Emperor's Bane

Chapter 266 Curz: She Hasn't Hit Me For Three Chapters
"..."

"Quiet, too quiet."

"There is no crying, no death, only the silence that makes people so disgusted."

"..."

"I do not like this."

"This battleship has been quiet for too long, so long that they seem to have fallen into a false comfort, thinking that they are just a pile of pure cotton tablecloths that have nothing to do with blood, and they just need to wait for those big hands to pick them up and let them rub pinch."

"They were even laughing."

"Laughing so happily, so naturally, so stupidly, they are really too relaxed, and my blood relative who has survived in the world really spoiled them too delicately."

"It's like she has indulged herself too much and lost her instinct and cruelty as a predator: at this moment, the freedom I have is the best example to support this point of view. Knowing the strength and instability I have, she still removed even the most perfunctory defenses and gave me strength and minions."

"This is either a poor trap, or a ridiculous self-confidence, or a wrong stinky move out of the so-called blood relationship: no matter what the result is, this is wrong, and it needs to be corrected and revised."

"It's not right, it's stupid."

"That needs to be corrected."

"But before that, this battleship was filled with nothing more than her sons and servants. They were like mindless insects gnawing at the leftovers she gave, and praising any of her decisions. It has not played the role of warning and supervision at all.”

"But it's okay, because now, here I am, Midnight Ghost."

"I'm here for her, for them."

"I'm thinking it's time for her, and for them, to get a little more serious."

"They need fear."

"And fear, sometimes you don't need real bloodshed."

------

Sometimes Conrad even misses Nostramo: for its stink and guilt, for its madness and obscurity, for that midnight ghost that evokes terror and murder at every trial.

Obviously it was only a few months ago, but when he thought about it again, Conrad felt that he had been several years away from that moment, so long that he felt that his claws were gradually becoming rusty and clumsy.

How long had it been since he tried and terrorized those depraved crimes, months?Or how many years?Even the simplest calculation of time seemed difficult in the absence of this vocation, which made him involuntarily upset.

After wandering around the corners and passages of the battleship like a real lonely soul for a long time, even the Night King had to reluctantly admit that the void that surrendered at the feet of his carrion blood relative The country indeed possesses stability and justice far better than his Nostramo. He has never seen any bloody crimes. Those original sinners on this battleship have hidden their sinister intentions very well , can almost fool his sense of smell.

Although Midnight Ghost has also found a lot of sin carriers, their sins are either small enough to require the most careful screening, or they are lurking in the future that has not yet arrived, so they cannot be regarded as speechless evidence.

For example, he saw that the mortal officer in charge of repairing the deck of the engine room would become a traitor in a tragic gang-jumping battle in the future. The door that must pass through, put the invading aliens into the core area of ​​​​the battleship.

Of course, he also saw another illusory future: this nameless mortal would become a hero, he would be seriously wounded in a desperate resistance in the same battle, but he would close the door with his own hands and carry a The bomb enough to kill him and the intruder, whispering the names of his family members, waited quietly for the intruder's footsteps to approach.

Two diametrically opposed outcomes appeared in his mind at almost the same moment, but the Night Ghost was used to it: he knew that the prophecy was a bad friend who always offered two glasses of the same poisoned wine and Pretending that one of the cups contains the antidote it accidentally put in, to trick him into the pain of hesitating.

For such a situation, Conrad has already had a solution. He knows that his sharp blade is the only answer to this multiple-choice question: as long as he knocks over the stone table, then naturally he doesn't have to worry about which cup of poison to drink. troubled by alcohol.

In the same way, as long as he removes that mortal's head, then that mortal will naturally have no possibility of betrayal and sin in the future: how can a person who died in the past continue to hurt this world?
If it was before, Midnight Ghost would have done this long ago, but not now, now he must restrain the impulse in his heart, so that these petty crimes can continue to go unpunished under his nose.

There is no other reason: even if he is as arrogant as Midnight Ghost, he knows very well that if he carves his blood relative's private property into a Turkish barbecue or a statue of Picasso again, then what awaits him will definitely not be the same as last time [Gentle Care] Now, the Night King isn't one of those idiots out there, he knows better than anyone in the galaxy what kind of monster his blood kin is.

