40k: Midnight Blade.

Chapter 614 131. Interlude: Wine and Future

“You will not drink?” Roboute Guilliman asked.

The flickering candlelight cast three long shadows, one of which was much smaller than the other.

These are the private chambers of the Lord of Macragge.

For the first time in ten thousand years, the lights here were turned off, and the source of light instead came from the "holy candles" handmade by devout believers and certified by the state religion.

They were burning steadily away from the stacks of books, slates, and datapads, emitting an aroma that wafted through the air along with Guilliman's dislike.

When he refused to hold the banquet in the banquet hall of Macragge's Glory, some officials began to argue with him. In the end, they both backed down.

The officials agreed with his disdain for protocol, and he reluctantly lit the candles to give this 'holy feast' some of the sanctity it deserved.

However, if you remove the candles and only look at the piles of books, slates, and data tablets scattered around, someone might mistake this for a study.

But it was neither a study nor a living room. It was simply a private room that belonged exclusively to Robert Guilliman, and no one except him could enter.

In other words, this is his private land, where he writes and vents his emotions every painful night. And now, this private land has two new visitors.

One was tall and radiant, wearing a white robe, with pure white wings neatly folded behind his back. He sat upright on the edge of a chair that did not quite fit his particular body structure.

Compared to him, the other person was much more comfortable. He was lying leisurely in another chair. This chair, which was much larger than him, was like a soft bed, swallowing him gently.

"No," Sanguinius said. "I have given up drinking."

As he said this, he casually pushed the glass of wine on the stone coffee table in front of him into the distance. The scarlet wine was shaking inside, and the seductive light shone on the transparent wall of the glass along the candlelight, and bursts of sweet aroma slowly emerged from it.

It was a cup of blood wine, from Baal. It had spent six centuries or so in Guilliman's vaults, and was brought out today and presented to Sanguinius, but the Archangel had no desire to drink.

This precious wine from his hometown was his favorite in the past. Whenever there was a banquet, the angel who usually did not drink would order a glass or several glasses. Although he had never been drunk, he really liked blood wine. But the situation today seemed to be different.

Roboute Guilliman noticed this instinctively, and his instinct for data analysis and his keen sense of politics subconsciously began to help each other.
Then, he personally threw these two inappropriate and annoying helpers out of his mind, took the glass of wine, placed it on a pile of stone slabs behind him, and covered it with his broad back.

"You no longer like bloodwine?" Guilliman asked, trying to change the subject - of course, this was a failed attempt, as Sanguinius had already said that he had given up drinking, but his question still revolved around alcohol.

The Lord of Macragge was annoyed at his slow reaction and could not help but feel annoyed: What? You can't talk to people if you don't become a politician? Can't you just put aside your duties for a while, be a normal person, and sit with your brothers to kill time?
But Sanguinius did not mind.

The archangel laughed, a genuine, heartfelt laugh, and personally demonstrated to his brother how to change the subject.

"I might like Russ's personal collection more now. As far as I know, he has several barrels of mead buried in the snowy mountains of Fenris. I don't know if his sons have tried to find them. After so many years, if those barrels of wine are still there, they must taste very mellow."

"Rich?" Guilliman said, his features wrinkled. "I prefer to use the word toxic."

"Wine itself is poison."

"There are very few meads that are as poisonous as this one—" Guilliman said, shaking his head. "—Most Fenrisian meads can be used as low-quality engine fuel, and Russ's own wine."

"I dare not imagine the raw materials of that thing and its brewing process. Of course, I also know that this is my own prejudice. If Russ were here, he would probably start to laugh at Macragge's wine. It's a pity that he is no longer here, and so is Macragge."

The air fell into silence for a moment.

What on earth am I talking about? Guilliman belatedly shut his mouth.

"What a good joke." The third person in the room suddenly spoke. This was the first sentence he said after entering the room. Although his voice was hoarse, his tone was very natural.

Sanguinius turned his head and looked at him, his expression becoming a little indescribable. Robert Guilliman covered his face with his hands, his shoulders shaking. After a few seconds, he used a dull voice to change the subject in the way Sanguinius did.

"So, kumiss?"

He put his hand down and returned to his expressionless face. Sanguinius glanced at him again and finally couldn't help sighing. He propped himself up on his elbows, resting his cheek with his left hand, and spoke in a somewhat melancholy tone.

"Robert"

"How about kumis?" Guilliman emphasized again.

"Very good." Sanguinius couldn't help but smile. "Very good, in fact."

"Although Chagatai doesn't like to talk about his hometown with us, that's a thing of the past after all. In recent years, the various specialties of Chogoris have become popular among wandering traders."

"Kumbre is even called 'drinkable gold', as are their weapons and modified horses. But if I really had to choose a wine to drink at a banquet, I'm afraid I would still choose Amazak."

Khalil straightened up from the softness of his chair and asked seriously, "Which one?"

"It depends," Sanguinius answered quickly. For some reason, he seemed to be very interested in this topic and began to speak at length.

"If it's a private exchange, like this banquet, then I would choose Colin's A-type craft beer, which has a unique flavor and a sweet taste. But if it's an official occasion, then it must be Kamalaq's Goddess of Victory."

"It took them a hundred years to find the right recipe to make this wine. It tastes unique, but also mellow. When it flows through the throat, it doesn't feel like a knife or spicy, but only a comfortable feeling."

"Moreover, their bottles are specially designed. For example, if the wine in a standard wine glass reaches halfway, the chip at the bottom of the bottle will close the bottle cap, which ensures that people at the party will not get drunk and lose their composure."

