40k: Midnight Blade.

Chapter 589 107. Dark Expedition (, )

Gazing at the silver tower far away in the sky, Sevatar took a deep breath calmly.

The air was trembling, and the power of the silver tower was pouring out from the layers of stacked structures without reservation. They were running excitedly, like children who had finally broken free and were away from the playground built by their parents for the first time.
They have great enthusiasm for this new land, and before this enthusiasm fades, they will try their best to explore every corner of this place.

Of course, this statement is not so accurate for chaos.

The real situation is that the power spreading from the Silver Tower will completely change the world until they think that this world is "suitable", and then this cruel change will end briefly.

After a few seconds, Sevatar interrupted his thoughts and withdrew his observation.

He always had a gloomy expression, like an everlasting mist, always hanging on his face. It soaked his facial features, making his already unfriendly appearance even colder.
But now, the mist had changed, becoming a cold wind, turning his face into a piece of solid ice that sank deep into the ocean of a cold land.

Sheher Lenghun was no stranger to this expression. In the past, he often had to deal with his eldest son for some "work" reasons.

In the secular family, if the elders leave, then the eldest brother and sister will be the head of the family. This is still true in the Night's Children. After the departure of the Primarch, Yago Sevitarion is the head of the family.

It was difficult for Sheher to avoid meeting him, and many matters within the Inquisition had to go through him and be handed over to Sevatar. Therefore, he fully understood what Sevatar wanted to do next.

He did not object, at least not explicitly.

"If you plan to act alone, I won't stop you." Sheher told him seriously. "But I have to say that this is probably not the best option. We can go to that city first via Thunderhawk. The civilians there need to be dealt with."

He wanted to use a word that was more to his liking, such as sorting, cleansing, purifying, etc., but considering that there was a secular lord next to them who thought he was Robouti Guilliman, he changed the wording slightly.

Of course, Sheher knew that the word "disposal" was still very ruthless, like the scum in a hive city was dividing the civilians into different levels, but that was the fact. The people in Naros City had to be inspected and classified, and only those who passed could continue to enjoy the right to live.

His words made Sevatar glance at him.

Amid the flickering silver light and the gradually surging storm, the Eldest Son of the Night spoke slowly. His figure seemed insignificant under these horrific and psychedelic scenes, but his voice still reached Sheher's ears clearly.

Only this time, he sounded completely different from the past, and the tone he used was very gentle.

"Long ago, Coldsoul, before I became Chapter Master, we had an exclusive right."

Sheher listened to him attentively, but Sevatar gave him a habitually sarcastic smile.

"We are the Emperor's Legion, the descendants of the Primarch. We ride powerful warships that can cross the starry seas to go to human gathering places one after another, and then conquer them according to local conditions. In other words, our exclusive power is to kill at will, burn palaces and destroy worlds legally and reasonably."

He blinked, took a step back in an exaggerated manner, bent down and bowed. When he stood up again, his face was back to normal.

"Some planets welcome us, others do not. For the latter, our methods are quite harsh. Today, such things would be very painful for those of us with higher moral standards. For example, the sons of Sanguinius, the Weepers."

"I think they would never accept this. I don't blame them because it's human nature. Besides, the old way is outdated."

"Conquest and expansion are no longer our primary duty. In fact, today, most Astartes even consider themselves protectors, the death angels of the God-Emperor. We passively assimilated into religion, accepted its influence, and became one of many gods worshipped by others."

Sheher agreed with him with a slight nod, looking serious.

"For many of our cousins, they don't think there's anything wrong with this. That's the power of religion. Even superhumans who have undergone transformation surgery and arduous training can be affected by it."

“But this can also be a good thing.”

"During the Great Crusade, we hated religion, and the Imperial Truth pointed out its harms in detail. I have to tell you, Cold Soul, although the Imperial Truth is a white lie, when you burst it, you will find that there is still something worth believing in that bubble."

"My experience during the Great Crusade taught me that the Imperial Truth is right. Religion only hinders human progress and turns enlightened people into insane people who walk around with torches in their hands, yelling that they will burn any dissenters to death, even if that person is their mother."

"And now, we have to pick up religion again and turn it into a solid shield full of ignorance. It will cause many people to be persecuted and become victims of religion."