Sometimes, he even doubted: whether the resurrection of the Lord of the Second Legion was the work of their common father of genes, maybe some plans of the Lord of Humanity required the use of a person who could make the whole The seed of original sin of the galaxy burning?So, he brought this lonely soul who should have died long ago back to the ignorant and ignorant real world?
Conrad wasn't sure if the idea was plausible enough, but an innate predator instinct told him not to easily provoke this silver-haired beast, who was far more powerful than he'd seen. more terrible.

And this is also an important reason why Conrad chose to temporarily spare the countless criminals on this battleship: but he has already remembered their smell, and none of these people can escape.

Just give him the chance...

"Boom boom boom!"

"..."

The rude sound of steel colliding mercilessly interrupted Midnight Ghost's contemplation. The pair of dark eyes hidden in the hood lifted up and looked towards the door that made the sound: it was also the only connection between his room and the outside world.

Conrad slowly got up from the corner of the room where he lived, and walked to the door. After opening the heavy steel door, he saw an acquaintance for the first time.

"Your lunch, Mr. Conrad."

The pink-haired maid of the Lord of the Second Legion pushed her No. [-] dining car and stood in front of Midnight Ghost. Her somewhat tall twin ponytails could barely reach Conrad's waist, but this did not prevent her from using a With pupils and tone so indifferent that it was almost glacier, he looked at and communicated with the fierce and famous King of the Night.

Midnight Ghost knew that this tiny, mortal-like strange creation in front of him was by no means a normal living body, because he could not feel the slightest fear and awe from her, and her logic was more like a way of seeking profit. Harm avoidance is the only core mechanism.

Therefore, he didn't bother to say anything to her.

Conrad grabbed the dining car, and his eyes casually glanced at the heavily armed Dawnbreaker guards not far away, as well as the door that sealed the terrible power: the room of Midnight Ghost and the private lounge of the Spider Queen are almost close together. Next to each other, the distance in a straight line does not exceed ten meters, and his three meals a day also come from the country that belongs to his blood relatives.

Conrad glanced casually at the two guards guarding the door, which caused him to attract countless open and secret hostility in an instant. He turned a blind eye to this, and even showed a sneering smile in his heart: These fools did not know what kind of place they were guarding, and they certainly did not even suspect anything like it, for in their pathetic thoughts it was undoubtedly blasphemy.

But Midnight Haunting is much smarter and bolder than them.

The joy brought by contempt made Conrad hum an unknown song, and dragged his lunch back to the room. He sat on the bed, ignored the neat fork, casually grabbed the hot food, and threw it away. into the mouth.

The food is indeed delicious, and exudes the care visible to the naked eye, but Midnight Ghost is always absent-minded about it. He hates the possibility that he may not be able to eat rancid food because he is used to eating these delicate things.

While eating, Conrad was thinking about his plan that he had been planning for a month: After getting tired of seeing those guilty people roaming around in front of him, Midnight Ghost gradually got used to locking himself in the room, Instead of sneaking around every corner of the battleship, it was during this process that a hidden desire in his heart was gradually dug out.

During the long wandering, the majesty and magnificence of this void kingdom, or the darkness and coldness, have long been seen by the midnight ghosts, and for the so-called [Secret Vault Area] heavily guarded by the dawn breakers, night The king didn't even bother to explore the mystery of destruction in it. Besides, there was only one place on this battleship, which was in the blind spot of his vision.

That was the private domain of his blood relative, that was Morgan's country.

Through the blueprints of the Queen of Glory class warship that he inadvertently spied, and his continuous exploration and investigation during this period of time, Midnight Ghost has been able to imagine what kind of private domain the Lord of the Second Legion has. No one, not even her most trusted heir, can step into the hidden country in the mist.

So what was she hiding in there?So magnificent that it needs such a huge territory to accommodate, so important that it needs to be protected by such strict standards: could it be her real secret, the truth that she can walk the galaxy again, or her indifference In the skin, where is the essence of viciousness?
……

Conrad smiled.

Really think about it, it makes people look forward to it.

He should go in and have a look, shouldn't he?
When such an idea first popped into his mind, it lingered, and even suppressed the inner dissatisfaction of Midnight Ghost, making his thoughts fully devoted to how to make this fantasy a reality. .

