40k: Midnight Blade.

Chapter 639 22. Trial (End, 7k)

"How many times has this happened, Asmodai?"

I heard the lion ask this. He stood in the middle of the interrogation room, the dim light from above making the area around his eyes dark.

I think he's probably very angry now, but I'm almost angry too.

I don't understand what set of rules these young guys in charge use, but in our time, infighting and private fighting are absolutely intolerable behaviors.

If someone is dissatisfied with another brother, they can go to the duel field to resolve the problem, and their brothers and the captain will help to resolve the conflict. This is already very rare, and in most cases, there will be no rift between us.

Pointing a gun at a brother in battle in public like he did just now would result in severe punishment, but then again, I don't think the idiot who was disarmed by his own brothers would realize his mistake.

The reactions of Azrael and the lion told me that this was probably not the first time something like this had happened. And I knew very well that a person who was willing to repent would not make the same mistake again.

"the fourth time."

Asmodai answered the lion's question in an ambiguous voice.

It was hard for me to control myself, and I subconsciously wanted to ask.

What's going on? I frowned, not understanding how someone could stay in the Corps after making the same mistake four times in a row. Could it be that discipline and character are no longer valued? What about self-reflection?

Moreover, the fool did not even look at the lion when answering his question. Whether it was out of guilt or cowardice, it was not what a knight did.

"Did you want to kill him just now?" the lion asked again, with a very calm expression.

He is asking even though he knows the answer.

The realization eased my tension a little. I didn't care if he defended me or not. Some rules had to be set. Pointing a gun at another brother was not okay in the Corps.

But Asmodai’s next answer was hard for me to understand.

"Yes."

I heard the idiot say this, and he even looked up at me with naked hatred in his eyes.

I immediately turned to look at the lion, and frankly, I was very worried that he would draw his sword and kill this stupid and stubborn idiot right there and then. Although he didn't have a sword, that was definitely not a problem.

A few seconds later, the Lion put my worries to rest with another question, which was a good thing, but also a little confusing - this is definitely not Lion El'Jonson's style.
I had to remind myself again that the Lion was no longer the same person I remembered him to be. He had changed.

The most direct evidence of this matter is myself: If he is still as violent as before, then how could I still be alive?

"So, this means you have a problem with my order?"

".No." Asmodai replied in a low voice.

"Good, fool. Lower your voice and show your humility. You should do so in the presence of your leader and primarch."

The lion asked again: "Then why did you draw your gun and point it at his forehead?"

This time, Asmodai chose to answer with silence.

At first I thought he was just thinking, but when the silence gradually stretched to the twentieth second, I could no longer control my anger - Emperor, how could there be such an idiot in this world?
In my anger, the lion took a step forward and came in front of Asmodai.

I secretly hoped that he would inflict some kind of punishment, at least at first, my mind was still on this, but when the lion really did it, I felt cold all over, as if even my blood was frozen.

In the center of the interrogation room, the lion tore through everything around him with his rage. He looked at Asmodai with his hair and beard standing up, staring at him intently.

Heavy pressure has unknowingly occupied every inch of your body, making it hard to breathe, as if someone has grabbed your lungs with his invisible hands, and then suddenly exerted force, tightly holding them.
As I slowly suffocated, I had to admit one thing: I was actually very familiar with this expression of his.

I had seen him on Caliban rush into our midst with the same expression in his eyes, clutching his lion sword.

Back then, before I saw it, I was with the new recruits. I remember it was in a wooded area outside the city, sparsely populated but very large. I selected fifty of them and taught them how to form a ceremonial battle formation.

It's an annoying formality, but if they ever have to attend certain events with the Lions in the future, this etiquette is necessary.

It was a good teaching experience. The students were happy to learn and I was happy to teach. Everything went very happily.

They imagined the future, standing beside the Primarch in ceremonial armor covered with medals. I looked back to the past, how I followed the Lion to Terra and the Emperor's Dream.
It was not until forty minutes later that fire began to rain from the sky.

We rushed to the city.

And then.
"I'm disappointed in you, Asmodai."

I looked up sharply, and so did Azrael, who had remained calm. As for Asmodai, he looked red-faced. No, that was not the right word to describe his appearance, but I could hardly find a better one.
He lowered his shoulders dejectedly, waiting for the final decision of the Primarch - not only him, we also want to know how the Lion will deal with him. But Azrael is worried, but I am gloating.

"But at the same time, you also make me lose face."

Oh, Emperor——! I looked at my Primarch in shock, but I only heard his increasingly low voice.

"Every time you disobeyed my orders, I felt guilty, and this time was particularly serious. So, am I incompetent, my son?"

"I can't make you understand our true mission, nor can I free your mind from the influence of hatred. I think this is probably the case, otherwise things would not have come to this point."