"But it can also benefit more people, allowing children to sleep peacefully at night without having to worry about the sneaky things lurking in the dark. They believe that the God-Emperor will drive away monsters for them in the dark."

"From this point of view, the harm of the state religion is insignificant compared to what it can bring to the empire. But what about those who died because of it? Are we just going to turn our backs, cover our ears, close our eyes, and pretend that their wailing and bloody arms don't exist?"

He grinned, his fangs gleaming. Sheher still had no idea what he was trying to say, but he was still listening very carefully. It wasn't often that Yago Sevitarion was willing to talk at length like this.
Unfortunately, he was unable to maintain his concentration. When Sevatar suddenly approached him, Sheher's expression suddenly became somewhat embarrassed.

Sevatar came close to him, seemingly casually hooked his shoulder, whispered to him, but still looked at the sky thoughtfully.

"Sadly, many of us do think this way. Some choose not to see it, while others choose to forget it and turn a blind eye. Which one do you want to be, Sheher?"

His question shocked the Supreme Grand Master.

"I--"

"——I know you are not." Sevatar sighed and stopped his rebuttal. "But."

He said nothing more, just looked at Sheher meaningfully, then patted him on the shoulder and disappeared without any warning.

A few seconds later, a terrifying weapon tore through the pile of orc corpses, flew out, and flew into the sky amidst the splashing blood. Sheher raised his head, looked at the direction it left, and took a deep, deep breath.
-
After that conversation, Sevatar found that he was getting more and more used to recalling the past. He liked to recall the past, but he didn't like it very much.

Habits are terrible things. Just like Sheher Coldsoul, as the Chapter Master of the Blades of Judgment and the most important bridge between the Inquisition and the Children of the Night, he inevitably got used to categorizing people.

Distinctions such as gender, age, and so on have completely disappeared in his eyes, leaving only the simple question of whether something is polluted or not. At first glance, it seems that there is no problem, it is just enforcing the law impartially, but the collapse of a fortress often starts with the loosening of a brick or stone.

Sevatar tightly gripped his chainsaw halberd and rushed towards the silver tower again. Yes, he changed his mind, and although it sounded a bit capricious, he had to go.

The wind howled in his ears, almost confusingly, and Sevatar flew indifferently, leaving behind all the illusions he saw along the way, hidden in the clouds.

The power of the Silver Tower always followed, as if it had its own will. And this was indeed the case. A voice quietly reached his ears.

"You are the first person to recognize me, Yago Sevitarion."

Sevatar curled his lips in disgust, revealing a half-smile. The Silver Tower was winding and undulating in front of him and under his feet. It stretched for tens of thousands of miles, a peak among peaks, and it was still rising.

The landscape of this planet is changing. Things like glass or light crystal are continuously emerging from under the soil and stones. Like monsters that have existed since ancient times, they have been waiting for a long time and are finally reviving at this moment, and there is no sign of stopping.

How huge is this silver tower?
A bad guess slowly emerged in Sevatar's mind. At the same time, the voice that seemed to know him came again.

It is rootless water. It does not exist in the rational world and does not need any foundation. It simply exists, but it can easily let Sevatar hear its voice.

"You want to enter my prison?"

囚牢
Sevatar narrowed his eyes and still did not answer, but quickly crossed the horizon. The storm was still there, but it did not stop him. Instead, it gave him more strength to move forward. Sevatar quickly and flexibly landed on one of the billions of shining bridges on the surface of the silver tower.

To be honest, the feeling of stepping on it was not good, because he did not feel any feedback at all, as if he was still suspended in the air.

A castle in the air, isn't it?
Sevatar began to run, his weapon roaring excitedly in his right hand, the rough bones stuck in the spaces reserved for blood vessels and spinning wildly, a terrible smell of blood naturally emanating.

Sevatar tried his best not to feel its emotions, raised his left hand, and gently pressed it in the center of a shining silver door.

The bound kind souls attacked him with screams, but Sevatar endured it silently, choosing to accept the price he had to pay.

A few seconds later, there was a clear sound like glass breaking, bringing a terrible echo, and the door suddenly shattered. Sevatar ignored it and strode in.

In a strong sense of weightlessness, the world before his eyes became pitch black. Until the feeling of weightlessness dissipated, some stars suddenly lit up in the darkness, revealing a luxurious scene made of gold, silver and crystal.

