40k: Midnight Blade.

Chapter 645 28. Belated Judgment (I. Old Dogs Grow New Teeth)
Lion El'Jonson frowned and looked at the spine in front of him without saying a word. The flesh and blood on it had been removed, and it was as white as a specimen, but it exuded a pungent smell of blood.

Smoke as dark as that emitted from a huge factory chimney slowly rose from the gaps between the joints, and the originally harmonious warm light was distorted in it. To the naked eye, one could actually see a wailing human face tumbling inside.

Corruption, depravity, distortion. If you hadn't seen it with your own eyes, who would have dared to believe that this vertebra once belonged to a human?

The lion controlled the urge to destroy it in his mind and spoke in a calmer tone: "Tell me, Inquisitor Serrano. What do you think about this so-called horn?"

Beside the cold iron table, the female judge whose name was called took a step forward with a serious expression, and reached out to pick up the spine without fear.

The dark smoke immediately rushed towards her, as if it had self-awareness, trying to get into her mouth, nose, eyes and ears.

This attempt naturally failed. With a low muffled sound, Cyrano van der Lef stretched out his free left hand, and the emblem of the Inquisition trembled rapidly in his palm.

A burst of light quietly bloomed, and the human face in the dark smoke screamed and returned to the spine, no longer showing any sign of activity.

Serrano spoke slowly.

"First of all, my lord, this thing was created by evil magic. It was born from human flesh and blood, but it has long been a twisted evil thing after years of betrayal and blasphemy. Even if the heretic claims that this thing is a horn, we cannot speculate with common sense."

"The horn is probably just a specious description. The pious finger bone used by my squire Black Sable when interrogating her can only keep the traitors honest to a certain extent. What she said may not be entirely true."

"Therefore, I strongly recommend that you seal this thing or destroy it."

"Aren't you going to take it back to the Inquisition, or keep it for your own use?" the lion asked casually.

"No." The female judge responded sternly. "We have no right to decide how far we can go in using taboos. Besides, I don't think this so-called horn is qualified to be included in the Taboo List."

The lion narrowed his eyes, suddenly stretched out his hand, and grasped a spear. When he spoke again, his voice had become irresistible.

"Inquisitor Cyrano, I give you the authority to mobilize resources on the Edge of Reason. You can also seek out Inquisitor Shefa to work with him. I don't care, as long as you can bring me the truth about this so-called Horn before we arrive at Kamas."

"Yes, my lord."

The lion nodded slightly to her, then hurried out of the slightly empty room with his spear in hand. There was no one on the deck outside, and even the guards responsible for protecting the Primarch's personal safety were not on guard here to perform their duties.

This was one of the Lion's wills. He cleared the 65th deck of the Edge of Reason. Originally, it was a separate material storage deck, filled with all kinds of food that people needed during the voyage, but now it was so empty that it was incomprehensible.

The room where the lion had just met with the female judge was the only one with people on the entire deck.
"Brother." A voice sounded in his ear. "Listen, we need to talk."

The lion looked ahead and calmly asked, "What are you talking about?"

"You are not serious, are you, Kamas? You are bringing that traitorous warband of the Ten Thousand Eyes to your second Caliban?"

The lion took a deep breath at this statement.

"It's not a second Caliban, it's Camas," he answered word by word. "Don't confuse the concepts, Russ. You know that I never thought of Camas as a replacement for Caliban, even though the similarities between them are amazing."

"You can say what you want, but do you really intend to blow this so-called horn there?"

"No," said the lion. "To blow it requires the sacrifice of human flesh and soul. I want to solve the problem at the source."

"So you do intend to blow it."

Leman Russ said thoughtfully, his voice echoing very clearly in the lion's ears. At first, his voice was serious and cold, but after only a few seconds, the Fenrisian people burst into laughter.

"So, you plan to call your rebellious sons like a knight and bet that they will come to Camas to be killed? Allfather, Leon, are you crazy or am I?"

The lion snorted with disdain and contempt, and then uttered a blunt insult.

"You fool, Russ. Going back to Kamas and blowing the horn in Kamas are essentially just a part of the deception. I have already sent out the signal and mobilized a large number of troops to garrison around Kamas."

"Whether they come or not, this part of the troops will not leave unless I solve the problem thoroughly."

"Solve the problem?" Russ asked softly. He seemed totally unfazed by the lion's vulgarity.

"The horn can let them know where the traitor is calling them. From this point of view, it should have some kind of positioning magic that I don't understand."

"So my tactics are very simple. I will find out the nature of the horn, force it to call, and locate the current location of the Ten Thousand Eyes. Like you, I don't think they will really come to Kamas, so I will go directly to them."

Russ chuckled twice, but before the laughter faded, the lion could hear him smacking his lips in dissatisfaction: "Good tactics, Leon. But I want to ask you a question, if they really come to Kamas, what will you do?"

"I know you will say that you can rely on your talents to quickly rush back to Camas with your troops. But if they really dare to come, then what will they bring with them?"

The Lion did not answer the question, but walked on. He seemed determined to end the conversation, but Leman Russ always liked to tear off the veil that concealed the truth.

The lion suddenly raised the Dionysus Spear that was tightly held in his right hand, pulling his arm down heavily to the ground. Its own weight combined with part of the lion's strength should have caused the ground to collapse, but for some reason, this did not happen.

The Spear of Dionysus stood upright in the lion's palm, and the blade made a slight buzzing sound.

The lion frowned.

The Fenrisian spoke again in a strong tone.

"I know you're upset, brother, but I have one last question - you can definitely ask Khalil for help with the horn, right?"