Asmodai, who had been silent until then, suddenly shouted, "Never, father!"

I was shocked again and looked at him again.

It's interesting to say that we rarely call the lion that way. Few of us call him father because the lion doesn't seem like a person who can be called a father.

Although he is indeed our genetic father, the complex feelings that most people in the legion have for him must be less about father than other things. As for someone like Asmodai calling him father with such sincerity, I really can't imagine it.

Furthermore, his voice was trembling when he shouted, and I believe it was not just shame that was at work.

Some questions got stuck in my throat but I couldn't say them because they were too ridiculous for me.
I thought anxiously, trying to get the answer on my own. This attempt failed, and the lion spoke again, interrupting my meditation. In his deep voice, some truth quietly flowed out.

"Twenty-two years ago, I followed the fallen angels to Sakator, your hometown. I arrived a step too late, and all I saw was a burning planet, while the murderer had already left."

"I ordered an emergency landing and sent out the entire army to search for traitors and protect the innocent. The entire operation lasted three days, and there were only 376 survivors, and you were the only child among them."

"When I found you, you were only breathing your last breath. Your parents used their bodies to protect you, resisting the pressure of the ruins that were hundreds of times their own weight. There is no doubt that this was a miracle, and you were not destined to die, so I took you away."

"Fifteen years ago, I told you the truth. I told you who the murderers were and why they did it. And you asked me if they had been punished. What did I say then, Asmodai?"

".You told me that it would, but retribution would not find them on its own."

"Yes." The lion nodded slowly. "I promised you that you would get a chance for revenge. Did I break my promise?"

"No."

"Have I broken my promise?"

"No, father," Asmodai said through gritted teeth. "You trained me yourself after that."

"Yes, you will get a chance for revenge - but look at this man." The lion raised his hand and pointed at me. "You have read the information. Do you think he is the murderer who destroyed your hometown and killed your parents?"

I straightened my chest to accept Asmodai's possible observation. I felt angry and wanted to vent it. If he looked at me with that hateful look again, maybe I would feel better.

But after another long silence, I heard him say, "He is a fallen angel, father."

I almost sighed.

This idiot, his stubbornness made the gentle persuasion from the lion, which I have only seen twice in my life, completely useless. Doesn't he really understand how precious it is for such a thing to happen to our Primarch?
I didn't know what to say, but the lion laughed.

"Really? In that case—"

He turned and looked at me, and I instinctively stood at attention, my steel boots clashing.

"—Zabriel, come here."

I walked towards him.

"This is Zabril."

He put his hand on my shoulder, walked up behind me, and began to introduce me to the two young men—mainly to Asmodai, but Azrael listened carefully, too. Yes, he barely passed muster in terms of discipline.

"Former member of the Skeleton Army, and later one of the Knights of the Deathwing when it was first founded. He was already full of honors before I returned to the Legion. He and his brothers once fought alongside the Emperor."

"After what happened to Caliban, he was forced into exile for nearly four centuries, during which time he did not kill any innocent people. He could have relied on his own abilities to go to some wild world and become a local god, but he did not do so."

“He held his ground.”

"But yes, he is a Fallen Angel. So what are you going to do, Asmodai? Are you going to kill him?"

There was another long silence, and the fool still didn't answer the question, and I was beginning to get bored. The lion had changed, becoming kind and patient, but I would rather he didn't do that.

I believe he would not turn a blind eye to Asmodai in this regard because of the special bond between him and him, but what else is there to say?
Perhaps in the eyes of fools like Asmodai, all fallen angels deserve to die. I also admit that some of us do, those who betrayed humanity.
But our lives belong to the Emperor and the Lion, and only they can judge us.

Asmodai stared at me as if I were a traitor who had committed a heinous crime, filled with hatred. However, where did this hatred come from? Was it a sense of responsibility to maintain the glory of the Legion? Absolutely not. His hatred was simply selfish.

He confused the proper balance between public and private, and put his own hatred above the Legion. In my opinion, he was not worthy of wearing that black armor.

The lion cruelly broke the silence.

"Think before you act, and you have obviously not done that, Asmodai. Therefore, I am stripping you of your knighthood and you will become Zabril's squire. You will obey his orders until he deems you worthy enough to become a knight again."

Asmodai shuddered and widened his eyes, and I could see that his throat must be tightening. I heard a slight hoarse sound, which made me happy - but, let him be my servant?
I tilted my head slightly and saw a sly smile.

Ah. So that's what you're thinking.

"Do you obey?" the lion asked again.

".I obey."

"Very well, now dismissed, proceed to the armoury to remove your power armour, and remove the sigil from it, then report to your captain and inform him of your problem. I will see you dressed in the robes of your squires before tonight. Azrael, you shall accompany him."