There are eighty-one flashing chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, and the crystals constantly refract the light, bringing an even stronger sense of confusion.

Long tables made of gold were placed one after another in this long and narrow room, and silver chairs and tableware were dotted among them just right, setting off the elegant postures of the faceless portraits in gorgeous costumes on the walls.

Sevatar sighed in annoyance, he clenched his left fist, a blue light flashed, and a force surged out from the void and began to manipulate gravity.

The long tables flew up and collided with each other, twisting and crumpling the chairs along with them, and creaking into pieces. Eighty-one long tables and seven hundred and twenty-nine chairs completely disappeared, thrown into the highest heaven by Sevatar.

At this moment, inside the empty banquet hall, the eighty-one crystal chandeliers were still flickering, and the candles nailed to the edge were burning weakly, resisting a breeze that came from nowhere.

Sevatar walked over the red carpet with an expressionless face, leaving the faceless portraits behind. Every time he passed a portrait, a bloodshot eye would suddenly appear on the face without any facial features, trembling rapidly and closely following the direction he left.
He knew this very well, but he really didn't bother to care. No one could tell what exactly happened in Tzeentch's Silver Tower, not even the wizards who believed in him could tell it clearly.

Those fools just throw in some specious statements in their usual riddles and hope they’ll stumble upon a few commonalities.

From this point of view, they are no different from the charlatans in the streets, they just use probability theory to cheat people.
Sevasta chuckled and walked to the end of the red carpet, where there was a wide red chair with its back to him. The gold edges of the armrests were elegant and the lines of the back were graceful like a lady in a long dress, looking quite seductive.

Sevatar swung his right hand and dismembered it with his halberd.

Splinters of wood flew everywhere, a shrill whistling sound came from inside the chair, the chandelier suddenly began to shake, and the candle suddenly went out.

The people in the portraits, who were dressed in luxurious clothes, began to run one after another, leaving the frames they were originally in, breaking free from the paper covered in blood, and appearing in the empty banquet hall.

They screamed and rushed towards Sevatar. A terrifying mouth opened on their pale faces, with densely packed, rotating sharp teeth spinning at a high speed inside.

At the same time, a melodious music suddenly sounded, and under the faint light cast by the few remaining chandeliers that were still lit, Sevatar smiled.

"Unfortunately, I'm not very good at dancing." He shrugged and immediately turned around, smashed the wall, and rushed into a new space.

He looked back, but he no longer saw the banquet hall. The walls were intact, as if they had never been damaged.

He was now in a quiet tavern with wooden floors, a wooden bar, and closed windows and doors. Tables, chairs, and benches were piled in the corner, and the floor was wet, obviously having just been cleaned.

A dark-skinned man was standing behind the bar, concentrating on cleaning the wine glasses. He didn't care about Sevasta's arrival at all, but continued to wipe the thick wooden wine glasses with a small piece of white cloth.

Sevatar threw down his halberd and drove it deeply into the ground. Then he stepped hard, stepping one step at a time to the front of the bar. He stretched out his right hand, knocked on the bar with his fist, and spoke softly amid the flying wood chips.

"Anything to drink?"

Without even looking up, the bartender said, “No.”

"Isn't this a pub?"

"Yes."

"Then give me something to drink." Sevatar said with a wry smile. "How about a glass of water?"

The bartender shook his head again: "It's not time for our store to open yet. Besides, we don't welcome people like you to come and drink and have fun."

"why?"

"Because our store doesn't--"

Sevatar smiled sincerely for the first time in a long time, and grabbed the bartender from behind the bar by the collar. He fell to the ground in embarrassment, and his originally neat light blue uniform was stained, but he still climbed up quickly from the ground without changing his expression.

"We don't welcome people like you." He repeated. "We hope you leave quickly and don't cause any trouble."

"Okay." Sevatar nodded readily, grabbed his neck, and began to pour his spiritual energy into it.

He smiled and said, "As long as you answer a few questions for me, I'll leave right away, how about that?"

The bartender was silent for a few seconds, a dangerous white glow surged under his skin, and he had to nod with difficulty. Sevatar put him down affectionately and patted his shoulder: "Thank you for your cooperation, then, the first question is, how do I get to the top of the tower?"

