40k: Midnight Blade.

Chapter 525 43. Record of the Warband Era (6, Wolves on Fenris, k)

The poet stood up slowly.

The flame ignited in the middle of the forest illuminated the side of his face, and his shriveled eyelids were clearly visible. He is tall but also very thin. He is wearing a thick cotton coat and a plush felt hat, looking like an old man.

But if you look closely, you will find that he is not old at all, and his face can even be considered young. But the old-fashioned feeling truly spread from the depths of his bones, making his whole person feel sluggish.

"What are you looking at, blind man?" asked a warrior by the fire.

His dark red hair was unkempt and lay in a messy mess on the back of his head, resembling sideburns. Not to mention the beard, which is almost always knotted on the chin and face. 'Treasures' such as food scraps and drinks are hidden inside.

Opposite to this honor is his armor. Although the power armor cannot be said to be as bright as new, it has also been carefully cared for. The fur cloak and tooth ornaments were hung at just the right place, adding a bit of dignity to its owner even though he was lying facelessly on the ground.

"You should know that you can't see, right?" The soldier grinned and asked in a very frivolous tone.

His behavior attracted a cold stare from the other person next to the fire. He stood up slowly, his hand even placed on a knife at his waist.

"Oh"

"As you wish, Ragnar. But I have to tell you one thing, Lucas is not only a warrior, but also a very fierce warrior. The fact that he has been with me for a long time does not mean that he is unqualified. In fact, it is quite the opposite. It is because I have too much to teach him that he has stayed so long."

The blind man's answer made Ragna a little unbelievable. He smelled the scent in the forest and spoke in a low voice.

He finally turned around, his profile shining in the moonlight, but the firelight had long been extinguished in the cold wind.

"Who told you this?" the blind poet asked without looking back.

"What's going on, blind man?" Lucas asked softly, bringing up an old proverb. "What's at work in the darkness?"

The blind man did not answer, but made a gesture on his chest. So the red-haired libertine immediately stopped joking. He returned to seriousness, turned around and left with an ax and a pistol in hand, but still did not forget to howl under the moonlight night.

Ragnar watched him go away and let out a cold snort. He stepped to keep up with the blind man who was lame but still walking fast, and asked another question at the same time.

Of course, this was the main reason. In addition, there was a secondary reason, which was a huge depression that appeared in front of them.

In a flash of cold light, a sharp knife was pressed against the red-haired warrior's throat. The young Thunderfist Bloodclaw roared at the red-haired warrior with a furious face, his voice becoming more and more manic in the cold wind.

Ragnar groaned silently, as if someone had punched him in the face and broken the bridge of his nose, which seemed extremely painful. His face was twitching, obviously not expecting such an answer.

He was still looking at the sky, with flames beating on his body, but his whole expression had become very worried for some reason.

".I won't tell on you."

The sky filled with auroras was changing endlessly, but the two meteors were extremely conspicuous, like disaster stars tearing apart the sky, falling straight towards the other end of Fenris.

"Trust me," he said lowly. "No one wants to die in shame and anger."

The red-haired warrior raised half an eyebrow, winked and stood up from the ground, but did not draw his sword. Instead, he walked to his companion and patted him on the shoulder.

"The satellite fell? Or was the ship shot down?"

The snow ground sank as a result, and the forest floor that had long been frozen into ice bricks actually made a slight cracking sound at this moment. The two young wild wolves looked at each other, picked up their weapons in unison, and walked to the blind man.

"Why me?" Lucas asked.

"But he. He has been with you for fourteen years, poet. He has no talent at all to be a warrior."

"I know my mistakes and will correct them!"

The next second, he quickly turned around, picked up a long wooden stick from the fire, and limped to the other side of the fire with it, lifting a huge and heavy stick from the ground. backpack and put it on his back.

"I do not have."

He leaned closer to Ragnar Thunderfist, blinked at the latter's coldness, and did not forget to lower his voice: "Also, you should know that he is not a wolf, right?"

But the poet's words did not end there. He went on to say: "Don't envy him, you are the same. Your wolf master handed you over to me because he has high expectations for you. Don't let him down, otherwise You will surely die a shameful death."

"It's your mother." 'Blind Man' yelled back rudely. "You call me blind one more time and I'll let you crawl back to your lair, Lucas."

Next, the whole journey was silent. They walked out of the woodland and stepped onto the snowfield. Dangerous beasts and ferocious apex predators watched them leave with eager eyes, but rarely launched an attack, as if they were also absorbed by the two meteors streaking across the sky.

