40k: Midnight Blade.

Chapter 748 37. Preparations before War (II)

Cato Sicarius has great faith in his prosthetic limbs.

In terms of flexibility and stability, it was better than the left hand that had been eaten. Not to mention the sturdiness brought by the material. It was better than the original flesh and blood in almost every aspect, except for one thing, which Sicarius was slightly dissatisfied with.

——Phantom pain.

It's been several years, but he still feels pain.

It started with numbness and itchiness, but soon it developed into an almost insane pain. Those dense nerves that no longer existed would twitch like crazy in his imagination, making his flesh and blood become boiling and hot. It was like countless red-hot iron wires pierced deeply into his wrists, desperately trying to transform the metal into original flesh and blood.

But, to be fair, Sicarius was fully capable of enduring this pain, he just couldn't accept its existence - was my willpower so weak?
Many nights, he gritted his teeth and asked himself this question, but he never got an answer.

But now, he seems to have found a solution.

"get ready."

His opponent warned him kindly, but his movements were so ferocious that one could doubt that he really wanted to kill. After a few sharp sounds, the long sword made several complicated and indescribable changes in the next two seconds. Its only purpose was to bypass the shield in Sicarius's hand.

To do this, his opponent must truly deceive him. In other words, in this airtight and terrifying offensive, his opponent must first expose a flaw.

This is a very dangerous thing. Not to mention how obvious a mistake it would be to deliberately stand still in Sicarius' eyes, the fact that the flaw itself would be magnified into a dangerous situation of defeat would make people doubt: Is it really worth doing this?
Sicarius thought it was not worth it, but his opponent obviously disagreed, so the wills of the two turned into violence and collided with each other. In this dense and rain-like attack, their breathing and footsteps were not disordered at all.

Sicarius knew that his opponent was waiting, and so was he, but in this case he must have seized the opportunity first.
This is indeed the case.

Sixteen seconds after the long sword and shield collided with each other, Sicarius took a sudden step forward, and relying on the cover of the shield, he began to charge forward.

The power and speed combined in an instant, and finally landed on his opponent who was prepared but unable to dodge, knocking him off balance. The long sword's attack range advantage was reduced and even turned into a disadvantage, while Sicarius had already clenched his left fist, and the metal creaked.

With the first punch, he knocked down the long sword; with the second punch, he hit the opponent's chin. He could have continued to chase, after all, these two punches were not enough to end the fight, but he stopped on his own initiative and put down his shield.

"How?" he asked, his left hand still clenched.

"You win the bet, cousin," his opponent said very casually, smiled slightly, walked forward and took the initiative to shake his left hand.

Sicarius pulled out his left hand slightly awkwardly, nodded to him, and said nothing more - in fact, there was no need to say much about this battle. It was just a byproduct of a group of bored fighting brothers chatting with each other when they got together.

One side believes that if you hold a shield in your hand, even if you don't use a weapon with your other hand, you can still pose a great threat to enemies without powered weapons; the other side feels that although the advantage of a shield is very great in boarding and close combat, it is not so great that it can help the shield holder win without a weapon.
There was no point in talking any more, so they quickly found a separate venue and began to put theory into practice.

"You fought well." His opponent, Arkio from Basilisk II, praised him, still smiling. "How long have you served, brother Sicarius?"

"Eleven years," Sicarius said. "And you?"

"Eight years," Arkio shrugged.

The two smiled at each other, Arkio reached out to take his shield, and Sicarius turned around to pick up his long sword and left the open space.

Crossing the training ground, they hurried back to the small circle they had just established - the brothers Rafen and Arkio of the Second Battalion, himself, and Uriel Ventress and Pasanius Lesani who were also from the Fourth Company like him.

Sicarius didn't know much about the brothers Rafen and Arkio, except that they were the sons of the same chieftain and had more than just a blood connection to Sanguinius. But he knew the other two very well.
Not only because they had joined the army only three months apart from him, but also because they, like him, were always punished by Judd Clausell, the chaplain of the Fourth Company.

This old priest, who was a former instructor in the recruit camp, was once known for his ruthless style. After becoming the company chaplain, it became even worse. Any behavior that violated the regiment and company rules would attract his attention.

Therefore, unlike other recruits who were more obedient, they became the "celebrities" of the Fourth Company. In the weekly meeting, the old priest would always point out what mistakes the three of them had made this week, and then give them ruthless punishments. For example, extra training, assisting the regiment's document processors with complex paperwork, and doing hard labor under the technical sergeants.
Pasanius once confronted him at a regular meeting indignantly, thinking that the old pastor simply disliked them and was making things difficult for them. Judd Clausell didn't say a word at that time, not even a syllable.

He continued to do as he pleased and issued punishments, but after that meeting, he would accompany the three whenever they went to be punished.

He practiced with them, handled paperwork with them, and did hard labor with them, and still didn't say a word. Half a year later, Pasanius finally couldn't hold it anymore and made a special trip to find him to express his apologies, but the old priest still didn't say a word.

According to Pasanius' later recollection, he thought the old priest looked almost as if he was dying.

"--Hey, Sicarius." Pasanius winked at him and grinned, while reaching out to pull his shoulder. "Good fight, huh?"

Sicarius raised his eyes and glanced at him.

He actually hated looking up at him like that, but he had no choice, Pausanius had been very tall before he became an Astarte, and after the successful transformation surgery, this trait had not disappeared, but had even been enhanced.

Therefore, he is not just tall now, but more like burly. Looking at the entire Fourth Company, he is the strongest man, and sometimes one can even remove the suffix "one of".