".You have to confirm where you are first." The bartender coughed and replied. There was no fear on his face, only a sense of annoyance that came from nowhere. "If you don't know where you are, you can't reach the top of the tower."

"why?"

"Because this Silver Tower is always changing. Don't you know this? How did you get in? Anyone who pursues the Silver Tower--"

The bartender suddenly stopped talking, and finally looked up at Sevasta. Then his expression changed rapidly.

"--What's wrong?" Sevastata stared at him and asked softly.

"You can ask a few more questions." The bartender said with difficulty. "Actually, any number is fine."

"I don't think that's necessary," said Sevatar.

He reached out and summoned the chainsaw halberd, and the bartender's form suddenly began to change.

The transformation began from the human body, the eyes were squeezed out of the eye sockets, the skin turned into some kind of ugly colloid, the chin was split, and more than a dozen pairs of eyes connected to nerves protruded from it, and the black tongue was placed between the teeth, one after another, like dominoes.
He completed this amazing transformation, but turned and ran without hesitation, and Sevatar swung his arms unsurprisingly, completely dismembering him.

The steaming pieces of meat and bones fell to the ground, still intimately entangled with each other, with such emotion that it was really tear-jerking.

Sevatar twitched the corner of his mouth, then returned to his expressionless face. He raised his foot and rolled over the pool of flesh and blood, then kicked the bar to pieces.

He was beginning to get a little annoyed; this kind of thing would always happen when dealing with Tzeentch. But he had to take the risk; the eye at the top of the spire deprived him of the power to choose another direction.

Painful as this incident was, Sevatar was no longer at the age where he would feel angry about the loss of his dignity.

What's more, at this time, anger is of little use.

Sevatar walked into the bar, smashed the wall with his fist, and then walked back in. A sudden force hit Sevatar's armor neck guard, almost cutting that area in half.

It still exists, but it can no longer move forward. It is stuck in Sevatar's left hand. The First Son of the Night looks at the gleaming whip coldly, and suddenly pulls it towards him with force.

An arm holding a whip rolled to the ground shortly after, blood gushing out, creating a terrifying effect under the flickering candlelight.

A hoarse scream sounded here, and Sevatar glanced at the fool who brought it upon himself, only to find that it was actually an Eldar.

Interesting, but just interesting.

Sevatar walked over it, and as he walked over it, its body began to break apart piece by piece until it turned into a pool of flesh.

Over the next fifteen minutes—if time still existed here—Sevatar fought his way through hundreds of rooms, nothing stopping him, even for a moment.

He crushed the giant chess puzzle, chopped the old woman who tried to buy water from him and ask for directions into thirteen pieces with his halberd, and then burned the swarm of insects that emerged from her corpse.

He set a plain village ablaze, searing the sky with flames, slaying children and parents alike, then pursued them into their cellars and crushed the village chief and the idol of Tzeentch under his feet.

Sometimes he was in a forest or a plain or even a city, and other times he was in a completely empty place with only him and a thing that kept talking and denouncing him for his sins.

Sevatar still remembered what that thing said: "Yago Sevatarion! How many people did you give up that you could have saved?!"

"None of your business?" Sevatar said.

He used his psychic powers to capture the voice, but instead of killing it, he crushed it into a screaming gelatinous mass and stuffed it into his belt.

Now, wherever he went, he could hear screams and condemnations that sounded like crying.

"You should have saved them, but you didn't. Your arrogance ruined everything." The demon in the belt cried.

Sevatar smiled with satisfaction - now, this condemnation sounded more reasonable.

Yes, he could not be stopped, but there was one thing that still stood before him, and like himself, it was preceded by the word "unable".
He couldn't find his way to the top. The bartender was probably right, if he didn't know where he was, then he couldn't get to the top.

In this way, what he wants to do is likely to be delayed.

"It's not a possibility, it's a certainty." In a foggy room, a voice gently reminded him.

Everything here was shining silver, except for one place, which was the deepest part of the fog. There were two eyes shining yellow, like two lanterns. Sevatar stared at this existence gloomily, his eyes like a butcher's knife sweeping over every detail of it hidden in the steam, its huge body, its knotted muscles, its huge claws.
However, as he was watching, the thing shrank rapidly, and finally even took the shape of a human, with a pale face, short hair, and stubble.

