Chapter 285 Act 2

"Oh, Minotaur, how did you become what you are now? You were supposed to be a character as smooth as the moon, but what I saw was a demon like a dead soul! The sharp claws on your left hand are shining purple. Is the electric blade the 'contract' I gave you? Is the cold, gleaming long claw on your right hand the 'veritas' you seek?"

"Eh? What do you mean, my friend Hercules? You think that I fell into the darkness, wasted my life, gnawed on the flesh and blood of living creatures, and contaminating these sharp weapons was equivalent to harm. Has it ruined your reputation and ruined your glory?"

Hercules, played by Perturabo, grasped the bright heavy hammer tightly, allowing the iron product, which was temporarily made to look like a hammer and covered with luminous paint, to suddenly break under the radiance of the midday sun. Turn off the dark fog lingering on the stage.

Opposite him, the body of the monster played by Conrad Coates was half-bowed, and the wings on his back were closely close to each other and folded up warily. Two giant monsters made of silver-white material like Hades bone, with blue electric light appearing from time to time. The claws were connected to the ends of the arm armor, taking the place of the pale hands.

When the light came on, the bat-winged man immediately blocked his face with his left hand and stepped back, becoming a living ghost who was afraid of the skylight.

The warrior stepped forward, step by step, his voice full of doubts: "I don't want to hear what you said, because I am using a completely frank spirit to express my painful doubts to you, but you can't even I can't get a true response. I have to prove that you are already a bat that cannot be tamed, a monster imprisoned by the labyrinth. Am I going to let you trample on your destiny and let you control so many things? Innocent lives?"

The ghost chuckled, and with his laughter, black mist surged onto the stage again.

"I like these sharp claws very much. I want to keep them forever, so I keep them with me at all times. Whenever a person is lost in this maze, he will speak to our contract and the truth, just like the thoughts in the blood. The poison is gurgling in the veins of your body, and you feel the same way, as if the fire of sulfur is burning in the soles of your feet, forcing you to sink into this abyss all the time! Look, you also talk about innocence! life, my old friend!”

"I have seen the crimes you committed with my own eyes, so what's the use of talking about your past hobbies? It's not that you know nothing about it, and it's not that I haven't understood it, I just mentioned your past justice. , can it satisfy your undoubted and real blood debt? All kinds of appalling sins have been gathered on your single body, and the throne also weeps for you!"

"If you want to fight with me, I can only offer my martial arts. You can use your holy hammer of the mantra given by the righteous, but I can only use my claws, knives, ropes, poisonous blood and psychedelic magic." Water, let the dark revenge rise up from my dark cave, and take my life now to bring justice to me in the past. "

An empty lament came from the black mist, and it was hard to tell who came from it.

The next moment, the sword glowed in the mist. The silver blade and the glowing outline of the warhammer collided with the swords and the roars of the beasts. They clashed in the increasingly dense darkness. Only the warriors around him could see the sword. , there is still a bright shadow like eternal sunlight.

"My Lord did not show his complete power..."

Under the stage, several people who also had a seat in the front row of the theater, but whose seats were in the deep shadows without exception, and who were wearing black cloaks and with skulls and bloody bat wings embroidered on their chests, were paying close attention. While enjoying the performance on the stage, they chatted about their own topics privately in Gothic with a unique tone.

Their volume is undoubtedly enough to escape the ears of any mortal, especially in a theater that accommodates more than 10,000 people. Even if people are just breathing ordinary breaths at a regular volume, all kinds of trivial noises are enough to cover up the sounds hidden in the shadows. dialogue in.

It is worth mentioning that even though this play is not as grand as the opening ceremony and cannot be missed, given that Perturabo, the Lord of Olympia, personally played one of the two main roles, the theater at this time was even more packed, and the high-altitude The use of thousands of floating Lokos Palace official and private unofficial drones is further proof that this feast is being broadcast simultaneously in countless corners of the entire planet.