"Why do you look like that?" Pasanius suddenly asked, and then quickly shouted, "Are you injured, Sicarius? Did you suffer internal injuries in the battle just now? Emperor, Arkio, look at what you have done to our adjutant!"

His noise made the two brothers smile knowingly, and Sicarius quickly raised his hands, freeing himself from his restraints, and sighed.

"Can't you be more mature?"

"Oh, my Lord, I'm sorry." Pasanius raised his hands in horror. "I'm so sorry about this!"

Sicarius resisted the urge to punch him in the face and spoke word by word: "First of all, I am not an adjutant—"

"--You just refused to accept it." Pasanius interrupted him immediately. "The captain wanted you to take over several years ago. Do you think we didn't know, brother?" "I'm not an adjutant." Sicarius glared at him in extreme annoyance. "Damn it, do you understand High Gothic?"

"So you are, cousin?" Rafen of Baal asked curiously.

"He refused," Uriel Ventress said. "He felt he wasn't ready, so he refused the captain's order in front of the whole company at a regular meeting. Wasn't that courageous?"

The two Blood Angel brothers nodded repeatedly, Pasanius grinned again, and even Ventress couldn't help but smile, with the corners of his mouth slightly curved. Among the five people present, only Cato Sicarius had a blank expression.

"Anyway, he decided to stay with us for a few more years." Ventress continued. "So he is not an adjutant, but he could be an adjutant - depending on the situation, if we need someone to make fun of, then..."

He smiled slightly and said nothing more, perhaps because he felt that this was enough, or perhaps because he saw Sicarius's eyes twitching. In any case, he finished his story and Rafen took over.

"That reminds me of our brother Mephisto," the Blood Angel said thoughtfully, suggesting a name. "He is like you, Sicarius. He also refused the promotion, and I have not seen him use any psionic magic in at least three years."

"He's like a priest now," Arkio said, taking over his brother's words. "Before every battle, he stays with us, but he doesn't use any spells like the other Librarians. He just stands beside the standard bearer, recites the Imperial Prayer, and then fights with us."

Sicarius saw the face of the Blood Angel on the transport plane, and couldn't help but feel a little surprised - a think tank apprentice who didn't use psychic power and had refused promotion? There was actually someone in this world who was even stranger than him?
Unconsciously, he smiled and clenched his left hand. This extremely slight movement was only noticed by Uriel Ventress, but he said nothing and just changed the topic.

"We've been here three days, right?"

"Six Terra hours until the fourth day." Rafen nodded at him. "What's the matter, Brother Ventress? Why do you bring this up so suddenly?"

"I was just wondering when we're going to meet the Forge General. He never showed up, did he? He just said a few words of welcome when we arrived. And I doubt those words were actually recorded."

"Not really?" Pasanius muttered. "How could a forging general do such a thing?"

Arkio joined the discussion with great interest, while lowering his voice: "I think it's possible. Mechanical priests are always mysterious, don't you think?"

His words immediately drew a stern gaze from his brother: "You've dealt with a few mechanical priests, and you dare to speak so arrogantly, Arkio?"

"two."

"What?" Rafen asked in surprise. "Two? Not one? I clearly remember that we only worked with one priest. Could it be that you were chosen to carry out some secret mission?"

His brother couldn't help but chuckle, then shook his head confidently: "No, but, including this Casting General, isn't that two?"

Rafen was silent for half a second, threw out a sentence in Baltu language, and then shook his head in disappointment. He wanted to continue speaking, but was interrupted by a sudden buzzing sound coming from directly above them.

The five of them looked up at the same time, and saw a low-speed disc-shaped machine coming out of a crack. It was completely black, without any flying designs such as blades, but it was still floating steadily above their heads.

Then, a unique, unforgettable synthesized sound quickly rang out from the disc.

"Where is Battle-Brother Cato Sicarius?"

The four of them lowered their heads and looked at him. Sicarius hesitated for a moment before hesitantly raising his left hand.

"That's me. May I ask what I can do for you?"

The disk did not answer immediately. Instead, it descended and circled around him several times with a buzzing sound. It was not until he even felt a little uncomfortable that it opened its mouth to answer.

"Good, good." The synthesized voice became somewhat cheerful. "There is a reason why your captain recommended you to me, Brother Sicarius. Come with me now. I need your help."

As soon as the words fell, it immediately began to spin, as if it was about to leave. Sicarius hurriedly stopped it, his expression confused and alert.

"Please wait a moment. Are you the Lord Forging General Belisarius Cawl? I must confirm this before I can go with you."

The disc stopped spinning.

It didn't have a face or any design that could support it to make "expressions" or "body language", but Sicarius saw a strange mockery in the silence of the disk. It was not malicious, and could even be said to be gentle, but it was very unbearable.

It was not until several seconds later that the disc continued to make sound.

"No, Brother Sicarius," it said lightly. "In fact, I am a clone of Belisarius Cawl, Belisarius Cawl No. 1,599 - I came to you to trick you into helping me carry out a plan to assassinate Belisarius Cawl so that I can take his place. How about that? How about this explanation?"

Sicarius sighed, realizing that this Forging General not only had an unusual sense of humor, but was also extremely difficult to get along with. But what could he do?

He turned around and handed the shield to the silent Pasanius, then gestured to Ventress and turned back to the disk.

"Please, sir," he said. "What can I do for you?"

The disk snorted and chuckled, spinning away from where it was, leaving behind a few words.

"How about you help me put on a set of experimental power armor? Do you want to come?"

Sicarius said nothing, but immediately quickened his pace.

(End of this chapter)