The lion gave the order and gestured to me, asking me to follow him. I took a deep breath and followed him out of the gate. The two young boys followed closely behind us, and their footsteps gradually faded away. One was fast and the other was slow, and the meaning was self-evident.
The lion led me to the depths of the corridor and stopped in front of a door. This door was different from mine, it was a special iron-gray color and very heavy. I had never seen this kind of alloy before, so I guess it was something new that was created after I went into exile.

But, all in all, my escape hadn't lasted more than four centuries. How come it had suddenly been ten thousand years?
"Zabriel." The lion suddenly called me, his tone was a little humorous. "Do you have any objection to my order?"

"What orders, my Lord?" I replied humorlessly. "Do you think Asmodai is worthy of being your squire?"

I wanted to sigh, but I held back: "If he was really trained by you personally, then he must be qualified."

"Really? Compared to your former chief of arms, Ambro?"

"He's far from it," I said bluntly. "No one can compare to Ambro in this position."

I'm not kidding, that's what I really think. Ambro was one of the 'new systems' introduced after the Lion returned to the Legion. At that time, I was no longer a member of the Skeleton Army, but a member of the Deathwing.

Calibans began to join the Legion, bringing with them their proud traditions of the Order. We old Terran guys weren't really interested in this, but the Primarch's origins still attracted us.

In a few years, we were all knights, and knights naturally need a large group of servants to take care of their daily lives.
To be honest, I don't like people serving me tea, water and towels in my spare time. I'm not that kind of aristocratic waste who seems to have no hands or feet. Ambro is my only servant. Therefore, the title of the chief military officer is actually quite funny.

I couldn't help but fall into memories.

Ambro always does a great job, keeping my armor spotless and my weapons well oiled. He's meticulous and always gives me sound advice.

On many occasions, his human perspective saved me from a fit of rage, and he did a great job at the banquet, his manners were impeccable, and my glass was never empty.

Moreover, although he is my servant, he has never looked down upon himself. After the Lion returned to the Legion, his shadow is hidden behind all the honors I have achieved.

I think he influenced me to a certain extent and made me a better person.

It was incredible to say, how could an Astartes be influenced by a mortal? But that was the era of the Great Crusade, not this era of ignorance, fanaticism, and people like Asmodai.

Ambro is rational and proud, he believes in the Imperial Truth, he serves me because he believes he must find a way to serve the Emperor. I am the same, we are on the same path, we both want to fight for humanity.

But that time is past, and Ambrosio is dead. He died on Caliban, as did so many of my brothers.

I didn't die, I don't know whether this is lucky or unfortunate.

The door suddenly opened, and a gust of cold wind blew out. The freezing temperature immediately set off an alarm on the temperature monitoring system of my old power armor. This was strange, as I had thought that this function was broken.

I looked towards the open door, trying to understand the reason for the cold, but I only saw a mortal standing there.

He was very tall, almost as tall as some inferior armed servitors, but his height was obviously not the main reason for the drop in temperature, so I looked past him.
and many more.

I looked away and stared at him again.

I remembered—I almost shouted his name. My voice echoed in the corridor, carrying a name that kept colliding and swirling, and gradually dissipated into a hollow and distorted sound.

The mortal looked at me curiously, acting as if he were a stranger, but I would never mistake him for someone else.

His name is Caryl Rohals.

But why is he so much shorter?
"Are you done yet?" he asked.

He certainly wasn't asking me.

"Almost. How about you?" I heard the lion answer, which made me more certain of my guess. But how could someone shrink?

"That depends on what you think," Caryl Rohals said with a smile. "But for now, the information I have is more than enough - you can set off anytime you want."

He raised his right hand, tightened his five fingers, and waved it gently. I suddenly felt a sharp pain in front of my eyes, and then the sound of a sharp blade slicing through the air rang out.

"There's no rush for now." The lion said calmly. "We've been tracking for so long, we can wait a little longer. Those who deserve to die will die eventually, and they can't escape retribution."

Caryl Rohals's expression suddenly became a little strange. I didn't understand why. I only heard him say, "Perhaps it would be more appropriate for me to say this."

The lion laughed, patted me on the shoulder, and let me go. I was grateful that he had freed me from this embarrassing situation, and it would have been better if he had chosen a way other than another more troublesome order.

He asked me to go outside on the deck and take the 'old brothers' who had passed the interrogation to find the current Dark Angels Chapter Master.

This is definitely the hardest job in the world. But I have no choice.

I left here with his blessing, full of complaints.
-
"The vast majority of them have already given up on the Legion."

The lion spoke after Zabril left. His voice was calm, but Khalil could hear the pain in it.

"I understand. After all, they are being hunted. They have to evade capture all the time before that abominable alien takes them away."

