40k: Midnight Blade.

Chapter 710 3. An impartial attitude is very important

Is he joking? Kius asked himself, but he couldn't convince himself. He didn't believe that anyone in the world would joke about these two things in front of an Emperor's child, unless the Grand Inquisitor was actually just a liar.
But this is even more impossible. Who would dare to pretend to be an inquisitor? I'm afraid even the craziest underhive gang wouldn't dare to do such a thing, let alone -

Kius took a quick look at the golden-armored giant in the corner of the room, and then extinguished all these inappropriate and ridiculous speculations in his mind.

For a moment, he didn't know what to say. The meeting room was silent. The silence was like a thick fog, and the judge suddenly showed an expression as if he had suddenly realized something.

"Ah, I see. You don't believe me, do you?"

"."

Kius was speechless. He wanted to answer, but couldn't utter a single word. At this moment, he even had the urge to laugh - of course, he couldn't laugh at all. Instead, Ramitz, who was sitting on his right, hesitated and spoke.

"No, sir, this is not a question of belief or not."

"What is that?" The judge looked at him with a smile on his face.

The more Kius looked at it, the weirder it seemed to him, because that smile shouldn't be on someone like him, and it shouldn't be on this occasion either.

Ramitz was obviously a little stunned by this. He had only been in the army for six years and had not yet won any honor in the legion that would be recognized. Even patrolling was just his first time.

The corporal thought of this, sighed inwardly, and decided to speak up to help him out - but Ramitz's response was even quicker than his.

"Well, sir, please forgive me for being frank, but your words do sound a little unbelievable."

" Ramitz! " Kius shouted, trying to stop him from going on.

The Inquisitor raised his hand and said nothing. He did not look unhappy about it. But an unknown force forced Kius to stop. Then, he spoke slowly, his voice soft and serious.

"It's all right, Corporal, please let him continue. Imperials nowadays always like to play charades with each other, and there are not many honest people like this battle brother. Honesty is a virtue, and I think we should encourage him to make the moral vacuum a little smaller. What do you think?"

Once again, Chius was speechless.

"Thank you," Ramitz said sincerely. "I still stand by my point. After all, you don't look like you've been transformed in any way."

"As far as I know, the most effective life-extending surgeries in the empire all require some changes to one's appearance, which you don't have. Based on this, your age cannot exceed two centuries at most."

"No Inquisitor has visited Chemos in the past two centuries, and our Chapter Master has not left the perimeter of the sector for nine centuries. You said you knew him, did you know him nine centuries ago?"

Kius took a deep breath, his brain racing.

In the past, he only used his brain cells in this way during weekly tactical trials, which was one of the important reasons why he was able to obtain the position of patrol leader with a relatively short service period.

However, this time, no matter the high intelligence level granted by the transformation surgery, or the knowledge reserves filled by thinking training and various books, none of these things came in handy.

He stood there in a daze, staring at Ramitz's profile in silence.

And the judge said, "Yes."

Kius leaned back in his chair, his eyes downward, staring at the tabletop.

"But how is that possible?" Ramez asked sincerely, frowning and looking confused. "Your age doesn't match."

"Is it not possible that I am lying?" the Inquisitor asked with a slight smile.

"No, I don't think you're lying." Ramez shook his head. "That's impossible."

"Why?"

"There are two reasons. The first and most important reason is that the imperial guard—"

Ramitz stood up, touched his chest and nodded to him. The latter remained silent, but responded with the same courtesy.

"—Second, you don't look like someone who would lie."

"Everyone lies, Brother Ramitz."

"Yes, indeed, and let me correct you: you don't look like someone who would lie in such a situation."

"Why?" the Inquisitor demanded, the smile in his voice becoming even stronger.

Ramitz's voice suddenly changed, becoming confident, with a slightly higher pitch: "Intuition."

Kius raised his hand and pressed it against his cheekbone, his left hand supporting the tabletop, all the muscles in his body tensed.

