40k: Midnight Blade.

Chapter 706 87. The last moonlight before dawn

There are always things in this world that will make you bleed inadvertently, and the bleeding will be unhealed. Even after many years, it will still hurt.

Kaiul Sahora raised his hands and placed them on the table, his nails reflecting the candlelight, his body slightly bent, as if he was about to stand up at any time. The table covered with white cloth was still waiting for the protagonist of this dinner, and it was empty.

Kaiul stared at the pure white in a daze, without moving or saying a word, but the surroundings were filled with voices.

The Children of the Night who disliked drinking chose to drink water or slightly sweet fruit juice instead. Others passed the cups around, shaking the silver cups in their hands, and the blood-red wine exuded its fragrance. One story after another was told in such an atmosphere.

The tone of voice varies, but can always be classified as gentle or quiet. The sound waves merge into one, like the tide hitting the cliff at midnight, with ups and downs in the silence.

It was obvious that Kaiul was not used to such occasions.

It can't be called disgust, nor is it difficult to adapt. If I have to describe it, I'm afraid that apart from asking him directly to get the answer, the only other option is to look through the dictionary for several hours. Otherwise, I would create a new word to specifically refer to his current state of mind, and then never mention it again.

"The old problem comes back again?" asked Sheher Lenghun, who was sitting next to him.

The Supreme Grand Master of the Judgment Blade seemed to know some secrets, and his expression at this moment was somewhere between intriguing and wanting to have some fun.

The Shadow Knight looked at him and replied word by word in an unusually blunt manner: "I don't understand what you are talking about."

"Ha, whatever you want, brother." Lenghun raised his hands exaggeratedly to show surrender, and a hypocritical smile replaced his original expression. "It's just."

"Just what?" Kaiul asked coldly, squeezing out the words from between his teeth.

"I just didn't expect that incident to have such a big impact on you." said another person.

Kaiul turned around and saw the Lord of the Scarlet Claw. His face, which was particularly ferocious even among the Night's Children, now looked somewhat calm. Like the others, his right hand, or right claw, was holding a silver cup, and most of the wine in the cup had disappeared.

Skalardrick looked over and locked eyes with him. The blood-drinking beast narrowed his eyes and whispered slowly.

"I won't say some empty nonsense like you should learn to let it go. I will only make suggestions. It's up to you whether to do it or not, but it's not up to you whether to listen or not."

"Now listen carefully, Kaiul Sahora - you can either accept its existence and treat it like a scar, or find an opportunity to sneak into the memory, cut it into pieces, tear the flesh and bones, and eat it bit by bit."

As the beast spoke, it actually laughed happily, with its sharp canine teeth showing from behind its bloodless lips.

He raised his head, drank the wine in the glass in one gulp, slowly stood up, left the table occupied by the chapter leaders, and went to play sword fighting with several veterans of the Night Blade. The whole process was quick and smooth, which made people wonder whether he had planned this for a long time.

The Shadow Knight closed his eyes, grasped his anger by the throat, strangled it lightly, then opened his eyes and cast a glance at the other person at the long table who had not yet spoken.

"It's your turn," he said.

The hunter looked up and gave him a puzzled look.

"It's your turn," Kayul repeated expressionlessly.

The hunter shook his head. "Your wording makes it sound as if I were about to join in your own trial. But no, Keul. I am not in the habit of commenting on the suffering of others."

"Don't you think my performance will ruin the party?"

"That's your business, and I don't believe you will really mess it up. Besides, what kind of thing would you have to do to push this banquet to the point of being 'screwed up'? Kill some people? If you really plan to do this, I suggest you start with the Cold Soul Grand Master next to you."

"Hey!" The nominated Supreme Grand Master of the Blade of Judgment gave the reminder rather unpleasantly.

The hunter ignored him and continued to tell his own story.

"After all, he was the one who started this. You see, he is completely defenseless against you now. I think you only need to move one hand under the table and wait for an opportunity to draw your knife. Or you can simply smash the wine glass in your hand into his eye socket to reduce his vision and gain the upper hand."

