Warhammer 40: Shattered Steel Soul

Chapter 267 Pulling down the old tomb

The battle on world 154-4 has ended.

Konrad Curze and the mortal Faas handle all matters related to the Eldar. They discuss, assign tasks, and issue instructions. For the sake of convenience, they directly use the language of the Eldar in these processes.

This left the remaining Primarchs to sit in one place, looking at each other, waiting for Curze to give them a definite answer after completing the arrangements.

"He was there," Perturabo emphasized the emphasis on the first word. "He, vouched for Curze."

"We know, Perturabo," Fulgrim said, suddenly remembering the pterosaur skin that Curze peeled off on the battlefield, and then fell back into the field during the chaos. He felt a little sorry for this, although there didn't seem to be much reason for it.

The purple-robed Phoenix took off his gauntlet and moved his fingers.

"Eldar, human, let Konrad Curze do it, and you, Vulkan," he sent a look to Vulcan, awakening the Lord of the Fire Dragon who was looking in the direction of the Eldar. , "This is Salamander's military exploits. Maybe you can go and see it?"

"Good advice." Vulcan stood up and grinned, having recovered from his previous fluctuating mood. "Ibsen's matter is also my responsibility. I'll go take a look."

"His kindness is fatal. Also, what on earth is this?" Ferus, who didn't speak much, spoke, commenting on Vulcan by the way. His eyes were always focused on Perturabo's mechanical body, "How do you place your consciousness on steel? The characteristic migration of Magnus's spiritual transmission technology?"

"Why this inference?" asked Perturabo.

Ferus also took off his gauntlets and relaxed his hands that were tired from the battle in the air. Silver light flows on his arms, like some unique active substance with an alternative vitality.

"It's very similar," he said. "If your other half of the bionic skin is not damaged, it will be more similar to his body shaping technology."

Magnus sounds like he's finally finished working on his body transfer technology. thought Pertura. Will his own efforts ever succeed? It's a miracle.

"Maybe his skills are similar to mine?" Perturabo made a small joke and shook his head.

Fulgrim was the only one to laugh, which was considered a successful joke considering the personalities of the remaining Ferrus and Rogal Dorn.

After laughing, Fulgrim coughed lightly, straightened his posture, and his moving face was more beautiful due to his seriousness, "If you want to turn your acquaintance with Konrad Curze into countless Iron Warrior Legions, Another piece of privacy among secrets, we will respect your wishes. After today, the Emperor's Pride's scanning array can assume that it has not seen a strange machine."

"Same," Ferrus said. "However, good technology deserves to be shared."

"Subject to your wishes." Dorn added.

"And you, Dorn. In Nostramo, you were hinting to Conrad about my existence." Perturabo pondered for a moment, "Yes, we are both here."

A smile flashed across Dorn's stern face. "That's good news for you," he said.

"Yes, for me." Perturabo nodded slightly. "I suppose the same goes for the Empire."

Fulgrim held his chin and watched the two men playing riddles. Not only did he not show any confusion, but he was rather enjoying it.

"Once again," he said dramatically, "the mystery between the Iron Warriors and the Imperial Fists. As integral as sunrise and sunset...or as integral as the gravity of the planet, after all we have just passed through eternity. Nostramo at night.”

"Not really." Dorn retorted, spreading his palms covered with bright yellow gauntlets, "We will not create secrets for no reason."

Perturabo sighed in his mechanical voice, "Don't use a personal pronoun together, Rogal Dorn, you don't create secrets for no reason, and I don't create secrets for no reason."

"I can feel the difference, but I think this is an unnecessary correction. In fact, it will cause a reverse semantic reinforcement effect." Dorn said seriously.

"I think you just didn't understand Perturabo's hint, Rogge." Fulgrim shrugged, his white hair hanging down on his pauldrons, shining slightly.

"And he was literally contradicting me," Perturabo said. "In a way, it was a meaningful discussion."

Rogal Dorn put his hands together again, "Perturabo is right, and at the same time, I can understand the humorous part of this sentence. If you really need me to explain..."

"When will they be able to complete the discussion?" Ferus' silver-mirror eyes reflected Vulkan's location.

Dorn silently closed his mouth and looked in another direction with the other Primarchs.

-

Vulkan followed Konrad Coze and walked towards the World Temple that was originally located in the center of the barrier. The boulder blocking the temple door had been moved away, and they went all the way deep into the grotto, passing through the long corridor painted with Eldar runes, and approached the core of the temple.

