching her face, observing the heart-piercing blade pattern carved on the forehead by the Black Heart Conspiracy. "But in my rules, she will atone until the sins are paid and the bloody hands are washed away. The Night Ghost Court is a sin-washing prison for the atoneers, not an Edenic paradise for the innocent."

He let go of the Witch Spirit and let her head drop again.

"But there is a problem in this." He looked at Vulkan, "Do you think there will be a day when she can redeem her sins?"

Vulkan heard his hot blood flowing in his arteries. Although he was still angry, he replied: "Everyone can pay off his debts one day."

"You said this for me, Vulkan. This is why I gave her to you." Coze smiled, not the usual sly sneer, but a peaceful and natural smile. "You have full authority to sentence her to life and death. She will not belong to the Night Ghost King's Court."

"I remember." Vulkan nodded and asked again: "How...how do you know that I know her?"

Curze stretched out his hand to Vulkan, motioning for him to hand over his palm. Then, he grabbed Vulkan's hand, traced the palm lines with his pale fingertips like a divination, and led him further into the depths of the temple.

"Believe it or not, I am a failed visionary." He said, letting go of Vulcan and rubbing his fingers. "I can always see a future where true and false are intertwined. Those are particularly strange stories. Accompany me through my growing up years. I spend every long night with them.”

"Did you see it?" Vulkan chose to believe it. "No wonder you were so skillful when you hit me."

"I think so," Coates said, smiling.

They walked through the cloister and heard the sound of gurgling water. The water flowing deep in the cave circles the stone wall. Where the water flows, the moss is green, and the dark green and light green interweave into a quiet ribbon. On the stone wall, the runes glow brightly, leaving traces of water vapor.

Walking along the trail to the depths, the scenery suddenly opens up, with streams and springs, fish swimming in deep waterfalls, surrounded by stone walls, scattered obelisks, and dense blue branches on the side. There is a layer of velvet fluorescent light on the side, lighting up a secluded place of meditation. Place.

Two bone-white curved arcs separated the left and right, and the light within the framed area was extinguished. The webway gate is temporarily closed.

"This is the place where the World Singers and World Souls sing." Curze introduced, inviting Vulkan to sit down with him on an obsidian boulder. "Reminds me of some dreams. I walked through tombs, walked through tunnels, and saw my descendants in the auditorium listening to my lies."

He shook his head, leaned over, and his clean black hair fell down.

Curze said to Vulkan as he washed his dirty hands in the pond, "I saw you kill an Eldar."

"I will indeed do this... for the empire's expedition, I must destroy a planet that believes in alien races." Vulkan maintained his voice and frowned. "They're going to be the victims. You changed the fate of this planet, brother."

"That's not what it is." Cozz shook his hand and couldn't find a clean cloth to dry it with, so he temporarily put his hand in the air on his lap. "In Haratan, twelve Eldar were worshiped as gods; during the capture, a riot broke out, and in anger, you burned eleven of them to death with a flamethrower."

"There's another one?" Vulcan asked doubtfully.

Curze looked at his wet palms.

"A little Ada girl," he said. "The deflection field saved her life. She put her hands up in surrender, and you burned her anyway."

"A little girl?" Vulkan repeated, speechless. He...can't say he really doesn't care. "Then what?"

"I laughed at you. I said we were all cold-blooded killers." He paused for a moment, listening to the sound of running water, and then continued: "But you are not, Vulkan."

"Do you really think so?" Vulkan was surprised by Coz's comment. "I……"

He was stunned, listening to the sound of water falling drop by drop into the deep pool, and his brows gradually relaxed.

"I will do it." Vulcan said solemnly.

"What?" Cozz asked with interest.

"Keep your conscience," Vulkan declared. It won't be easy, and it might even be stupid, but he will get it done.

Coates didn't answer.

"In my dream, I saw three tombstones. The first one belonged to Nostramo," he said.

"Your home planet?" Vulkan was a little nervous, "What happened to it?"

"Destroyed by a mentally broken madman. I will try my best to ensure that this matter does not exist in the world, but if that madman shows up, you will be the person most likely to take his life. After all... the darkness is never really far away."

"Don't be so sad," Vulcan hugged him, his movements were very gentle and he controlled his strength.

He later found his hands dirty from the fight and hadn't had time to wash them off, but Curze returned the hug with the gentlest acquiescence he could offer.

"The second tombstone belongs to a great angel." Cozi laughed suddenly, "What is the difference between us? It's just that we all died by fate."

Vulkan looked at Coze with concern, and the latter shrugged, "No, nothing. I was just thinking about where my next stop will be."

He thought about it and said: "If... there is still some accuracy in the prophecy... This is the year 843. I can go back to Terra once, and then I can go to a planet."

"Baal's Satellite 2, how does it sound?" Kurtz grinned.

"I don't know where that is, brother. But it sounds good," Vulkan encouraged.

"Change," Coze said, his smile turning pure. "I'm curious to see how this will change."

"Where's the third tombstone?" Mortal Face said. He suddenly appeared in front of the two Primarchs, dressed in coarse cloth and with a comfortable posture.

"A chair." Cozz looked at Faas levelly, "That's a chair."

"How creative. Who owns the chair?" asked Face.

"That's a mortal," Cozz's smile faded, and he saw a larger shadow from Fass.

He felt that his next words would be difficult, and a pressure suppressed the trembling of his vocal cords.

His voice trembled, and as he stared at His face that seemed to shed tears of blood, he finished the prophecy that he did not want to state but had to say: "A father has just killed his son with a stone."

Fasi closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them. He smiled brightly.

"Thank you," He said. "Well, bye Terra."

Note 1: The penalty standard comes from the running group book;

Note 2: Killing an Eldar girl, the incident comes from Chapter 10 of "Vulkan Lives";

Note 3: The prophecy about the Emperor comes from Book 3 of "The End and the Death", Part 10, Section 17.