The Shadow Knight nodded thoughtfully, turned sideways, glanced at Sheher Coldsoul who had a strange expression on his face, and then actually put his left hand under the table as the hunter said.

The Supreme Grand Master cursed in dialect, made a gang gesture inherited from Yago Sevitarion, and left the table indignantly.

Kaiul watched him go away, disappearing between the armor and the candlelight, closed his eyes, raised his hand and rubbed his brow - but when he put his hand down, the instructor of the Eighth Legion, who had changed into a casual uniform, was standing beside him, even holding a silver plate in his hand.

The whole plate of sand eel meat, which was baked for just the right time and cut into pieces, was sizzling with oil, and the perfectly prepared sauce slowly penetrated along the texture of the meat, bringing another wonderful taste different from the meat aroma.
The instructor reached out and grabbed the silver fork beside the plate, picked up a piece, and put it to Kaiul's mouth. The latter stared at him blankly, with an expression that was difficult to describe.

"You don't want to eat?" the instructor asked, looking a little surprised.

"No, I just—"

Kaiul tried to explain, but the instructor had no intention of listening to what he said next. He just shook his head, put down the silver fork, and placed the plate in front of him.

The hot oil is bubbling and the tender red sand eel meat is stretching itself under the cover of the sauce.

"This is the flavor of Baal, carefully prepared by a military chef of the Blood Angels." The instructor explained with his hands behind his back and a slight smile.

"I suggest you eat it while it's hot, Kaiul. The chef is very busy. He will have to return to the angels' kitchen in an hour at most to prepare ingredients for another round of banquets. If Sevatar hadn't had a lot of connections, I'm afraid we wouldn't have had this chance to enjoy the feast."

Sevatar?
The question had just arisen when it was answered. A dark shadow passed through the corner of Kaiul's eyes, and he chased after it reflexively. He saw Yago Sevitarion, who was dressed in a black uniform, sitting at a corner of the round table, leaning lazily against the back of the chair, chewing non-stop.

The Shadow Knight belatedly looked at the delicious food on the plate, only to discover that the piece of sand eel meat had disappeared along with the fork.

"It's not really connections, instructor, it's just a side effect of living too long - but the meat is delicious. So, eat a piece, Keul, or I'll throw you into the dueling cage and fight that happy vampire all night long."

"I reject."

The Shadow Knight said this in a stern voice, and reached out to catch a silver shadow in the air. He twisted his wrist and thrust the silver fork into a piece of sand eel meat with the same technique as holding a knife. In an instant, the already fragrant aroma was intensified.

He lifted the meat and handed it to the front, and the waiters who were temporarily transferred came in with plates, delivering all kinds of delicacies to the table of the children of the night.
Kaiul began to chew the piece of meat. He seldom ate such real delicious food, so he could not describe his feeling at the moment. He just felt that his tense nerves were relaxed.

He swallowed it, the meat rolled into his stomach, awakening one of the strongest desires in human history. Hunger swept over him, and Kaiul was stunned again, then he lowered his head and began to devour it like a poor man who had not eaten anything for hundreds of years.

At the other end of the dining table, Yago Sevitarion's face smiled in the candlelight.

He stood up silently and gave a threatening look to the hunter who was still sitting properly with his hands on his knees.

Only when the latter raised his knife and fork helplessly to show his obedience did he really leave the table and walk into the darkness with the instructor of the Eighth Legion.

They walked around the banquet hall in the dark to observe the situation in a tacit understanding, and then left this spacious hall with two completely opposite characteristics of quietness and bustle. Its door was closed, and the corridors on both sides were empty, with only a faint light.

Upon learning that the Sons of Night wanted to borrow a piece of land nearby to hold a banquet, the governor of the fortress immediately showed his sincerity. Not only did he provide a secret gathering place, he also completely renovated the decoration here within just two hours, trying to make it more in line with their daily habits.

However, his understanding of the Children of the Night might be a little distorted.