"So..." Vulkan asked, while looking at the webway snake rune extending from the snake's tail in the mural, "According to your words, there are different factions within the Eldar?"

"It is true, but this is just a statement. I have no intention of defending any Eldar's reputation." Curze said, leading Vulkan down the steps step by step. All the weird totems and blasphemous statues here made Vulkan unable to feel happy.

"I have something to show you, Vulkan." Coze said, stepping aside so that Vulkan, who was following him, could directly see the center of the circular temple.

Mortals, no doubt human mortals, were gathering here in droves, looking up in fear at the tall bodies of the two Primarchs; their priests murmured softly, gently comforting each frightened native.

Vulkan's eyes were naturally attracted to the bright light in the center of the rotunda.

A bright ring of fire illuminated a frail Eldar who was tied to a stone pillar and impaled by a metal spike. She was dying, held upright only by the torture devices that bound her.

When Vulkan saw the face of the Eldar clearly, the memories of the past came flooding back instantly, like the ash left behind after the Nocturne volcano erupted, covering the sky and rolling endlessly.

"Twilight Ghost..." he whispered, his fists clenching involuntarily.

This was the Eldar raider who wreaked havoc on Nocturne in the past. Vulkan was present when the nightmare-like vicious blade of the witch in front of him pierced the belly of Blacksmith Brohar and disembowelled the heroic mortal.

His fist recalled the feeling of knocking the witch away, and the deep feeling of powerlessness in his heart when the witch was able to escape and disappear through the slit, leaving only a mess of purgatory.

"According to the laws of the empire..." Coze's voice came faintly, and Vulkan took a sharp breath and broke away from the memory.

Coates stared at his sad face and continued softly: "Second-degree murder, that is, the murder of at least two civilians, with a minimum sentence of ten years of slavery; crime of blasphemy, first-degree assault, intentional attack on nobles and public servants, the sentence Life imprisonment, machine slavery, or death; second-degree intentional multiple assault on civilians, three to ten years; second-degree simple kidnapping, twenty to thirty years of slavery; armed robbery, ten to twenty years of slavery; arson, Sentence to death or penal camp..."

"Since we are on the home planet of the Empire's original body, we will be convicted according to the punishments of the Empire. I will not list all these crimes one by one. I personally think that I should be sentenced to servitude for five hundred to seven hundred years, or be used as a machine servant until it is scrapped. It is more in line with the empire's judgment standards." Coze paused, "But I will hand this Witch Spirit over to you, Vulkan. Because more specifically, the place where she committed evil is within your jurisdiction."

Conrad Coates's step-by-step verdict relieved Vulcan's anger.

If Curze were not here, whether human or Eldar, he would probably purify everyone in this cave with fire, because they would not be able to obey the control of the Empire. But Curze provided another possibility, and from this perspective, Vulkan was grateful to him.

"According to...the laws of Comoros?" Vulcan asked.

"Comorragh will not execute a raider unless she is a loser." Curze said, walking towards the Witch Spirit, leaning over and pinching her face, observing the heart-piercing blade pattern carved on the forehead by the Black Heart Cabal. , "But in my rules, she will atone until the sins are repaid and the bloody hands are washed away. The Night Ghost Court is a sin-washing cage for the atonement, not an Edenic paradise for the innocent."

He let go of the Witch Spirit and let her head drop again. "But there is a problem in this." He looked at Vulkan, "Do you think there will be a day when she can redeem her sins?"

Vulkan heard his hot blood flowing in his arteries. Although he was still angry, he replied: "Everyone can pay off his debts one day."

"You said this for me, Vulkan. This is why I gave her to you." Coze smiled, not the usual sly sneer, but a peaceful and natural smile. "You have full authority to sentence her to life and death. She will not belong to the Night Ghost King's Court."

"I remember." Vulkan nodded and asked again: "How...how do you know that I know her?"

Curze stretched out his hand to Vulkan, motioning for him to hand over his palm. Then, he grabbed Vulcan's hand, traced the palm lines with his pale fingertips like divination, and led him further into the depths of the temple.

"Believe it or not, I am a failed visionary." He said, letting go of Vulcan and rubbing his fingers. "I can always see a future where true and false are intertwined. Those are particularly strange stories. Accompany me through the period of my growth. I use them to waste every long night."

"Did you see it?" Vulkan chose to believe it. "No wonder you were so skillful when you hit me."

"I think so," Coates said, smiling.