It is not difficult to imagine that during the space voyage in the next few months, today's video tape will be transmitted to the locations of hundreds of planets along with the routes of merchant ships, and will be further spread in the next countless years.

But words that are difficult for mortals to hear clearly are another matter for those Astartes whose seats are allocated near corners and whose senses are particularly sensitive. Objectively speaking, this is the reason why Curze's auxiliary army still cautiously uses Gothic instead of Eldar to communicate - on planet 154-4, there are indeed a small number of Astartes who know that Kang Rader Curze is associated with the Eldar, but this information is still not suitable for large-scale dissemination.

Therefore, Iskandar Khayon, the warrior of the Thousand Dust Sun, who is in the same place with the Iron Warriors as a communication staff, is very sure that there is a group of... mortal assistants under Konrad Curze who seem to be too tall. The army is using words to express unconditional praise for his direct superiors, as well as doubts about the organizer of this sports meeting and the leader of the legion to which he currently belongs temporarily, Perturabo.

Khayon himself had no intention of interrupting the discussions of these mortals; he viewed them as an object of appreciation and a way to see the different primarchs from another perspective, and gradually became accustomed to their unique accents.

He watched the battle between the original bodies. Even if they restrained their strength and speed in order to face the masses and left room for each other, the fighting consciousness and skills were still worth admiring.

Khayon held the hatchet he carried with him. This weapon came from Fenris and was carried by his comrades from that unique army after completing their exchange career with the Fenris Wolves. Wilder, in Fenrisian terms, is destiny, a word characteristic of rune priests.

He asked his fellow Iron Warriors to inject molten iron into the ax handle and infuse his own etheric energy into the molten iron to gain better control over the weapon.

Next, the event prepared by Olympia for all visitors is a wrestling competition.

Mortals will undoubtedly be excited to see friendly competitions between warriors from various planets, and they will be curious and even yearn for warriors with different styles born in the civilized environments of different planets. Not enough, far from it, for the Astartes.

The Lord of Iron, who has always been thoughtful, has of course taken this into consideration. Each legion has been informed that they will have the opportunity to visit the core area of ​​the Cheorwon in a place named "Na" that has been personally verified by the Lord of the Seventh Legion. In the battlefield of "Erni's Court", have a heart-warming battle of fighting skills.

Considering that there are only a few Suns of Thousand Dusts in Olympia, and he does not feel that among his companions there are people who are better at close combat, the moment Khayon got the news, he realized that he might have to do it for the gene. In honor of his father, he goes into battle: after all, he still has an ax for close combat. What does this seem to mean?

"You are a little too loud, mortal friends." Telemanon said, his voice as beautiful as ever, and after lowering his voice now, his words became a low string string, secretly related to A local orchestra accompanied the performance of the two Primarchs on stage.

In addition, his eyes still shine with the iconic bright blue light, creating an unquestionable beauty in the light and shadow of the open air. Of course, Telemanon Lylas was an Emperor's Son.

Iskandar Khayon hoped that if the Astartes did fight each other, he would face no opponent of a level higher than the twin swords of Telemanon. He didn't think he could survive more than a few rounds under Sigismund or Akulduna.

"Does it make you feel noisy, respected Lord Astartes?" said a female warrior. Her use of honorifics was so sparse that it gave her soft tone a sharp edge, which was harmonious. When her master fought with Perturabo, the clear sound of the clash of weapons approached. "We'll keep it appropriately quiet."

She tilted her head slightly. The skin under the black hood was dark and translucent, like clear sapphire. The blood vessels showed an extra deep purple on the edge of her cheeks, and then penetrated deep into the shadow of the hood against her bones.

A sense of alienation gathered on this thin face, and Kayon could not forget it. He realized that her lips were a distinctive bluish-gray color.

"Who are you?" Khayon asked, and when he saw Telemanon glance at him, his face suddenly felt hot. The scholar ignored it and continued to look at the female warrior's upwardly curved eyes. "I see there are some bulges on your back. Are the combat wings developed by the Eighth Legion for mortals?"