The red-haired warrior, contrary to his previous frivolous attitude, raised his hands in a very serious manner, with no smile on his face anymore.

"You insulted Lone Wolf!"

Such a terrifying natural force, but the poet walked leisurely. His wooden staff can always penetrate into the rock-solid snow smoothly, and his own pace always maintains a strange balance that is about to fall but is stable.

"Put down the sword, Ragnar," said the blind man.

"Why do we have to bring him with us, poet? He's just a born bastard."

The wind and snow became more intense, and even the young wild wolf began to feel a little ridiculous - it was not that he had never experienced a snowstorm, but how could it be of this level?

"Why are you trying so hard to flatter him, Ragnar Thunderfist?"

At this moment, the snowflakes had turned into blades, cutting his cheek cruelly, and the blood was frozen into ice slag, falling on the armor with a crunching sound. The wind was so strong that he had to use his sword deep into the snow to stabilize the shaking while walking, otherwise he would be blown down or even blown away.

"Will this talkative blind man do you any good? Everyone knows that he doesn't do anything serious every day. He just writes books and tells stories endlessly. But none of these stories are true, only Bjorn. The leader is willing to treat him as a brother."

Lei Quan didn't answer, so he started chattering.

"None of them." The blind man said simply. "Ragnar, come with me, we have to get on the road. Lucas, run back to the lair and tell Bjorn and the alpha wolf that we have a visitor, a distinguished guest."

"I would never do such a thing. I am a clown and a fool, but I am definitely not an ignorant and disrespectful person, Thunder Fist."

Ragnar Thunderfist gave two other guesses. A long sword engraved with Fenris's evil talismans in his hand was reflecting the extremely cold night light.

Ragnar stared at his boots and couldn't help but wonder what kind of warrior the blind man was before he was disabled. After a few minutes, his random thoughts came to an end because the blind man stopped.

"Lucas does have some cynical qualities, but that doesn't mean he's not one of you, Ragnar. He's also a wild wolf, and he's very qualified."

The snow crackled as it was burned by invisible flames. It had not changed over time, and its hardness was comparable to that of ceramic steel. The ice bricks, which could withstand frontal blast bombs, all turned into ice water.

Two desperate ice elk were licking the melted snow next to the hole. When they saw them coming, they did not choose to run away, which was extremely contrary to common sense.

Ragnar tightened his grip on his sword and stood nervously in front of the blind man.

"Back off." The blind poet scolded him coldly. "You can't even tell where the enemy is, why are you standing in front of me with a sword in your hand like an idiot?"

Ragna was stunned for a moment, his nose twitched twice, and then he suddenly turned back, piercing the snow with the sharp sword in his hand, and accurately hit an outstretched palm.

Two dark red lights suddenly lit up in the wind and snow, one was thousands of times colder than them, and the voice as if from Mokai himself rang in Ragnar's ears.

"This wolf of yours still needs polishing, Lord Ahriman."

"No one deserves polishing."

Azek Ahriman, the Space Wolves Bard also known as the Blind One or the Blind Bard, answered calmly.

Then, he stretched out his long staff and patted the sword that Ragnar was still holding tightly.

"Can you let him go?" he asked. "You also know that wolves are always reckless and wild. They are very different from you, respected soul hunters."

As the words fell, the huge power that always came from the tip of Ragna's sword finally disappeared at this moment. The young Bloodclaw immediately suppressed the manic impulse in his bones, sheathed his sword, and stood behind Ahriman.

He stared at the giant who was gradually emerging from the wind and snow without saying a word, his heart filled with shock. He is sharp, as all wolves are sharp. However, he didn't notice this person approaching him at all just now.

This means that if he had been hostile, he might have died many times.

I can die, but nothing can happen to a blind person. Ragnar thought angrily. To do otherwise would be to fail the blood of Russ and to fail Bjorn.
"Why scold me?" the hunter replied, his body covered with scriptures beating against his armor in the wind and snow, but there was no sign of leaving.

"I took action temporarily for a reason. I had no ill intentions towards him. In fact, I was protecting him, Lord Ahriman. If it hadn't been for me, he might have been seriously injured."

What's the meaning? Ragna frowned, but suddenly felt a sense of disharmony.

He looked around and realized where this disharmony came from - the wind and snow around him had stopped for some reason. And they don't stop, they stay in place as if time has stood still.