I don't know where he heard the rumor from, but not only did he remove most of the lighting sources and replace them with candles, but even the tableware was made of gold and silver.

And the food, although delicious, was a little too "noble", and the choice of drinks, either red wine or blood wine, which was really loved by the Blood Angels.
Thinking of this, Khalil couldn't help but wonder where his perception came from. Or was it that in the general perception of the Empire, the sons of Konrad Curze were actually just another group of darker space vampires?
"I think so," said Conrad Kurtz.

Wearing moonlight, he emerged from someone's shadow, his figure erratic, and he smiled as soon as he appeared.

But Yago Sevitarion snorted coldly, looked away, folded his arms across his chest, leaned against a marble pillar, and looked up at the skylight above his head.

It was night time, but the fortified stars were still shining as they always were, filling the night sky with a soft glow.

"Oh, Yago." The Night King chuckled softly. "Do you still want to do this?"

"Who's talking?" Sevatar suddenly looked at the instructor suspiciously. "Is it you? Or am I finally going crazy?"

Khalil straightened up, frowned, and shook his head: "I don't know, maybe the wind just happened to blow by."

"Really? Wind?" Sevatar remained skeptical and raised one eyebrow. "Why do I feel like someone is really talking to me?"

The Night King stopped laughing.

He frowned and walked over to him, and Sevatar finally couldn't pretend to be calm anymore.

Although he was still trying hard, the twitching corners of his eyes betrayed him - an assassin who was proficient in all the killing techniques and stealth required was so out of control that one could not help but wonder how much of a shock he was enduring at the moment.

"Yago."

"."

"Yago Sevitarion."

"."

Seeing that he had made up his mind to ignore it, Conrad Kurtz suddenly smiled sinisterly.

"Well, Yago, do you know? Before the banquet began, my brother Rog Dorn sent a message to your instructor. He wanted to make this banquet another formal exchange between the two legions after many years. And your instructor has not responded yet. Do you want to know the reason?"

Sevatar raised his hand and tapped his temple, taking a deep breath.

Conrad Kurtz whispered the truth: "Because Sigismund has been awakened - hasn't he, Caryl?"

"I wanted to discuss it with you, Yago, but he didn't agree." Khalil spread his hands and said very sincerely.

"Of course you want to discuss this with him, father. After all, if our Yago is really annoyed, he will definitely cause trouble for you in the next period of time. But it's different for me."

The smile on Curze's face became more and more prosperous, and Sevatar was opposite him. At this time, the face of the eldest son of the night had reached the limit of uncertainty.
If he was not really no longer a human being, the blood flow would have turned his pale face red long ago.

But he managed to get through it.

The First Son of the Night coughed lightly, and his expression suddenly changed. He raised his muscles, and used his facial features to exert the essence he had learned from every disguise over the past ten thousand years. With a true feeling that could not be called acting at all and a roar that resounded throughout the corridor, he shouted a sentence that made the Primarch and instructors of the Eighth Legion change color.

"Oh, the Emperor!" Yago Sevitarion smiled sadly and shouted with all his strength. "Is it you? Primarch? It must be you. This must be the Emperor's spirit that has possessed you in the instructor's body!"

Behind the heavy door, the wave of silence in the banquet hall suddenly stopped, and the smile on Conrad Coates's face disappeared.

He gritted his teeth and made a series of gang gestures to his son, who accepted them all and even returned them double, completely ignoring the increasingly strange expression on the face of the other man standing nearby.

Or maybe he noticed it, but he was too lazy to care.
All right, father. Yago Sevitarion, the street kid from Nostramo Dines, smiled fiercely with the same gritted teeth. Let's see who is the winner.

A few seconds later, the doors were knocked open from the inside. A second before the two heavy doors were knocked aside and countless ghosts rushed out, Conrad Coates suddenly stopped.

He smiled gently.

"Well done," he said. "Remember, I'm proud of you, Jago."

The moonlight faded, and Caryl Rohals, stiff as a body, closed his eyes helplessly and sighed.
When he opened his eyes again, his figure began to grow taller.

(End of this chapter)