40k: Midnight Blade.

Chapter 796 17. Malice
I've seen bad things - burning worlds, collapsing cities, crying people, and so on, all of which are horrible apocalyptic scenes.

These things are enough to crush the nerves of ordinary people, forcing them to fall into madness, or even further, become puppets of despair.

But I am a member of the Inquisition after all, and willpower is the basis of all our training, so I can still bear it. However, before I really understood it, I thought willpower was innate, until later, I found that it was not the case.

In fact, the somewhat abstract concept of willpower can be driven to become stronger by other factors, just like courage. Most of the time, people who stand up in times of crisis are not the fearless people in the eyes of the public. It is something that drives them to make decisions.

These things are now pushing me forward from behind.

But I really, really hate this place.

Here - a dark and narrow corridor.

There was no light, and it was extremely cold. Every time I lifted my boots, I felt a sticky sensation, as if the soles of my feet were covered in foul-smelling, rotting pus and blood.

The deeper I went, the stronger the feeling became, until it almost felt like the blood was corroding the soles of my boots and gnawing at my toes like a living thing.

If I didn't know the truth here, I would probably lower my head and observe, and then be captured by my mind.

I forced myself to raise my hand and press the unlock panel on the wall. After a brief biometric verification, it made a slight beep and the light turned from blue to green.

With a buzzing sound, a rusty door slowly slid open in front of me, and inside was a...
OK, now imagine a Thinker, a larger one, the kind called a 'truck'.

Then imagine a skinned lifeless being, with every tendon in its body pulled out individually and connected to specially separated parts inside the truck.

Finally, imagine fifty mummified corpses bound in chains, with their brains exposed and long cables plugged into them, forming some kind of network to power the 'truck'.
One of them turned and looked at me.

"Renthal Sable," it called out my name, its tone calm. "This is your third time here, and you have two more chances left."

"Thank you for reminding me." I said politely. "Now please"

A pitch-black wooden box floated out from the inner pocket of my uniform, and was then opened by an invisible hand. A thin, silver-glowing needle flew towards the lifeless being.

It seemed to have foreseen something, and its thin and withered body trembled, but it was no longer able to wail or roar, and the silver needle pierced the center of its forehead.

Instantly, the shaking intensified, like an epileptic seizure. The tendons that had been pulled out of the body began to shake violently, and the parts of the "truck" made an annoying banging sound.

I silently reached into my bosom, pulled out the pipe I had borrowed from Caplin, lit it, and took a long puff.

The rich and smooth smell of tobacco slid across my tongue and throat, slightly dispelling some of the discomfort - that old guy was really nice. I just borrowed his pipe, but I didn't expect him to give me a whole pipe of Chocolatier specialty.
Amid the smoke, the mummy spoke again in a serious voice.

"Where did you find this?"

"It wasn't me, Master Greg, it was the Grand Inquisitor," I said. "He ran into a cult at a trading post near Nuceria."

"May the blood on his knife never dry up." The mummy sighed deeply, and then asked, "Who do you believe in?"

"They thought they were worshipping a deity called the Joyful Dancer, and they didn't know the truth - but this cult was indeed quite capable. They infiltrated Nuceria and took deep root in its largest city. Although it has now been eradicated by the Grand Inquisitor, I believe there are still many that have escaped."

Hearing this, the mummy's terrifying face seemed to become much gloomier. I felt that he was in a state of rage, which might be related to the fact that he was from Nuceria.

Alas, Greg Zanser.

Born six centuries ago, he was once the youngest and most promising agent of the Ministry of Justice in Nuceria. Later, he was specially recruited by the Sigil Master to join the Inquisition. He was promoted in the fourth year after joining the company. Since then, he has made many achievements and defeated many plots of powerful enemies.
He is almost a role model for inquisitors, self-denying, unwavering, indestructible, ruthless yet with the necessary compassion, and absolutely cruel to himself.

Those fifty mummies were actually all him, but forty-nine of them were clones.

The lifeless being or demon was his final enemy, summoned at the cost of the souls of all the people in the galaxy.

An evil ritual fixed the life it had stolen, allowing it to be barely recognized by the material world, and common banishment arrays were ineffective against it.

The Inquisitors later discovered that if they wanted to cause damage to it, they would have to go to the galaxy whose name had now been erased, start from the source, and reverse the entire ritual formation.

This method is troublesome, but it is still a solution, although it is likely to require the use of the Time Court. Unfortunately, Greg did not know this at the time. In fact, even if he knew, he would not have time at that time.
In order to prevent this powerful demon from entering the solar system, which was in turmoil at the time, and causing greater chaos, Master Greg made up his mind. In the end, this demon and he were trapped here forever - in a dimensional maze.

After the matter came to an end, the Inquisition had been studying how to rescue Greg and kill this demon forever, but he himself came up with a new idea.

He believed that activating the Time Chamber to deal with such a serious problem would inevitably cause more problems, and no one could say for sure whether this was part of a conspiracy planned by the enemies.

He suggested leaving things as they were, and he thought his colleagues could use this opportunity to test the many evil objects they had confiscated in the past.

You can test it any way you want, this demon won't die.

This crazy suggestion was initially strongly opposed by others, and some inquisitors even believed that Greg had been possessed by another spirit, and that all this was just the devil's crazy talk aimed at disrupting their minds.

It was not until the seal holder arrived in person and met with Greg that he overruled all objections and took the lead in promoting the matter.

For hundreds of years, countless evil creatures, dangerous new prototype weapons developed within the empire, and even various curses, spells, and anti-curse solutions were tested over and over on that demon.
This is truly torture among tortures.

I smoked my pipe silently, my left hand in my pocket playing with a Sky Eagle emblem.