"They were forced to fight me and my brothers on Caliban. Cannonballs rained down from the sky, and then there was murder and war. No reason, just weapons. That was enough to drive people crazy, not to mention the relentless pursuit after that."

Lion El'Jonson closed his eyes, and Khalil heard him take a deep breath.

"So? What do you want to say?" Khalil asked softly.

"They are lucky, but also unlucky." The lion said with his eyes closed. "They didn't die in the civil war on Caliban. After that, they paid the price for every second they lived. But what was their fault?"

"I have not spared any traitor, but I am unwilling to wrongly accuse any loyalist. They deserve a second chance, don't they, Khalil?"

"This is your legion, your highness."

"The Warband," the lion corrected, opening his eyes to glance at Khalil. "Are you mocking me?"

"No." Khalil smiled. "I don't think so."

He got a snort.

The lion strode into the open door and closed it, and Khalil walked out from the other side of the darkness as if nothing had happened.

This place is different from Zabril's interrogation room. The light here is dim to the point where it would cause damage to human eyes, but this is not the most eye-catching point.

In the center of the room, there was a metal chair welded to the ground. Its surface was a strange dark red, as if it had been stained with blood many times. A giant who had been deprived of his power armor sat on it, his hands and feet were pierced and bound by iron chains.

There were cuts all over his body, his flesh was torn apart, and the nerves attached to his bones were clearly visible.

The lion looked at him coldly.

The man weakly raised his head and looked into the darkness with his eyes wide open like a mortal. He quickly caught sight of the lion's massive body, but he suddenly sneered.

"Ah, who was it that I thought was here? You sent me a judge, and then an executioner, and now you have condescended to come to me in person?"

He distorted his face, shook his body up and down, and nodded to the lion as if saluting him.

"Hello, father! Where's the great Lion El'Jonson!" he roared. "It's been a long time!"

The lion called out his name calmly: "Indeed, Nadir, long time no see."

The fallen angel named Nadir immediately began to curse.

"I hope you are burned to ashes in the fire of hell! I curse you, Lion! You are not worthy to be our Primarch! Not even for these crappy imposters!"

"Have you told them of your deeds on Caliban? I hope you have, because one of the damn virtues of chivalry is honesty! You better abide by it, my Primarch!"

He laughed, and the muscles at the slit throat trembled.

The lion folded his hands indifferently: "I came here to give you a chance, Nadir."

"I refuse to accept any of your offers!" Nadir roared. "You've already let that sorcerer torture me and read my mind, haven't you?! Shame on you for using the power of psychic energy when the Emperor has banned it!"

The lion's anger came so fast that in an instant he was in front of Nadir. There was no warning, the wind was howling, and he had already grasped the latter's neck with his right hand.

"You are no longer worthy of calling him the Emperor." The lion whispered with disgust. "There is no place for a traitor like you among the people he wants to protect. You betrayed humanity, betrayed him, betrayed me, and betrayed the Legion."

"I really want to know what is left in your heart. Is there anything in your two hearts that you really cherish and are willing to believe in? Hmm?"

Nadir laughed strangely with difficulty, and the lion loosened his grip slightly so that he could breathe and speak. He was met with a gasp mixed with minced meat and blood, and a continuous cough.

"No matter what you say, I am your descendant. You can't get rid of the blood connection, father."

"No longer." The lion said softly. "The moment you massacred the Governor's Mansion on Sarathil and took over, you were no longer my descendant. You were just a scum who killed innocent people for your own selfish desires."

Nadir raised his head slightly, looked at his genetic father, and asked the last question.

"So, who brought me to this point?"

The lion clenched his right hand.

Amid the whispers of the dark ones, Khalil spoke calmly, interjecting himself into the murder: "He has connections with the so-called Ten Thousand Eyes War Gang."

"What aspect?" the lion asked without turning his head.

"Help each other. He provides them with mortal servants as well as supplies such as test subjects and fuel in exchange for the services of the Ten Thousand Eyes."

"Serve?"

Khalil hummed and said calmly, "They are either modified creatures that have been combined with the evil magic of the Warp, or some disposable psykers. In short, they are closely related to Chaos."

"Ten Thousand Eyes."

The lion turned around and whispered, with an emotion Khalil was very familiar with in his eyes. So he sighed and asked, "So, leave immediately?"

".No."

Khalil looked at him in surprise.

"I have other things to do."

The lion explained gloomily, then paused and made a very strange request: "Tomorrow morning at 8 o'clock, deck 20. Remember to wear the uniform of the Eighth Legion. I have asked someone to send it to your room."

He walked to the door and opened it, letting in the light and the soft sounds of the corridor. That was how Khalil heard his last words.

"I ask you to witness it." The lion said solemnly.

(End of this chapter)