40k: Midnight Blade.

Chapter 746 35. Did the fight really start a fire?

Sanguinius laughed and dropped his sword.

His smile was very beautiful, the kind that would appear in both religious paintings and certain unspeakable folk paintings; the force with which he threw the sword was also very gentle, with such a small amplitude that it didn't seem like he was throwing a sword, but rather like letting sand slide naturally through his fingers.

But if you take one look at the sword, you'll know what's lurking beneath that smile.

The sword was broken, with only one third of its length left. Both blades were full of serrations, and the blade was full of holes. One side of its guard had been broken off, and the solid counterweight ball at the tail had even been compressed by some force into a ridiculous shape.
What kind of battle could destroy a weapon that originated from Perturabo's hands?
Roboute Guilliman glanced down at the broken sword in his hand and actually smiled.

Like his brother, he threw the sword, but less gently and with a more misleading gesture.

He pretended to hurl it at Sanguinius, but in fact he flicked his fingers and threw it behind him, then rushed forward and hugged the angel, his hands already on his back.

Sanguinius chuckled in surprise, stomped his left foot on the ground to steady himself, stretched out his hands forward, and grabbed Guilliman's shoulders.

After a few seconds of stalemate, the two men simultaneously let go and retreated, then charged at each other at the same pace. After a loud bang, their hands pressed against each other, their bones creaked, their skin tightened, and the fight was just the beginning.
The turning point came after several rounds, when Sanguinius seized an opportunity.

Taking advantage of the tiny moment his brother took to catch his breath, he actually stepped forward and smashed his fists down without any hesitation, landing heavily on Guilliman's shoulders.

The latter's breathing was disordered, but the angel did not intend to stop. He changed his fist into a palm, leaned on the back of Guilliman's neck, and instantly exerted force with the muscles in both arms. He pulled downwards suddenly, and his right knee pushed up very skillfully.

Another muffled sound was heard, echoing in the field, but Guilliman was not hurt. Instead, he blocked the angel's knee strike with one hand, and his free right hand pushed upward without warning, giving Sanguinius a heavy blow on the chin with the base of his palm.

Even though he was an angel, he was dazzled by this method of breaking the spell that shouldn't have existed, but he didn't let go. He even intensified it and increased the number of knee strikes.

Guilliman blocked the first attack with his experience, and the second and third with his reaction and luck, but he was unable to block the Angel's lightning-fast fourth knee strike.

He was hit mercilessly on the lower left rib, the blow was so heavy that he let out a muffled groan.

"Robert!"

The angel shouted his name with laughter, withdrew his right hand, bent his arm naturally, and then raised his elbow and struck Guilliman in the face.

The latter raised his hand to block, without any anger on his face, and even smiled - he raised his hand to block the sudden attack, clenched his right fist and hit accurately on the inner joint of Sanguinius' left hand that he used to control him.

The Archangel gasped in pain and tingling, and he paid the price for it. Guilliman immediately attacked with a heavy punch, knocking Sanguinius back a few steps.

He was also a man who would not give up once he had an advantage, so he immediately seized the opportunity and began pursuit, reversing the situation in an instant.

Jab, hook, swing. With extreme patience and distance control ability that had somehow been trained to perfection, the white-haired Lord of Five Hundred Worlds successfully knocked the Archangel of Baal to the ground after a dozen attacks and defenses.

"How is it?" He panted, stood there with his hands on his waist, and asked with a smile. "Are you satisfied?"

The archangel grinned slowly, and with a flash of his left hand, he threw a handful of sand directly onto his brother's face.

This was the first time since the battle began that Robouti Guilliman had voiced his surprise - he had never expected Sanguinius to behave in such an unbecoming way.

However, as a warrior with a strong competitive spirit, the angel did not think there was anything wrong with this.

He pushed himself up excitedly, and with the momentum of a missile explosion, rushed straight at Guilliman, knocked him to the ground with a shoulder butt, and began to beat him with both fists without any technique.

Guilliman blocked silently, gathering strength, and although he was hit by a few punches, he still reversed the situation again.