"You can't get to the top of the tower, Sevatar." The thing said with a smile. "Unless you give up everything, but if you do that, I will be free."

Sevatar looked at it coldly and shook his head slowly: "The moment you escape, Cassidorius Delkunas will kill you."

"Can he?" the monster asked in surprise. "Do you really think he can? He is just a messenger, an ordinary person who was chosen by luck and then suffered endless suffering."

"He has already fallen into a peaceful sleep. Do you want to wake him up from death and make him go through this pain again? That's really cruel."

He is more than a messenger. Sevatar wanted to say this, but he didn't. He just walked straight towards the monster with the face of Cassidorius Delcunas and waved his hand to disperse its image.

Like mist, it dissipated where it lay, leaving behind only a light laugh and a word that was clearly veiled with malice.

"We'll see each other later, Sevatar. Maybe in a few hundred years, maybe in a few thousand years, maybe in tens of thousands of years, it doesn't matter."

"During this period, you can try as much as you want. The Silver Tower itself will not be destroyed by your violence. There is a reason why I voluntarily accepted imprisonment here at the cost of my own freedom. The Lord of Change has given me the strongest fortress in the world."

"And you, what can you do? It will only take a hundred years for your brothers to mark you as missing. After another two hundred years, your name will no longer be mentioned by anyone. You will be forgotten in the depths of time, just like me."

Sevatar continued to move forward indifferently, and the sounds of screaming, crying, and condemning vibrated from his belt.

"Liar! Liar!" the thing cried. "Why didn't you save us?!"
-
Kayul pulled his sword from the jaw of a mutant - well, to be more precise, he didn't pull it out, but he pried the blade savagely, splitting the entire head from bottom to top, freeing the sword itself.

Then he threw his cloak behind him and disappeared like a ghost, causing his enemies to scream.

The communication between them is so ridiculous. The distinction between monosyllables and polysyllables does not exist in the language system of these creatures. There are only alternating sticky sounds and various meaningless calls.

Kaiul was not interested in exploring the mutant language at this time. He was not a scholar, and it was completely impossible for him to do such a thing. He stood in the darkness, quietly waiting for the opportunity to launch a surprise attack.
And he was not alone, there were thirteen Shadow Knights in Terminator uniforms waiting here with him. No one talked, only nods, reflections in eyepieces, and some slight gestures.

Kaiul liked it this way. For him, staying in the dark with his brothers waiting for the hunt was a great comfort.

A few seconds later, he led the charge out of the darkness, and with his brothers, he descended from the sky, completely killing the group of mutants who tried to approach the side of the artillery position.

Before he could catch his breath, a roar came from the communication channel: "Get ready!"

It was Skaladerik, and he recognized the Maharaja's voice immediately, but who was he speaking to?
Kaiul had no answer, but he was certainly prepared. It had become second nature to him.

Two seconds later, he saw a group of rumbling living boulders suddenly rush out from a corner of the battlefield, cross the enemy group, rush to the front of the position, and begin to crush the trenches back and forth, throwing out blue flames.

The Crimson Claws are fighting them, but the results are not very good.

This kind of thing must be killed with fast and concentrated firepower, but attacks like power swords are too large to cause any serious damage to these things. Only Skalardrick and his two huge axes can do this quickly.
At this moment, a sense of humor deep in Kaiul's genes suddenly flashed, causing him to blurt out a word.

"miner."

There was silence on the communication channel for a few seconds, and then, Scaradrick roared again, the sound was frightening. The Shadow Knight's Chapter Master couldn't help but chuckle, but he didn't forget what he should do.

He retreated into the darkness again, across the battlefield, and found his two squads of Destroyers, who quickly dodged and moved back to the front of their position.

A dangerous buzzing sound began to gather at the rear of the battlefield; it was the dangerous sound of an improved model of plasma cannon warming up.

Five seconds later, twelve huge dark blue light balls rushed towards the huge rocks at a rapid speed, vaporizing and dissolving their huge bodies in just a moment.
The Scarlet Claws immediately swarmed over, using various methods to completely destroy the exposed core parts. Kaiul could swear to Conrad Curze that he even saw one person using a head hammer to do this job.