The Night King became silent because of this, he no longer wandered aimlessly, but spent a lot of time planning, so his footsteps became purposeful, always staying in the places he would use near the location.

Thanks to the connivance of his blood relatives, the Dawnbreakers did not pay more attention to and stop him from appearing and disappearing. They regarded his identity as a Primarch as a natural symbol of credibility, which made Midnight Ghost even more determined. , a small warning to these lazy slacks.

This goal does not conflict with his desire to explore, and the two goals can be pursued simultaneously.

Conrad worked hard for this. He carved a distorted map of the Queen of Glory on the wall with the sharp claws bestowed by Morgan, and calculated the gaps between the patrols over and over again. He overturned countless plans , avoiding countless traps, and racking his brains to think of ways to escape the terrifying net of psionic energy.

All of this took the Primarch a few days, and when he came to this ugly work with his lunch again, Midnight Ghost had already made up his mind, he knew that it was time to start his plan Yes, because the best time is coming soon.

So, the first step is to...

Conrad grinned, and he glanced around the room casually: the wide area and complete facilities showed that enough attention was paid to the Primarch, but on the other hand, this room has no windows, and there is no second door. The door, the only ventilation duct is just a narrow path cut from the main duct, so narrow that even a dwarf cannot pass through it.

This is a cage, a house arrest cage worthy of a Primarch. Although Morgan never strongly asked him to stay here, her meaning is already very obvious: don't make small moves in this room.

But unfortunately, the spider queen's cage is not a perfect building. After patiently probing, Midnight Ghost has already confirmed that the main ventilation duct that can accommodate his body is actually far away from the wall he is facing at this time. , not far.

The only thing he has to do now is to get there without disturbing the guards, so that he can put on a wonderful show for his blood relatives when they all think he is still squatting at home honestly.

As for the method of breaking through these metal walls silently...

Midnight Specter raised his head and poured his own lunch into his mouth in one gulp. The exquisite food that took the Spider Queen's long and thoughtful mind was swallowed whole by him, and hastily squeezed into his stomach.

He waited quietly, until he realized that his stomach acid had been completely mixed with these foods, then he raised his fist, aimed at his abdomen, and vomited fiercely.

The next moment, large streams of residue mixed with gastric acid flowed out of Midnight Ghost's mouth. He caught them and slowly smeared them on the wall. In the meantime, there was only a sizzle that was so low that it was almost impossible to detect in the room.

Midnight Ghost laughed.

The plan has begun.

------

When the No. 20 three expeditionary fleet arrived at the Helledin galaxy to the southwest of the Far East star field, they finally met the Ultramarine Corps who were here for a short rest.

The holographic projection of the Lord of Ultramar appeared in front of the Spider Queen 15 minutes later: Compared with the time on Macragge, Guilliman at this time was more serious and silent, and his armor was also It is not spotless, but has a few traces of dust from the war.

"Thank you for coming, Morgan. You can respond to my invitation so quickly, which is really beyond my expectations. I thought I would need to fight alone for a while."

As always, the smile of the Lord of the Ultramarines is unrecognizable. In Morgan's memory, the smile on Guilliman's face is one of the few things that can be compared to her false mask, but the difference is that he His smile is more majestic on the surface, but also a lot more sincere in essence.

[After all, your army is so powerful and magnificent, my Guilliman, I am deeply afraid that if I come later, what will greet me will only be a pile of alien ashes. 】

Morgan was on the throne, and the simple flattery in her words made Guilliman a little embarrassed. The Lord of Ultramar took care of his somewhat messy blond hair, as if he felt a little guilty for failing to live up to the expectations of his blood relatives.

"I'm afraid I've let you down, my sisters of Avalon: My fleet still hasn't found any traces of those psychic aliens. Scattered clues were found around Tante."

[Don't worry, Guilliman, no matter how fast a race migrates, it is definitely not as good as our two fleets going all out. From now on, the think tank troops under my command will also join the search ranks. Alien races have unique research. 】

Guilliman smiled.

"Speaking of think tanks, I think I'd like to congratulate you, Morgan: Not long ago, our brother Donne was in a conversation with me, discussing your training manual on the basics of think tanks, which he has read himself took it, and gave it a very high rating.”