They walked through the cloister and heard the sound of gurgling water. The water flowing deep in the cave circles the stone wall. Where the water flows, the moss is green, and the rich green and light green interweave into a quiet ribbon. On the stone wall, the runes glow and fade, leaving traces of water vapor.

Walking along the trail to the depths, the scenery suddenly opens up, with streams and springs, fish swimming in deep waterfalls, surrounded by stone walls, scattered obelisks, and dense blue branches on the side. There is a layer of velvet fluorescence, lighting up a secluded place of meditation. .

Two bone-white curved arcs separated the left and right, and the light within the framed area was extinguished. The webway gate is temporarily closed.

"This is the place where the world singer and the soul of the world sing." Curze introduced, inviting Vulkan to sit down with him on an obsidian boulder. "Reminds me of some dreams. I walked through tombs, walked through tunnels, and saw my descendants in the auditorium listening to my lies."

He shook his head, leaned over, and his clean black hair fell down.

Curze said to Vulkan as he washed his dirty hands in the pond, "I saw you kill an Eldar."

"I will indeed do this... For the empire's expedition, I must destroy a planet that believes in alien races." Vulkan maintained his voice and frowned. "They're going to be the victims. You changed the fate of this planet, brother."

"That's not what it is." Cozz shook his hand and couldn't find a clean cloth to dry it with, so he temporarily put his hand in the air on his lap. "In Haratan, twelve Eldar were worshiped as gods; during the capture, a riot broke out, and in anger, you burned eleven of them to death with a flamethrower."

"There's another one?" Vulcan asked doubtfully.

Curze looked at his wet palms.

"A little Ada girl," he said. "The deflection field saved her life. She put her hands up in surrender, and you burned her anyway."

"A little girl?" Vulkan repeated, speechless. He...can't say he really doesn't care. "Then what?"

"I laughed at you. I said we were all cold-blooded killers." He paused for a moment, listening to the sound of running water, and then continued: "But you are not, Vulkan."

"Do you really think so?" Vulkan was surprised by Coz's comment. "I……"

He was stunned, listening to the sound of water falling into the deep pool drop by drop, and his brows gradually relaxed.

"I will do it." Vulcan said solemnly.

"What?" Cozz asked with interest.

"Keep your conscience," Vulkan declared. It won't be easy, and it might even be stupid, but he will get it done.

Coates didn't answer.

"In my dream, I saw three tombstones. The first one belonged to Nostramo," he said.

"Your home planet?" Vulkan was a little nervous, "What happened to it?"

"Destroyed by a mentally broken madman. I will try my best to ensure that this matter does not exist in the world, but if that madman shows up, you will be the most likely to take his life. After all... the darkness is never really far away."

"Don't be so sad," Vulkan hugged him, his movements were very gentle and he controlled his strength.

He later found his hands dirty from the fight and hadn't had time to wash them off, but Curze returned the hug with the gentlest acquiescence he could offer.

"The second tombstone belongs to a great angel." Coz laughed suddenly, "What is the difference between us? It's just that we all died by fate."

Vulkan looked at Coze with concern, and the latter shrugged, "No, nothing. I was just thinking about where my next stop will be."

He thought about it and said: "If... there is still some accuracy in the prophecy... This is the year 843. I can go back to Terra once, and then I can go to a planet."

"Baal's Satellite 2, how does it sound?" Kurtz grinned.

"I don't know where that is, brother. But it sounds good," Vulcan encouraged.

"Change," Coze said, his smile turning pure. “I’m curious to see how this will change.”

"Where's the third tombstone?" Mortal Face said. He suddenly appeared in front of the two Primarchs, dressed in coarse cloth and with a comfortable posture.

"A chair." Coz looked at Faas levelly, "That's a chair."

"How creative. Who owns the chair?" asked Face.

"That's a mortal," Cozz's smile faded, and he saw a larger shadow from Faas.

He felt that his next words would be difficult, and a pressure suppressed the trembling of his vocal cords.

His voice trembled, and he stared at His face that seemed to be shedding blood and tears, and finished the prophecy that he did not want to state but had to say: "A father has just killed his son with a stone."

Fasi closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them. He smiled brightly.

"Thank you," He said. "Well, bye Terra."

　Note 1: The penalty standard comes from the running group book;

　　Note 2: Killing an Eldar girl, the incident comes from Chapter of "Vulkan Lives";

　　Note 3: The prophecy about the Emperor comes from Book 17 of "The End and the Death", Part , Section .

　　

　

(End of this chapter)