He rolled over and drove the angel into the sand pile, then caught him and elbowed him from top to bottom, and then used all the moves he had at his disposal, without any logic at all.

Although they were fighting in such a ferocious way, and they were clearly grimacing in pain from each other's fists, both of them looked like they were enjoying it. Not only did they not have the anger that Idaeos in the stands imagined, but they seemed to be getting happier and happier as the fight went on.
They even found an opportunity to leave the ground where they had been fighting, and began to pace towards each other, testing each other.

Of course, verbal confrontation is also part of the test.

"Does it hurt, Court Prince?" Sanguinius asked, panting. "I hope you can hold on, because I don't intend to go back now."

Guilliman raised his eyebrows and snorted, then bent down and bowed, performing a very exaggerated court salute.

"It doesn't hurt at all. As the protagonist of the most traded portrait in the entire empire, I can certainly hold on, but what about you? I don't want to go back now either."

"I think -" the angel took a deep breath. " - we can still fight for a while and let them rest for a while."

Guilliman nodded, tilted his head back and twisted his neck, then sighed in relief. "I agree. Meetings that last for dozens of hours without stopping are a huge drain on a mortal's brainpower. But what about the Vanguard?"

“It depends on who wins.”

"Agreed again."

"Come on, then?"

"Come."

The two nodded to each other and started to move closer to each other. However, a sound coming from the edge of the sand pit forced them to stop.

"I was wondering why you guys suddenly became so aggressive and aggressive."

Khalil, wearing a uniform with three heavy representative badges on his chest, expressed his sigh expressionlessly. The two primarchs didn't know when he came, but they all knew that it was time to stop.

They put down their hands somewhat awkwardly, but Khalil's expression did not change. He just took off his hat and fanned himself, and his pale face showed a bit of boredom that only belongs to the living.

"Next time you have this idea, please give me a signal, okay? My Lords?"

"You?" Guilliman's rationality took over again and he immediately refuted. "How can you legitimately participate in this kind of fight?"

"He can be the referee, brother." The angel patted his shoulder. "The chief justice, the presiding judge, and now the temporary representative of the State Council - if there is a next time, we can definitely ask him to be the referee."

Khalil immediately raised his hand to show his agreement, but Guilliman shook his head again. "In that case, the nature of the fight has changed. This was originally just a private duel, and it is not a serious matter for the Primarchs to use appropriate force to resolve their disputes."

"However, if we ask him to be the referee, it means that we take the outcome of this duel very seriously and even hope that an official who can represent the imperial law and judgment will witness it. This is no small matter and it must be recorded."

Sanguinius sighed and shrugged, "Well, great statesman - it seems that my level is still not up to par with yours."

Hearing this, in such a short time after his rationality returned, Robert Guilliman expressed his objection for the third time without hesitation.

"No, you just have a different style than me," he said very seriously. "And it was you who originally came up with the idea of ​​this duel, brother."

"It will both avoid the unrest that might arise from our announcement of a temporary recess and allow them to enjoy the same rest time. However, I think we'd better establish some new rules, such as reducing the pomp of the meeting, reducing the guard of honor and musicians, and the scribes responsible for recording. Why are you looking at me like that?"

Khalil and Sanguinius shook their heads in unison but said nothing. Guilliman frowned in suspicion and wanted to say something, but in the end he gave up and just waved his hand, turned away from the bunker and walked towards his dressing room.

He had completely withdrawn from the state of fighting, and now all he wanted to do was quickly wash up, change his clothes, and leave, returning to the venue so that the meeting could continue.

The archangel looked at his back with a sigh, until he completely disappeared, then he lowered his head and said: "Now, he is always very direct when it comes to political matters. Have you noticed, Khalil? This is different from his past."

Khalil smiled at him. "Politics is the art of compromise and lying, but I think Robouti Guilliman would scoff at them now."

Hearing this, the angel suddenly winked at him and said with a smile, "You are now completely different from what Conrad said before. You are not stingy with praise at all. But why didn't you say it in front of him just now? Don't you want to?"