Listening to his words, Guilliman couldn't help but feel a little confused. In his impression, Sanguinius was not a generalist. What he didn't know was that during his years as regent, Sanguinius had to learn a lot of new knowledge.

Although this knowledge often made him feel alienated and no longer the same as before, he still managed to find fun in it. For example, he once used a fabricated identity to write a book called Imperial Brew, which was very popular once it was published. From sailors in the starport to farmers in the fields, almost everyone who could still read had bought the book and brewed their own wine according to the chapters in it. Some succeeded, some failed, and some started a new life.
As the author and regent, Sanguinius has a report in his hand, which mentions a data: since the release of "Imperial Wines", there have been twenty-eight officially certified new wines in the galaxy.

They brought new lists of exports to those worlds, and the profits were lucrative, giving many people jobs and keeping them from living on the streets, becoming part of hive gangs, or dead on the side of the road.

And Sanguinius thought, if he could find a way to help others, then what about Khalil Rohars? How would he do it? Or, what did he do?
When thinking about this, Sanguinius even had a faint expectation. He really wanted to know the answer to this question.
Yes, he really believed that a man like Caryl Rohals would have his own opinions on wine.

The reason? It all goes back to the brief appearance of Conrad Kurtz not long ago, and a joke that didn't quite sound like a joke coming from his mouth.

Facing his expectant gaze, Khalil nodded seriously.

"I see. Thank you, Sanguinius, for these insights are very helpful. Robert, do you have a suitable pen and paper for me? I would like to jot this down."

Roboute Guilliman stood up, bursting into laughter from his chest, and began to look for paper and pen.

Sanguinius looked at him in astonishment, then looked at Khalil, and finally couldn't help asking a question: "Your Conrad said that you have been back for a long time, and he also said-"

Sanguinius stopped talking and began to breathe deeply.

Khalil looked at him helplessly and spoke slowly: "To be honest, Sanguinius, even if you count all the time, I have not been 'back' for more than two natural months."

The angel took a deep breath and finally asked, "But why did he do this?"

Khalil lowered his head, seemingly in deep thought. After a few seconds, he raised his head and replied, "He said there are two reasons for this."

"I'm all ears."

"That's not necessary. He said that, first of all, he is a Nostramo and doesn't like shiny things. Every time he looks at them, he feels like he's going blind."

"Of course, I have to say that this is complete nonsense. There is probably no light in this world that can blind him. And he is not a true Nostramo, and he does not have any so-called genetic defects."

"Second, he said, it was a little revenge."

"Revenge?" Sanguinius looked puzzled.

Khalil sighed, a ray of moonlight quietly disappeared from his shadow, and a voice sounded in Sanguinius' ears along with the quiet night breeze.

"Yes, revenge, brother." The Night King whispered quietly to his brother. "I really, really, really don't like what you are going to do next, and the attitude you have already tried to turn into that appearance."

"You're going to hurt yourself and make yourself bleed. In the end, you might even end up like me, no longer being a human being. But I can't blame you. I can't blame you. But I am Conrad Kurtz after all. I have to find a way to embarrass you and use it to remind you of something."

What is it? Sanguinius asked silently, his lips tightly pursed.

He got no answer.

Robert Guilliman walked towards them as if he knew nothing, and handed Khalil a pen and paper. His expression was not very serious, but his hands were clenched behind his back.

The pen made a rustling sound as it slid across the soft paper. Khalil leaned over the armrest of the chair and carefully wrote down the key points of Sanguinius' words.
For a moment, no one spoke here, only pure silence.

This silence should not have appeared at this banquet. The guests had not seen each other for a long time. This should have been a good opportunity to talk to each other. However, there was not much left in them that allowed them to speak freely.

Everyone is trapped in the prison of the past, a politician, a shining symbol, and a prisoner hiding in the dark, biting his fingers and laughing crazily.
The party will eventually end.

"So, where are you going?" Guilliman suddenly asked.

"Wandering around." Khalil said, his head down, still writing. "I can't go to Terra, let alone Nostramo. Besides, I don't want to take Yago Sevitarion's ship and be complained by him every day."

"Although I am indeed an antique, no one has stipulated that antiques cannot grow legs and walk on their own. Moreover, our Majesty has given me a new mission. He wants me to travel around the present empire - to collect hope."

Sanguinius raised his brow. "He is willing for you to reveal this to us?"

Khalil looked up with a smile, put the cap on the pen, handed it back to Robert Guilliman, and then began to fold the paper.

"Even if he doesn't want to, there's nothing he can do. My legs and mouth are on my body. It's so far away from home, how can he manage it?"

The angel smiled and nodded slightly, "Not any time soon, Khalil."

"Yes." Guilliman suddenly snorted. "You will become the embodiment of something glorious."

Sanguinius looked at him helplessly: "Don't be like this, Robert, now is a great opportunity. I can make the five hundred worlds return to the glory of the Astronomican. Shouldn't you be happy about this?"

"If it means paying with your blood"

"I have paid it," said Sanguinius. "So I will save you no matter what, and you will come with me, Roboute Guilliman."

"I refuse," said Guilliman, with a wry smile. "How dare I travel with the Avatar of Light?"

"I refuse your refusal!" the angel shouted, rising and rushing towards him.

Outside the porthole, the stars were still dark. Countless light years away, in the broken Terra surrounded by countless fortresses, the light of the Astronomican began to shine brightly.

The darkness remains, but the day will eventually come.

(End of this chapter)