He looked at Balaster, who was sitting on his left, for help, hoping to get some support from him - even if it was just something similar to his current mood, he could calm down for a while. However, he didn't expect that Balaster would agree with him.

"Intuition?" The Inquisitor smiled and repeated. "I thought you were going to say it was because of my clothes."

This time it was Ramitz's turn to be surprised: "Clothes? What's wrong with clothes?"

The judge smiled and raised his hands, lifted the collars on both sides of his coat, and patted the badge on his chest: "Don't you think this outfit looks very professional? If I change into casual clothes, the credibility of those words will probably be greatly reduced."

Finally, silence enveloped the conference room as expected. Ramez had tried hard to drive it away, but it won in the end. This thick fog enveloped everyone until a minute later, when a new voice broke its grip.

That sound was even made by the Imperial Guards.

"Your sense of humor—" he paused. "—is very sharp. Please get to the point, Master Khalil. These three loyal battle-brothers do not deserve this."

"Torture? That's a strange way of saying it. My jokes are always well received."

".Sir, with all due respect, the jokes you tell with your sense of humor are probably just bad jokes, and some of them are not even jokes at all."

The judge raised his eyebrows. "I'm going to find a specialist from the Ministry of Justice to sue you for using inappropriate words and defaming my reputation. You'd better think about it carefully. I have a witness."

The guard finally sighed. He didn't know if it was Kius's illusion, but he felt that the sigh sounded a little weak.
Then, he left his spot and walked straight towards Kius and his brothers like a living statue. He stopped in front of them, took off his helmet, revealing a dark face, and spoke expressionlessly.

"My name is Ra Endymion, and this is Caril Rohars, the Grand Inquisitor of the Inquisition. We have been ordered to go to Chemos to solve the long-standing problem of the Third Legion's difficulty in recruiting." "In order to solve this problem, in the name of the Sigillite and the Regent, we need you to temporarily stop this patrol mission and return with us to Chemos to inform your legions and primarchs in advance of this matter."

He glanced calmly around them, finally fixing his gaze on Kius's face and leaning forward slightly.

"Any more questions?" he asked.

The young corporal slowly stood up, put on his helmet, saluted with the Sky Eagle without saying a word, and then strode to the door. He turned back halfway and pulled up two of his team members.

With the Inquisitor's soft voice saying "You are too serious, La", he left the conference room with the almost bewildered Ramitz and Balaster, and then ran towards the bridge of the Tears of Resistance.
-
"The fruit should be arranged like this," said a man.

He was wearing a neat light-colored uniform, his face was fair and there was no trace of beard, but the wrinkles that represented old age and his gray hair were proof of his age.

He was teaching a young woman in the same uniform how to arrange a plate of freshly cut fruit. The fruit itself was nothing special, just ordinary fruits that could be found everywhere in Chemos and everyone could afford it.

But that plate was very different. It was very wide and very large, with a smooth surface and inlaid with fine gold lines. It was undoubtedly a work of art. Therefore, the woman's hands were shaking as she held it.

Seeing this, the man shook his head helplessly, reached out to take the porcelain plate, placed it on the long table beside him, and spoke again.

"Don't be too nervous, kid, this is just a job, you have to treat it with a normal attitude."

"Yes, yes," the young woman stammered. "The one we are going to serve——"

"Keep calm!" the man said in a serious tone. "Do you think he would blame you for placing one or two pieces of fruit? Besides, like I said, this is just a job. You must not have any outdated ideas like master and servant."

"Chemos is a progressive and civilized Chemos. He has spent so many years improving our living environment. What he hates most is hearing and seeing these things. You must not let him down."

The woman swayed and almost fell. The man had no choice but to support her, then gave her half a day off and left the large kitchen with the plate of fruit.

The corridor was clean and bright, with an oil painting hung every ten meters, mostly landscapes, such as fields, forests or streams. The man walked steadily, looking up at them from time to time.