At this moment, even the wind has its own shape, and the ice edges blown away are the direction they are about to go.
The young Bloodclaw twitched his nostrils anxiously and smelled an extremely strong smell of blood coming from behind him, but he could not turn his head, and he could not even move his eyes.

He stared closely at the ice edges that were about to fly away, and through the reflection of the aurora shining on them, he saw a pair of dark eyes stuck in the white bones. Its owner is wearing a black robe and is definitely a tall skeleton among ordinary people. It was staring at him, unblinking.

Ragnar didn't know what to do, and his mind was frozen. At the critical moment, a force from his right shoulder knocked him to the ground.

Bloodclaw fell heavily to the ground, and happened to see the blind man's retracted hand, filled with astonishment. Before he could say anything, he saw the blind man who had been telling stories to the wolves for ten thousand years bow his head deeply.

"Thousand Sons, Azek Ahriman, scion of the Crimson King Magnus salutes you, Great Darkness."

".It doesn't have to be this way."

The skeleton known as the Great Dark took a long time to give his answer, and his voice was hoarse like a ghost in the dark night.

Bloodclaw tightened his grip on his sword, never more eager for the apotropaic charm to work.

A force came from his shoulder and pulled him up. After that, the Astartes known as the hunter gently stretched out his right hand, hugged him, and then patted his cheek. .

A chill came from his gauntlet, almost freezing Ragna to death, but it also completely awakened his mind.

He bared his teeth and glared at the man. The hunter returned his calm gaze and nodded slightly to him.

"You will be honored by this," he said. "Although you don't know who you are standing next to yet."

"Who? You? A hidden villain?" Ragnar laughed angrily, so provocative. "I don't think you would bring me any glory even if I slit your neck."

The hunter chuckled under his helmet, let go of his hand, and sent Ragnar to Ahriman.

At the same time, dazzling searchlights came from the sky, and a fighter plane suddenly broke through the stagnant snow and appeared in front of them.

The face of red-haired Lucas loomed behind the wide-open cabin door, but Ragna paid no attention to him. His attention has been completely attracted by a strong figure standing in front of the cabin.

The man was wearing a heavy cloak, with all his power armor buried under it. He had white hair, and an animal fang pendant jingled in the beard. His eyes contained some kind of Ragnar's fundamental understanding. Strong emotions that I don’t understand.

He jumped off the fighter plane, fell vertically from a height of more than ten meters, stirred up a puddle of deep snow, and ran towards here.
-
"Chapter Master!" Orak Cartax roared. "You must come back to continue the ritual!"

"Screw your ritual!" Severita cursed. "I've lost all my old antiques at home, so why are you still doing this ritual? Notify the whole ship to get ready, and ask all chapter leaders to gather at my place! I'll only give them five minutes, no one will wait if they are late!"

He ran wildly, his body wrapped only in a white sheet covered with blood. The light of psychic energy penetrated from under his skin, illuminating the darkness in the corridor.

All the Night Blades watched with astonishment as their chapter leader ran past. Just as they were about to follow him, they were pinned to the spot by the cold command of the head of the think tank.

"The Chapter Master is delirious right now, don't listen to him!"

"You're fucking insane!" Savita turned around and once again shouted insults at the think tank director whom he was very optimistic about. "I think you've lost your mind, Orak! Am I going to lose my mind? I've never been so clear in my life!"

Seconds later, they burst into an office. Savita waved his hand without panting, and a huge amount of psychic energy poured out from the tips of his fingers. He put all the files around him back in place, and even the data pads were stacked and returned to a corner of the room.

Orak stood behind him, his blood-stained hands still shaking slightly, still holding the spell gesture stubbornly, unwilling to interrupt the ceremony.

"This ceremony is very important, Chapter Master!" he shouted anxiously. "If you give up halfway, it will have a great impact on you! This is what the mourning bird himself said!"

"For the sake of Fel Zalost, then let them come over here and do it for me!" Sevita roared angrily. "I'll give you five minutes!"

Without saying a word, Orak was immediately distracted from communicating with the Night No., and darkness surged. The other four think tanks walked out carrying the light of psychic energy, surrounded Savita, and began to smear characters on his body with blood.

While enduring the burning pain caused by these words, the Chapter Master of Night Blade turned his head and roared again at the corridor outside.

"Four minutes left!"

His voice made the Night Veil tremble, and the readings increased again. It is foreseeable that tonight will definitely become a nightmare night for the sailors on the Night Veil.

Two minutes later, Kaiul Sahoura, Scaladric and Sheikh Lenghun all arrived, all fully armed.