Time passed slowly, and the demon suddenly wailed. I looked up and found that the soul-stealing needle had completely disappeared. A strange sound that made my teeth ache followed, and something silver, like bone and steel, was brought out of its head.

They twisted and twitched like living things, then lurched back into flesh.

The demon had chosen a form that was similar to humans but completely different from humans in order to mock us when it appeared in the world, and now it was reaping the fruits of its labor. Rancid and sticky blood gushed out of its seven orifices, and the sound of heavy squeezing mixed with its screams began to echo.

"Master Greg"

"This is not the Butcher's Nail," the mummy said. "It's something worse."

It turned its head, and the depths of its eye sockets were empty, with nothing in them, but I could feel a serious gaze. It was as if this person who had imprisoned a demon and himself here for hundreds of years with his own strength and deep hatred had not gone crazy from beginning to end, and was still able to think clearly and rationally. "I ask you to give me a more detailed explanation."

I said, my left hand already tightly grasping the Sky Eagle, and the pipe had just left my lips when it was suddenly extinguished by the cold wind that filled the dark room.

The mummy opened its withered lips and spoke slowly in a hoarse, yet still cold voice.

"Someone modeled it after the Butcher's Nail. Listen carefully, Renthal Sable, listen to its wail - have you ever seen such despair in the Unliving?"

As he said, the thing was begging for release in its own language.

This blasphemous language has echoed in the warp for countless years since it was created. How many innocent souls have it mocked with it? But now it is so humble that it does not hesitate to let a mortal like me hear it clearly.

I could have laughed at it, and in fact, I should have laughed at it, but I forgot about it.

I was shaking and fighting fear.

"Please go back and tell the Grand Inquisitor." The mummy paused for a moment, and the fury flashed away. "The essence of this thing is derived from the Butcher's Nail, but its essence has been connected to things in the warp. Ordinary evil things can never cause it to suffer so much. I can feel that it is being changed. This matter is very serious and will definitely involve many worlds. Please be careful."

As it finished speaking, a piece of the 'truck' floated up and landed in front of me.

This dark and heavy machine quickly handed me the written report in the form of a document, but I had no intention of reading it carefully. I just glanced through it a few times and quickly finished it. At this moment, I just wanted to report the matter truthfully.

Serrano's keen sixth sense came true again. A few hours later, after the war dogs learned the whole story and the truth, they were bound to cause a river of blood to flow for all those involved.

"Go away, Renthal Sable," the mummy said. "May we never see each other again."

"Thank you for your help, Master Greg," I whispered, turning and leaving.

Soon, accompanied by a strong tearing sensation, I left the dimensional maze.

Inquisitor Alexios observed me carefully for a while, until I raised my hand to him and made a few complicated gestures, and took out the Sky Eagle emblem with my own hands, he put down his gun. My mistress did the same, but her movements were faster.

"How was it?" she asked.

I raised my hand and handed over the document. I didn't want to say a word, but just turned my head and stared out the window.

The world outside the porthole is cold and solemn. A huge, brightly colored sphere is floating not far away, waiting for our arrival. However, my thoughts have risen to a more distant place.
For some reason, I couldn't even concentrate on the present moment. Thousands of thoughts were running at the same time, creating an unprecedented earthquake in my heart.

I was forced to grit my teeth and endure the pain. Inquisitor Alexios immediately noticed my situation and came over.

He still held his signature Destroyer pistol in his hand, but the left hand that rested on my shoulder was very gentle, as if he was afraid to irritate or hurt me.

"Sable," he whispered. "Take a deep breath."

I immediately did as I was told.

"continue."

"Don't mind him," said my mistress coldly. "He can't die--he can live even if we all die."

The judge seemed to look up at her, but ignored her and took out an injection and handed it to me.

"This is the latest sedative prepared by the Medical Institute. You can consider whether to inject it or not, Sable." He said, and then walked to Serrano.

The latter had finished reading and handed the document to him. She sneered, came to me, and took the tranquilizer from me.

I was about to say something, but when I looked up, I saw the silver tip of the needle.
This scene really touched upon some bad memories, and I instinctively dodged backwards. However, she pounced on me as if enraged, and injected the sedative into my neck without giving me any explanation.

The efficient injection method brought about a rapid effect. In just a few seconds, I fell back, leaned against the sofa, and let out a long sigh.

"I'll give you thirty minutes to recover," she said calmly. "But you'd better be back to normal before we land, or you'll suffer the consequences."

"Are you too strict with him?" Judge Alexios, who had watched the whole process, asked with an expression of dismay.

"What the hell has this got to do with you?" my mistress hurled a vulgar insult without even turning her head.

"To be honest, it doesn't matter."

"Why don't you just shut up?"

"My sense of justice makes it difficult for me to remain silent at this time - at this time, silence is to become an accomplice."

My mistress sneered again.

"Really? Why didn't you talk about justice when you sacrificed your colleagues? Hmm? Although they were willing, I don't believe you couldn't find a better way at the time. I used to regard you as a driving force for progress, Alexios Halstrade. But now, you make me feel sick."

She threw down these words and turned around and left. The two daggers holding up the black robe did not tremble at all, which meant that she walked very steadily.
From what I know about her, she must have imagined this scene many times in her mind.

I felt a little sad - how could a pair of good friends, a pair of partners who were not master and apprentice but better than master and apprentice, become like this today?
Inquisitor Alexios sighed slowly. I looked at him and saw a bitter smile on his weather-beaten face for the first time.

"She has a natural knack for inflicting pain." He shook his head at me. "You're in for a hard time, Renthal."

I didn't say anything, just nodded. I knew this a long time ago and I'm used to it.

I closed my eyes and waited for the landing. Thirty-seven minutes later, I felt a tremor beneath my feet.

We arrived in Nuceria.

(End of this chapter)