He has lived in this house for most of his life, but he still stops to look at these paintings.
Firstly, because they are truly fascinating, and secondly, because of curiosity, the landscapes depicted in these paintings had been changed long before he was born.

People always want to explore things in the past.

The man stopped, bent his arm, and lightly lifted the silver plate in his arms with his left hand, treating its size as nothing. His movements were so skillful that there was even a sense of beauty in them. He straightened his collar, coughed, and gently knocked twice on the tall white wooden door in front of him.

It was not until a few seconds later that a response came from inside the door and the man pushed it open and walked in.

The world behind the door is extremely beautiful, it is a pure white terrace. Every detail contains a harmonious beauty, making it worthy of being called a work of art rather than an ordinary place to relax and rest. However, it is overshadowed by the presence of one person.

This person is like this. No matter when, where, or what kind of beauty he is surrounded by, he will always be the most dazzling and eye-catching one - in other words, he is the most beautiful.

Fulgrim looked up from his chair and smiled, his white hair falling from his forehead.

"Ah, Talpion, is your leave over?"

"Yes, my sir." The man called Talbion walked towards him meticulously and placed the fruit on the round table to the right of the armchair. "Today's fruit is apple peaches and blue grapes produced by Arles Manor. Please enjoy."

"Later, Talbion—" Fulgrim held up the book in his hand. "—I have almost finished this book."

"Aren't you going to rest today?" Talpion persuaded tactfully.

"Reading is a kind of relaxation for me, and this book is very interesting."

Fulgrim lowered his head again, flipping the pages of the book, and spoke softly: "The author of this book has spent more than a hundred years collecting rumors and stories from the streets and alleys. This is the sum of his life. We should always take other people's lives seriously."

"You're right, but the subject of this book sounds a little far-fetched."

Fulgrim laughed again, turned to the last page, read the last line, then closed the book and breathed a sigh of satisfaction.

"Not really. He screened every rumor and story to make sure it was related to some so-called cult. And, it is said that he disappeared after writing the book."

"Those who seek too much are often devoured by themselves," said Talpion in the dialect of Chemos.

Fulgrim smiled and nodded at him, then reached out and picked up a piece of the cut apple peach and put it into his mouth. He chewed it carefully, swallowed it, and then began to comment.

"Yes, their genetic modification project seems to have made sufficient progress. The apple peaches they sent this time are already 70% similar in taste to those delicate 18.5 degrees Celsius darlings."

"Can you please take some time to pass on a message for me, Talpion? Tell them to continue their efforts so that everyone in Chemos can eat fresh apples and peaches that do not require complicated preservation conditions."

Talbion bowed slightly, then turned and left. Fulgrim looked up at the sky and sighed softly.

It seemed that the azure blue sky, which was very rare in the empire, did not make him happy, and this precious, annual day off was completely unable to relax his ever-tense nerves. He looked at it for a long time until sleepiness came over him, and he let it capture him.

He closed his eyes and began to dream. He knew clearly that he was dreaming, and the dream slowly changed according to his will. Soon, one after another, familiar figures appeared from the corners of his memory.

In the dream, a phoenix with dark eyes and a nearly broken face looked at them, silent and speechless until nightfall. A crisp dripping sound came from his hand, and he took the initiative to end this dream of memories.

He picked up the communicator at hand.

"Primarch!"

"What is the matter?" Fulgrim asked quietly. "What has alarmed you, my Second Captain?"

"Corporal Kius and his squad ended their patrol early!"

"Oh? Then he must have encountered something, otherwise he would not give up halfway given his character." Fulgrim hesitated for half a second. "So, what was it?"

On the other end of the line, his second company commander was silent for a full half minute before he continued to speak, his voice extremely dry.

"He, he said he met a Grand Inquisitor named Caril Lohars and a Custodian. They were ordered to come to Chemos to solve our problem of recruiting difficulties."

Fulgrim crushed the communicator with his hands.

(End of this chapter)