He was not too impressed by his brothers' enthusiasm, but Kaiul would not blame anything. If it weren't for the bloody battles of the Scarlet Claws in the past two Terra hours, the war would probably have ended long ago.

They stood at the forefront of the battle with extreme enthusiasm without complaint. It seemed unreasonable, but it saved many people's lives, and they also gave their brothers in the mother group a chance.
Kaiul stepped onto a hill of corpses with his sword in hand and looked carefully into the distance. As expected, he saw the iconic eerie blue of the Midnight Blade and the two giant birds they were chasing behind the enemy group.

Kaiul recognized this creature - the Lord of Change. Apart from this, what other kind of Tzeentch demon could make his eyes hurt just by looking at it?

But, then again, Kaiul did not think that they had no strength to fight back. It is true that one hundred veterans from Nightblade are a terrifying fighting force, especially since they have just launched a surprise attack, but the Lord of Change is not an easy demon to deal with.
They may lack strength in frontal combat, but the many spells these demons possess are enough to turn the situation around.

Be sure to be careful, the Shadow Knight thought silently.

He did not convey this reminder to the Nightblades, he knew his brothers did not need it. When Yago Sevitarion was not leading the team, they always knew the limits.

Kaiul turned around, jumped down from the pile of corpses, and found the Blades of Judgment who had just returned from the western flank.

The lieutenant in charge had no name, he called himself the Sinner. Kaiul was very interested in their internal atonement and other matters, but now was not the time to explore, so he started asking questions directly.

"What is the hunter doing?"

"Summoning." The white-haired sinner replied gloomily.

He was not old, and the white hair was said to be a side effect of a purification ritual. The dry white hair made it hard not to wonder if he had lost part of his lifespan. For a chaos ritual, any sacrifice was possible.

Keul's face suddenly changed at his answer.

"Summon who—no, what?"

The sinner gave a slightly sad smile at his keenness, and he knew what kind of experience this keenness came from.

They all had similar experiences.

The Sinner shook his head and uttered a name in Nostramo: "VanCleef."

At this moment, Keul almost crushed the hilt of his sword. His anger was so sudden and so intense, part of it was due to the hunter, and part of it was due to the actions of the sinner.

He used Nostramo during a summoning ritual in progress, pronouncing the name of the summoned being, which was simply adding to the ritual.

The Shadow Knight took off his helmet and looked at the sinner with a gloomy face.

"Do you identify with him?" Keul asked briefly.

"Yes, Chapter Master," said the Sinner. "You should know what is special about the Hunter's Eye, so when he told me what the silver tower was, I had to agree with him."

His words silenced Kaiul, who was about to make accusations, for a few seconds.

Of course he knew what was special about the hunter's eyes - those eyes came from Talos Valcoran, the original soul hunter, the last 'prophet', a veteran from ten thousand years ago.

Unlike now, during the Legion era, the Night's Sons scoffed at prophecies. This was closely related to the Primarch's personal actions. Talos was a rare and special person, which was not unrelated to his extraordinary prophetic ability.

Konrad Curze even admitted that Talos was like him to some extent. Because of this statement and his own obsession with prophecy, the predecessors of the Legion gave him the slightly sarcastic title of Prophet.

Of course, this has nothing to do with him as a Soul Hunter.
After his death, the eyes were passed down from generation to generation, and to this day, no one knows how many people they have brought the torment of prophetic visions to. However, one thing is certain, it is no longer the same eyes as before.

In addition to prophecy, it has some other functions.

Kaiul took a deep breath and hissed out a name. The sinner smiled gratefully, feeling genuinely happy that he was on his side.

His strange emotion was caught by Kaiul, and the Shadow Knight's natural analytical instinct began to work. Almost in an instant, he knew that the sinner was probably eager for the recognition of others.
Perhaps we all are, Keoul thought sadly.

"So now tell me, brother, where are they?"

The sinner nodded almost in a meek manner, pointing him in a direction. Kaiul nodded to him, raised his cloak, and disappeared again.

In less than half a minute, he had passed through the darkness and arrived at the ceremony site smoothly, but he could not move forward an inch. Pale white ashes were hanging in the air, and a dark and twisted light surrounded an empty space, blurring everything inside.

Kaiul tried to enter, but the lights wouldn't let him, they kept pushing him away.
He understood that if he was not a child of the night, this power would definitely not be so gentle.