"No, neither," Khalil said, glancing down at his shadow until he was sure it was normal.

"What's the reason?" the angel asked, trying to suppress a smile.

"Because he won't accept it, my reliable Archangel - please wash off all the paint and sand quickly and change your clothes. We still have a long meeting to go, and it can't do without you."

"It will be even worse without you, respected Grand Justice, Chief Judge, and temporary representative of the Executive Yuan."

Khalil narrowed his eyes, and the angel immediately stopped talking and ran away laughing.

Ten minutes later, the meeting continued.

It seemed that the two Primarchs, who had resolved their differences by force, unanimously agreed that the vanguard of this expedition should be jointly served by the Blood Angels and the Ultramarines. Their combination would give the expedition fleet an indestructible spear.

The main combat force will be a mix of Imperial Fists and Iron Warriors sub-regiments. At the same time, there will also be a small force specializing in decapitation raids, composed of Night Blades.

No one among the participants objected to this, and the meeting progressed rapidly, soon coming to some relatively troublesome issues, such as the dispatch of large-scale auxiliary military forces and naval fleets.

Due to the size of the empire, although the assembly order had been issued several months in advance, about 60% of the troops had not yet arrived, not to mention the most headache-inducing logistical issues.
As the meeting time approached around seventy-six hours, Khalil stood up and announced the end of the meeting and that another meeting would be held in five days.

"In this battle, we will face the most dangerous aliens in the galaxy, even the most dangerous aliens. Therefore, there is no need to rush to assemble the troops, but the logistics must be in place quickly."

"At the meeting in five days, I hope you have prepared the phased plans and reports. In addition, if possible, please do not use traditional stone tablets to write them. Parchment scrolls and data tablets are both fine, and the latter is best."

He paused for a moment, raised his hand in salute, and looked around the entire venue: "That's it, adjourn the meeting, may the Emperor bless us."

As soon as he finished speaking, the musicians who had been prepared immediately began to play music, which was grand and majestic, making the departure extremely serious.

The representatives of the Mechanicus left the venue first, flying or walking, leaving one by one through the 25-meter-high gate of the venue. Then came the officers of the Military Affairs Department, marching in step, doing their best to show the spirit and vigor of a soldier after this long meeting, and left in a square formation. The priests of the State Church were the last to leave, and each of them performed a second kind of etiquette to Khalil before leaving, which was different from the Sky Eagle Salute.

By the time it was all over, time had already been pushed back a full three and a half hours.

Khalil took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, then immediately took off his hat and threw it on the long table in front of him.

The four Primarchs walked towards him with different expressions.

Roboute Guilliman looked sympathetic, Sanguinius smiled slightly, Perturabo frowned habitually, and Rogal Dorn seemed thoughtful.

"Are five days enough for you to write documents and send them to the Ministry of Military Affairs, the Court of Inquiry, and the Executive Yuan?" asked the Lord of Five Hundred Worlds in a low voice, as if he felt the same way.

Khalil shook his head.

"How does it feel? The feeling that everyone comes to you for something?" The archangel asked with a smile on his face.

Khalil shook his head.

"For logistical issues, you can contact Belisarius Cawl." The Iron Lord said, crossing his arms and tapping his index fingers on the surface of his iron arms at the same time, making a monotonous sound. "He is easier to communicate with than those stubborn academic cliques on Mars."

Khalil nodded.

"I have a feeling." Rogal Dorn raised his hand and touched his neck, as if it was itchy. His eyes were very serious under his short gray hair. "This battle will be very difficult."

Khalil nodded.

Finally, he made some sounds.

"After all, we are going to fight against the tombstones of the Necrontyr, so even if there are unexpected situations, it is probably reasonable - but we still have to fight."

He looked up at the huge transparent dome of the conference room. Directly above it, a huge column of blazing white light was burning steadily.

The hope of humanity.

He stared at it and slowly stood up.

"The museum of the Solomus Dynasty has nearly hundreds of thousands of collections, ranging from living people to weapons, armor, and even warships. We want them to come back, and let the galaxy know that humanity has stood up again."

(End of this chapter)