[Dawn's high evaluation?This is truly a rare treasure. 】

"Indeed, it is said that the Seventh Legion is using your manual as a general standard to experimentally train the think tank in the Imperial Fist. Dorn believes that your manual contains a lot of valuable rational speech and practical cases, which makes its Much more valuable than the rest of the psionic books."

"He also mentioned one point: It is said that Fulgrim has distributed your manual to other brothers, especially Horus, and after reading it, Horus recommended it to more people , I also heard that Jaghatai Khan and Leman Russ even took the initiative to ask Horus for a copy."

"Congratulations, Morgan, you actually took the initiative to let Leman Russ and psionics intersect. This is much more difficult than laying down a star sector, or destroying a kind of alien. It's like planting seeds on the head of a stone. A flower."

A faint smile crept up the corner of the Spider Queen's mouth, she felt a kind of calm pride because of Guilliman's words, and even recalled an interesting little thing because of it.

Not long ago, a Dark Angel veteran who was doing exchange work on the flagship of the Second Legion specially met Morgan. The Spider Queen had an impression of him because they had fought side by side in the Randan War.

The Dark Angel's words were somewhat vague and evasive, but the Gene Queen calmly heard the overtones between his words: Simply put, a certain Lion of Caliban bypassed Luthor, and through the words of an heir posed a question.

Why didn't he have such a book?
This trivial matter came to an end in front of the master of the Second Legion's silence and a psionic manual written by himself. The Spider Queen also combined her in-depth exploration of psionics during this period of time based on her memory of Ran Dan, to provide The Dark Angels compensated by compiling a booklet on how to fight Randan psykers.

[So, are you using the book I wrote, Guilliman? 】

"Of course...however, I made some small modifications to make its content more appropriate to the actual situation of Ultramar and the Ultramarines. Organization, I have canceled it in actual use, because such an organization is likely to cause a gap between the think tank troops and the main force of the legion, which is not conducive to internal unity."

"Like those cast sergeants."

Morgan's brows furrowed imperceptibly: that was one of the most proud and innovative parts of her in the whole book, and when she looked at Guilliman's unconscious smile again, she couldn't help but flash across her heart. There was a trace of uncontrollable dissatisfaction and indignation.

[Well, my blood relatives, maybe only time will tell whether your modifications are of real value, but for now, let's turn our attention back to the galaxy, after all we still have a race to exterminate. 】

Guilliman nodded, he didn't notice the weak edge in the words of the Lord of the Second Legion: Before that, the edge of the words he experienced was much more obvious than this.

The Master of Ultramarines pressed the mechanical keypad next to him, and a detailed star map appeared next to his projection. Guilliman briefly introduced his progress, laying the groundwork for their detailed interview later.

"We are now near the dividing line between the Far East Starfield and the Storm Starfield, but this dividing line is relatively vague, and it is only a rough division of the Terra Council, and most of the worlds here have not surrendered to the human empire. ruled, retaining their individual independence and barbaric customs."

"The galaxy we are in now is called the Helletings, and it is connected to the Endraga galaxy in the southwest through the Mandeville point: there is the home port of the Imperial Navy in this area, and if we continue to the southwest, we will It is a world where the knight family who surrendered to the empire and has certain independent rights lives: Jedasla."

"When we get to Jedasla, we are only one star sector away from the Starfield of Storms, but the worlds outside Jedasula are all wild wilderness, they lack sufficient value and importance, so the empire has no Recover them immediately: neither will we, after all, this place is far away from your and my management, and we have more important things."

[Is there any unified name for these unrecovered... wild worlds? 】

"The locals will call them the Gladiator Stars, because this generation has passed down a savage and hopelessly gladiator culture, and even the technology on the planet has been tilted because of this, and the rulers of almost every world are slave owners , They rely on bloody performances to curry favor with the bottom masses and maintain their rule."

"The most famous of these worlds is Nukaidia, where the gladiator culture is deeply rooted, and they also have a strong military force, which cannot be underestimated."

【…】

Morgan was silent, her pale eyelids cloaking the perplexed instincts in her pupils.

For some reason, when she heard the name of this world, her mind was swept by a strange wave, as if the instinct deep in her heart was telling her: that barbaric world might have something to do with her. important connection?

【Have you ever been to that world, my Guilliman? 】

The Lord of Ultramar blinked in astonishment, then shook his head.