But he had to go in, he had something to discuss with the hunter in person.

Amid the continuous chanting, Kaiul used the power sword to cut open his left cheek. The blood flowed down, and he used his right hand to pick up some of it, put his index finger and middle finger together, smeared the blood on the center of his forehead, and then lightly drew it back to the center and continued to flow down.

"I will avenge the innocents here," Keul said solemnly, his voice hissing.

The flames of light suddenly embraced him, and a strong sense of weightlessness followed, forcing Kaiul to clench his fists. The world in front of him turned into simple black and white. The only brothers from the Soul Hunters were the only ones with a third color.

The scarlet words on their armor were so blinding.

Kaiul did not interrupt their chanting, but walked straight to the center of the ceremony and found the hunter. The latter did not seem surprised by his arrival, but his expression was somewhat unhappy.

Kaiul couldn't help being a little surprised - he hadn't expected to see such an expression on the hunter's face.

"This oath you made," the hunter sighed, his voice trembling. "Brother..."

"What's wrong with it?"

The hunter looked at him sadly and whispered: "It will lead you to a place of death."

"Our ultimate fate is death," Keul replied calmly. "I have already made preparations, but since you have predicted my future, I would like to hear the whole story."

The hunter nodded silently, stretched out his hands, and tightly grasped Kaiul's bloody right hand.

"I saw you lying alone in the darkness, with a winding bloody road behind you. Your body was covered with wounds, your armor was shattered, and the sword in your hand had long been broken."

"The monsters in the darkness are waiting for your flesh and blood. Once you die, they will rush over, eat up your spirit, and take away your soul. You will not have the chance to return to the wasteland because you chose to enter the darkness."

"You will leave us, leave everyone, Keul."

His words almost sounded like a curse, Shadow Knight thought. Perhaps all prophecies sounded like they meant something all along.

He smiled, nodded, pulled out his right hand and patted the hunter on the shoulder, then adjusted his expression, as if he had not heard the prophecy at all.

"So, how far along is the ceremony?"

"It's just the final touch." The hunter answered slowly. "Van Cleef never refuses any call. He will respond to any request. However, there are very few worlds that are qualified to host him and become an altar. This place is one of them."

Kaiul gained a brief moment of peace because of his words, and he was no longer anxious. This might be human nature, when the thing you have been worrying about really comes true, the worry will naturally disappear with the wind.

However, the hunter's words still caught his attention.

"Here? What's so special about this place?" He stamped his feet and asked.

The hunter squatted down and grabbed a handful of soil in front of him, but what was revealed underneath was not stone or more soil, but a piece of metal shining with silver.

The complex relief is clearly visible on this small piece of metal. In addition, there are several paintings and mathematical formulas that were left on it for unknown reasons.

If you choose to keep one of them, the metal will be very beautiful, and if you choose to keep both, it will also be a complex enjoyment. But if they are all left here, the metal will look a bit crowded.
Staring at them, Kaiul suddenly felt a headache, blood rushed out of his nose, and wet the neck guard of his armor. He was startled and immediately understood that this was the original intention of the person who made it.

"Everywhere you look—" The hunter stood up, letting the dirt fall through his fingers. "—is part of the silver tower, or in other words, the world. We've fallen into a trap, Kael."

He touched his eye sockets with his other hand thoughtfully, and a flash of extremely obvious anger suddenly appeared in his cloudy eyes.

Kaiul saw it clearly. This was the first time he saw such obvious negative emotions from a hunter. Then he realized that the anger came from the hunter's self-blame.

"A blind prophet and a terrible guide." Talos's descendant smiled solemnly, and his expression returned to silence again. "Anyway, my brother, this is how it is."

Kaiul nodded slowly and began to put all of this together and sort it out again, and soon found a blind spot.

He pointed it out mercilessly: "Why Van Cleef?"

He stared at the hunter and asked.

"If it's just to deal with this tower, we have a better choice. Those war machines sleeping in the wasteland will be happy to stand up again. Don't say you can't hear the furious roars of those Titan machine spirits in their sleep. I admit that Van Cleef is very strong, but is it the wrong person to let him fight against such a world-class giant tower?"

The hunter nodded approvingly. "You are still very perceptive, Knight Commander. But I am not sure if you can get the truth. Some things are secrets even to us. However, now that things have come to this, I don't need to hide it any longer."