"I can't think of any reason why he would refuse, and if you have his help, I think you can find out where they are without the Ten Thousand Eyes knowing."

The lion slowly exhaled a breath of foul air, and his expression finally changed. The heart-pounding anger was fully displayed on his face.

"Are you looking upon him as a god, Ruth?"

“No,” the Fenrisian said. “I never thought of it that way.”

"Very well, we are on the same page again. You agree that he is not a god, so he is certainly not omnipotent. I would not say that he is just an ordinary person, but he is indeed a human being, just like you and me."

"And what does this have to do with him? He is the witness I invited. This is my business. The sins and blood involved should all be counted on my head. If I need his help and participation in everything, then what am I?"

"Don't mention such things again, brother." The lion said to Russ in a colder tone, holding the spear tightly, and took another step. This time, until he reached his meditation room, Russ did not stop him or make any sound.

But was that really the case? Was he convinced by the lion?

The answer may be different from what the lion himself imagined. In his imagination, Russ has been convinced by his words.

But the truth was, Russ was sitting on a dirty wooden throne, shaking a long-dried wine glass gently in his hand.

He sat in a very leisurely manner, like a lazy drunkard. Countless empty wine tables were quietly waiting under the throne, and many flags were fluttering above them. They were old and seemed to have been waiting for many years, but their emblems were blank.
Russ supported his face with his left hand, looked at the wine tables, listened to the wind coming from outside the fortress, and smiled calmly - this smile could almost be called a snicker.

They also say old dogs can't grow new teeth, Lion, the Fenrisian thought with great amusement.
-
Holding a book with a black cover, Khalil slowly fell into deep thought.

The book in his hand was not strictly named, but it was an absolute bestseller in the empire - at least it was ten thousand years ago.

Nowadays, even the most high-end black markets dare not auction this book or other works by this author. Caryl had heard of it a long time ago, but unfortunately, he had not really had time to read it until today.
To be honest, the book brought back some memories for him.

From the bridge to the dueling cage, from the mutual sarcasm in leisure time to the blood and fire on the battlefield - it sounds intimidating, but in fact it is just a daily routine, at least for a legionnaire.

Yes, you have probably guessed what this book is about and who its author is.

Khalil found the book in a library on the Edge of Reason. The Dark Angels unexpectedly valued books very much. They built almost as many libraries as armories, and the books in them were used as often as weapons.
The same is true for this book. The cover, made of some tough animal skin, even has wrinkles and holes. I guess someone accidentally used too much force when reading it.

Thinking of this, Khalil couldn't help but smile - for those who have not read this book, or don't know much about Yago Sevitarion, every sentence in this book is probably worth a shocked clenching or an angry tearing.

"He's really famous," said Conrad Coates.

"Do you really have the heart to mock him like this?" Khalil asked without even looking up.

"I'm just telling the truth. Isn't he famous? Eight out of ten chapter masters know him, and he watched the remaining two grow up."

"What a great generation, Khalil. I can already imagine how those poor, dedicated soldiers will be bullied and oppressed by him - oh!"

The Night King in the shadows sighed heavily and switched to a pompous aria.

"Look at what kind of monster we have created with our own hands! A monster that is left unattended and unaccompanied!"

Khalil closed the book and shook his head very calmly.

"If you want to speak up for him, you can just say so, Conrad. There's no need to use such rhetoric, even though it's true."

"Really, father? Is this really possible?" Curze asked sadly. "Will this not incur your wrath?"

".If you have something to say, just say it."

"Then I shall be disrespectful, father."

Khalil stood up and looked down at his own shadow, which began to expand. A phantom, tall figure slowly rose from it and stood in front of him, his expression so calm that it was disturbing.

A few seconds later, the Night King took off his crown, suddenly bent down, and began to look at Khalil. The two once again played the familiar bloody drama of using sharp knives to cut open each other's hearts.

"Father."

"I'm here."

"What are you going to do this time?" Coze asked in a gentle tone. "You were asked to be a witness, but I don't think you will be content to be just a witness. You will definitely contribute and do something that others can't do."

"I won't do anything unless Leon needs it."

"He needs it?" Coz smiled. "Well, does he need it, or do you think he needs it?"

"He needs it," Khalil repeated slowly. "Trust me."

"So, you've finally made up your mind? This really surprises me. My extremely arrogant father with a self-sacrificing complex has actually learned to respect others."

Khalil narrowed his eyes and laughed uncontrollably. In the puzzled look of Coze, he stretched out his tone and deliberately asked a question.

"which one?"

"You old thing!"

Curze was furious, put on the crown and returned to the shadows. Khalil was not angry, but just strolled in the empty library. After a few minutes, he returned the book in his hand to its original place.

"Conrad"

"What are you doing?" an unpleasant voice came from the shadow.

"Did you foresee anything?" Khalil asked with deep eyes.

He stood between the wide bookshelves, his face divided by obsidian and steel, the faint reflections and the dust in the cold air slowly flowing. He was talking and exhaling, but the dust floating in the air in front of him was completely indifferent.

Everything gradually came to a standstill, including time.

"Yes," said Coates.

"Is the ending good or bad?"

"Do you really care?" Coze asked coldly. "Don't bother me now. I'm digging a grave. I don't have time to talk to you, an annoying old man."

Khalil sighed helplessly, the stagnation dissipated, and time returned to normal. He put his hands behind his back and walked out of the library slowly. A emerald green planet slowly emerged outside the porthole in the corridor.

Camas.

(End of this chapter)