Especially the Lord of the Crimson Claw. He has a murderous look on his face and holds two giant axes in his hands. He looks like he wants to tear someone or something into pieces in the next second.

"The instructor ran away," Savita said simply. "And the hunter is among them. It's obvious that this mystical bastard has done something without telling us. I don't blame him, but I have to blame myself!"

He took a deep breath and spoke again.

"The matter has come to this, there is nothing more to say. I know the instructor's character well. He will only go alone like this when he decides to do something dangerous."

"If the notice continues, I want every child of the night to be ready for a full-scale war. I don't know what the instructor is going to do, but we will follow him, understand? What we failed to accomplish ten thousand years ago, It will never happen again in ten thousand years! In the name of Konrad Coze, we will fight to the death!"

No one answered, only three faces with different expressions, but all extremely serious.

Savita's orders began to be transmitted layer by layer among the ship's broadcasts. This fleet, which can be considered a medium-sized fleet at 30K, immediately became filled with a chilling atmosphere, although most of the ships were controlled by the Blade of Judgment. brought, but they are also children of the night.

The existence of gloomy Gothic buildings and churches makes the battleship look like Nostramo floating in space. The anger of the black-eyed people is about to sweep the entire galaxy.
Until a voice came from the door of the room. It was a mortal voice, and it even seemed a little out of breath.

"Uh" Tujia, the aggressor, took a deep breath and pulled off his cloak. "This, Lalhe, said it has something to say to you, Chapter Master of Sevatar."

Savita stared at him for two seconds, strode forward surrounded by think tanks, reached out and grasped Lalhe's silky surface.

It danced immediately, but did not leave Tujaa, or even draw the blood from Sevatar. After a few seconds, Yago Savitarion's expression gradually became weird.

He closed his eyes, took a long breath, then took a deep breath, then let go of his hand, but suddenly grabbed Tujia's shoulder. He controlled his strength so well that he was pulled over without feeling any pain.

"Tell this bastard why he didn't come and tell me earlier?" Savita asked gruffly.

Tujia immediately did as he was told, paraphrasing the words. The cloak started to dance in the next second, looking extremely excited.

"What does it say?" asked Sevatar.

Tujaa was silent for a few seconds before replying: "It says you are an idiot, Chapter Master."

"You tell it, and I'll stuff it into the Fenrisian people's stinking ditches!"

The aggrieved person coughed twice and did as he was told again. This time, the cloak stood up furiously, completely wrapping him from behind, forming a pair of ferocious armor, which actually looked very similar to the suit someone wore ten thousand years ago.

Sevita sneered and pushed Tujia into the corridor with his backhand.

"It is your misfortune to have it spread out, avenger!" he shouted. "You'll see how annoying this guy really is! Goodbye!"

Darkness surged up, completely enveloping Tujia and Lalhe, whose faces were full of shock and confusion, and sent them to the other end of the Night Vessel. At this moment, Yago Savitarion couldn't help laughing loudly.

"Chapter Commander, are you really insane?" the think tank director asked worriedly.

"No," said Sevita. "I just remembered some really interesting things that were generally good."

He turned around and said to the three chapter leaders: "Clear the combat readiness alert, then mobilize the elite men, put on Terminator armor, take the company flag, and assemble on the boarding deck of the Nightfall. We have to go and fight with space. The wild wolves meet."

The three of them looked at each other.

Sevatar sighed, covered his face, and fell down on the chair he had been sitting on for ten thousand years.

"Farce," he said in Nostramo.

Five seconds later, someone chuckled in the darkness.

"Sai, this is not a farce. Although I understand your tiredness, from now on, those who really know him will know that Khalil Lohars is back. Isn't this very memorable? ?”

Sevatar suddenly raised his head and found that the office, Chapter Master and his think tanks had completely disappeared, leaving only pure darkness and the King of the Night standing in front of him.

".No, I don't see any commemorative significance."

Conrad Coates smiled slightly and answered softly.

"Yeah, I can't see it either, but he is always moving in a good direction, and that's enough. You haven't seen Khalil Lohars out of control, but, believe me, there is no such thing in the world. There will be another person who is more cruel than he was at that time. Revenge never makes sense."

"Isn't he out of control now?" Savita asked sincerely. "Are you serious, Father?"

"No," said the Night King. "He's even considered very sensible."

The darkness dissipated, and Sevatar narrowed his eyes in silence, and suddenly said to his think tank director: "Do you want to hear a joke?"

He got a worried sigh.

(End of this chapter)