"Have you heard of the Delkunas, a family of wandering traders?" he asked softly.

Kaiul began to search his memory, once, twice, three times. Then he shook his head. The hunter smiled without surprise, raised his right hand, and made a gesture. The scripture on the shoulder armor twisted like a living thing, and the characters began to merge with each other. Kaiul took great effort to stop himself from looking at them.

"The last descendant of this family is named Cassidorius," the hunter said slowly. "He is an explorer who can reach Terra, a brave man. However, he will not be born for another two years."

"The Sigillite and his many spies are secretly advancing this matter to ensure that Cassidorius Delkunas can be born smoothly."

"I think you might ask who he is that is worth all the trouble, even just to ensure his birth. But I cannot reveal it, Knight Commander. This matter is of great importance. There is only one thing I can reveal to you."

"Do you remember the eye at the top of that spire?"

The hunter asked this question, paused for a moment, and watched Kaiul's expression gradually become more serious.

"That eye came from a demon," the hunter said simply. "In the future, or in the past—this demon will be born from the death of Cassidorius and the opposite of what he carried."

"It had found the last descendant countless times and tried to drive him crazy and make him lose hope. It failed because Van Cleef always stayed by Cassidorius' side."

The hunter paused for a moment again, but this time, his purpose was not to give Kaiul time to digest.

He turned around, looked at his brothers, raised his right hand and clenched his fist.

Fifty of the ninety-nine men fell to the ground without warning, and the flames completely covered their bodies. The armor melted along with their flesh, turning into boiling blood, which outlined and smeared the grooves that had been dug long ago.

Kaiul took a deep breath, suppressed the emotions in his heart, turned his head away, and refused to look. Unlike him, the hunter stared at the slowly advancing boiling blood until it filled every gully, and then he looked away.

He seemed to be trembling, but his voice remained calm. The hissing Nostramo language sounded like a beast breaking through Pan Li, tearing the air. The magic circle filled with blood immediately lit up, and a dazzling beam of light shot up into the sky, breaking the silence of the ceremony site.

The black and white world returned to normal, but Kaiul discovered at this moment that the size of the silver tower had increased again, and its main tower could even spread from one end of the sky to the other.
The yellow lantern-like animal eyes also became very close to them. It was even close enough for Kaiul to see a huge figure slowly emerging from the beam of light through the reflection on its surface.

He turned his head and looked at the light column. Burning flames and hanging embers swarmed in, rushing into it with increasingly intense chanting, gluing into flesh, armor and pale mane.

Kaiul almost lost the ability to think, and just stared at the beam of light and the shadow in it.
Five seconds later, two spots of scarlet flashed in the middle. A ferocious giant sword wrapped in black lightning swept across, completely shattering the light column, and a demon that was ten meters tall appeared in front of them.

It has a pair of huge spiral horns on its head, and a full head of white mane that makes it look very majestic. It is wearing broken armor, and many trembling charred chains are wrapped around it, binding a set of armor that seems to be about to break. Each line emits a dark red light, and high-temperature steam gushes out of it, turning the ground into boiling magma.

Its eyes were two dim red dots, which reminded Keul of the blood-red setting sun or the last drop of a warrior's blood.
Then he was forced to look it in the eye.

The Shadow Knight suddenly lost the ability to speak, because he found that the demon was actually nodding to him. Then, its fine fangs slowly opened, and a voice as low as possible was passed into his ears.

"Shen asked me to say hello to you, junior."

Kaiul nodded, his eyeballs trembling in his sockets, almost as if he was about to cry. The demon calmly stretched his body and slowly raised the giant sword.

It had seen too many similar things, but this time, it was afraid that it would become one of them. It turned its head to look at the silver tower on the horizon. The setting sun suddenly began to burn. The blood in its eyes was almost as bright as substance. Its fangs slowly closed.
"The elder brother has been waiting for you for a long time." The hunter said at its feet. "Although he doesn't know you are coming yet."

The demon looked down at him, still without any emotion on his face, he just nodded slowly: "Yes, he has been waiting for ten thousand years."

"I hope you can give him a little more time to accept this. It has something to do with whether I will break a bone in the future."

The demon gave a rare chuckle.

(End of this chapter)