"No, I once sent envoys to persuade the rulers there to submit to the empire. Although they were unwilling, they did not show extreme behavior, and the value there was not worth my sending military forces there."

"is there a problem?"

【It’s nothing, I’m just thinking wildly... Speaking of which, did your envoy report to you that there might be some... unusual characters in that world? 】

"Are you worried that one of our blood relatives will fall out there?"

Guilliman instantly understood what the Spider Queen was thinking, a comforting smile appeared on his face, and then he shook his head again, his blond hair fluttering along.

"Don't worry, Morgan, each of my missions will pay attention to the young talents in the world when they are on the mission, and their vision and judgment are worthy of recognition: they reported to me that this man named The world of Nucadia is nothing special, except perhaps the only news that a gladiator named Onomamos is in his prime, and the world is in a bloody frenzy over his winning streak. "

【…】

[That may be because I was worrying too much. 】

Morgan blinked her eyes to get rid of the chaotic thoughts in her mind, but she still remembered this savage world called Nuketia, and put its name among those second-rate words that needed to be cared about.

[Okay, Guilliman, my calmest brother, let's talk about something else. 】

[For example, our next assignment of military tasks, and their respective routes. 】

------

The time has come, and it is now.

The sharp claws of the Midnight Ghost scratched the piercing sound in the wide and old ventilation duct, but disappeared in the eternal noise that was no different from the wind in the next second: As the ventilation system of the entire Queen of Glory class battleship, the main duct Its interior is often filled with unbearable noise, and even the Astartes cannot stay nearby for a long time.

But now, Noisy is the ally of Midnight Ghost, a firm pillar to help him complete the plan in his head. The Night King of Nostramo hangs himself on the smooth iron wall The huge body, using its own head against the strong wind, crawled towards his destination bit by bit.

Waves of prophecy kept churning through his mind, reminding him how long it would be before the plan leaked: his two too-comfortable blood relatives were already discussing some details of the specific meeting, and when they concluded When all this happened, the Lord of the Second Legion would get up and look for him, and he would find the second door corroded in his room.

He doesn't have much time: but fortunately, his other blood relative, the Lord of Ultramar whom he has not met yet, is a person who will care about the details, and he will let Morgan in more questions and answers and Spend a rare moment in chores, facilitated by Midnight Haunting.

Thinking of this, the King of Nostramo couldn't help speeding up his pace. The conversation he couldn't see urged him to move, allowing him to reach his destination faster than he imagined: the torpedo lined with countless torpedoes. control room.

There are two or three Dawnbreakers on guard in the control room. This is a huge room overlooking the deck, and although its garrison can be said to be engrossed, their number cannot block a Primarch.

Midnight Ghost knew that there was supposed to be another person here, but he went out temporarily and would come back later: this is also the reason why he chose to attack at this time, everything is the best he got in the long observation and deduction good result.

Conrad stunned them instead of simply killing them: he rarely stunned anyone, which made his methods even a little rusty and ridiculous, but in the face of the brute force of the Primarch, several Dawnbreaker was forced into a dream of unknown length before any warning was given.

Thus, Midnight Ghost got what he wanted: a data board capable of accurately launching dozens of jumping fish to the [Macragge's Glory] at any time. Although he did not know the password of the command, but He has another way.

Stretching out the long tongue that the Master of the Second Legion spent an entire hour washing to pink, Midnight Ghost slowly licked the screen of the entire data pad. The data pad once dotted with the saliva of the Spider Queen is now Full of the disgusting residue from the mouth of the Night King: Curze destroyed the oral hygiene efforts that the Lord of the Second Legion had exhausted in just a few days.

He and all his blood relatives have inherited the same genetic source, so one brother's genetic sample is no different from another's.

The datapad beeped.

Accept the genetic code.

Authorization to launch torpedoes.

Midnight Ghost laughed. He felt that the person who had gone out was returning rapidly along with the abnormal noise in the room, so he returned to the ventilation duct and retrieved the goods that had been there for several days.

Now, he is about to start the final step of the whole plan.

He had already begun to look forward to the expressions on the faces of his blood relatives.

In the battleship, the sudden alarm bell rang.

Inside the room, lurking shadows unfolded.

(End of this chapter)