The pair of wings hidden under the black cloak trembled, and Khayon felt a desire to explore. This may be a common problem among scholars - he wanted to know how the Eighth Legion equipped the mortal army with some unique neural connections. Additional limbs.

"Yes." The female warrior said uneasily and warily, seeming to regret taking the Space Marine's words.

"Can I know your name?"

The female warrior's expression suddenly turned cold. Kayon didn't understand why he got such a response.

First of all, few mortals would have such an attitude towards the Astartes. He had heard that the warriors of the Luna Wolves were once described by mortals in private as having a "strong smell", but when face to face, such a way of coping The first time he met.

Secondly, she's not a Custodian, right? They are the type of warriors whose name is impossible to name.

"Nefertari," the female warrior said, "Masters Astartes, I think our voices were a little noisy, and I regret that."

"I understand, let's keep quiet." Telemanon smiled and glanced at Khayon. Khayon stared back.

——

The smell of disinfectant spreads in the laboratory, overpowering the smell of blood and metal.

No experiments are being conducted at this time, so the lights in the room are maintained at a normal brightness. Scissors, bone saws, syringes, and some surgical instruments that Fabius Bayer was not familiar with before, he also gained more understanding during this time.

He put away the tools on the table, "You did not go to the surface of Olympia, Hexakeris."

"You haven't gone either, Son of the Emperor." The old Haemonculus said. Fabius could sense that this researcher shared his passion for flesh and blood, as well as his tireless desire for genetic exploration. Under this premise, Hexakeris's vigilance seems particularly difficult to explain.

He and Hexakeris were supposed to be on the same path - and if the latter adhered to the principle of mutual exclusion of like, how could he choose a master who would be sincerely loyal to him?

This troubled Fabius. It's not because of the other party's attitude, but because of this attitude's hindrance to the two's collaborative exploration.

In that time, they would have developed enough mutual trust that Fabius could show him a suspect gene tube, in order to delve deeper into the origins of the Emperor's Children Blight.

Yes, even if the Legion's Blight had been suppressed since Fulgrim's return, and even before the Primarch's return, it had never been truly solved in the warriors of Terra.

Fabius knew that the disease was merely locked away within their genetic helix by a unique, psychic-like power. It had saved many of the III Legion, but it had cost some their lives.

It lay dormant, perhaps until the end of eternity, or perhaps tomorrow. There was a corruption that lurked within the skin, the black carapace, the sternum of the glorious Emperor's Children.

It was far from perfect. Fabius Bile did not believe that Fulgrim did not wish to eliminate this hidden danger once and for all. This, the Apothecary believed, was why his research always met with the Primarch's approval.

Fabius had not forgotten the look that Lycaon, his friend, gave him when he told him that he was at risk of disease. There was an amazing contempt there.

Fabius was not hurt, but he moved Lycaon to the operating table in exchange for a mixture of restorative enzymes and protein distillation.

This was the elixir that he had asked his comrades for in order to prolong his life. Because his road was longer. In the words of the Primarch, it was closer to perfection.

"At least I participated in the opening ceremony attended by my Primarch," Fabius said.

"Not every 'mortal' is qualified to admire the glory of my Lord," said Hexacereus, "I am already far from mortal."

The old Blood Orc summoned a 'mortal' attendant in a black robe and an iron helmet, and asked him to fetch the visceral extracts they needed for their next work.

Fabius knew very well that this attendant would tell the Night Demon Blood Lord, who was wary of him, everything that happened in the laboratory today.

In any case, he had never conducted experiments beyond the bottom line, and this surveillance would not have a negative impact.

"Bring solution number three," Fabius ordered his own attendant.

The purple lenses of the machine acting as eyes reflected the light. Its armor was very worn, and the lightning pattern was worn. Its face and neck were covered with stitches. This obscured its original appearance.

The attendant saluted and hit the left side of the heart with his right fist.

"Thank you, Lycaon," Fabius added politely.