40k: Midnight Blade.

Chapter 650 33. Belated Judgment (VI, Return to Caliban)
It had been years since Lion El'Jonson had looked into a mirror.

He was aware of his aging and was willing to accept it, but he didn't like mirrors. For some reason, he felt that the reflection of himself in the mirror looked inhuman, majestic and cold, far more than he should be as a human being.

Compared to the first two, the latter was almost invisible on his face, even though he tried his best to put on a gentle expression. It was also from then on that he began to realize how other people viewed him.

Whether he likes it or not, the Lion must admit one thing - he is the product of genetic engineering, created by the most crazy but also the most talented scientist in the human race through technology and mystery.

Therefore, his appearance could not possibly be the result of some natural mutation or whim. The Emperor must have considered the possible consequences of this when he created him, but he did it anyway, just as he did with the others.

The glorious Sanguinius, the beautiful Fulgrim, the gloomy Konrad Curze
The Lion was well aware that the Emperor had demands of them, but until now, he had no idea what the Emperor expected of him.

He really wanted to know the answer.

He stood up, sword in hand. There was a forest above his head, grass under his feet, bushes surrounding gnarled old trees, Caliban's unique sunlight slipping eerily between leaves and branches, and the sound of insects chirping could be heard not far away.

What a familiar sight, but unfortunately he didn't really miss it. At least not now.

The lion lowered his right hand, lowered the sword blade, and began to scan the surroundings.

He had no habit of wearing a helmet, so people needed to see his face directly in order to know his identity and feel fear or courage.

This was a good thing, after all, he didn't have to worry about things like bullets, but unfortunately everything had its two sides - he couldn't use the analysis function of the helmet and eyepiece to obtain more information.

At this moment, all he could rely on were his senses.

But it didn't matter, he already knew where he was. The lion didn't even need to think about it before he could easily come to the conclusion: Is there any other place in the world that could be as familiar to him as Caliban?

As soon as he stepped into the forest, his instincts were immediately awakened. The damp air and dim light, the smell of animals carried by the breeze, the footprints on the ground and the poisonous snakes hiding in the dead leaves and rotten soil.
A thought flashed through his mind with a chill of displeasure: I'm going home.

Home is a word that is full of warmth and warmth for ordinary people. It can be expanded into grand words such as hometown and homeland, or it can simply be used to refer to a house or a family.

Some people's homes are dilapidated bungalows that are damp, cold, and leaky, with bugs on the beds.

Others have fireplaces lit all year round in their homes, and the silver plates used for dinner will reflect the expensive candlelight. The aroma of Grax steak will linger for a long time, together with the sweetness of wine, floating on the long table covered with white cloth.

As for the lion, his home is the forest, a deadly forest.

When he was a child, this place wanted to kill him. Decades later, this place still wanted to kill him, the only difference was the method.

Dangerous beasts and bombings from the sky. Given the situation at the time, there didn't seem to be much difference between the two to him.

So what now?
The lion walked calmly into the forest. Out of caution, he did not use his powers rashly. He understood that he had returned to Caliban, and to the Caliban of the past.

This was extremely counterintuitive and illogical, but hunting and warfare were both based on intuition, and the lion was very good at both. His intuition had never let him down.
He didn't want to gamble on what would happen if he used his abilities in the past, although a certain desire was taking root in his heart.

But no.

He couldn't defeat the thing that had stolen Horus Lupercal's body. Besides, he had more pressing matters to attend to.

No matter what purpose Serafax had in bringing him back here, the traitor must die, and before that, he needs to find his heirs first.
No, maybe there is no need to look for it.

The lion stopped, bent down, and peered out from the tight bushes.

He was not breathing at all at this moment, and his whole body seemed to be completely integrated with the surrounding environment. A breeze blew in his face, carrying the smell of green grass and the unique moisture of the stream.

The forest is like this. It may have seemed extremely gloomy not long ago, but with just a few turns, a path will take you in a completely new direction. Only the most experienced hunters can judge what is hidden at the end of these paths.

Whether it was good or bad, they could tell at a glance - the lion was naturally the most experienced hunter, but at this moment he did not dare to assert whether he would get a good result after embarking on this path.

The reason was simple: in a wide woodland on the other side of the river, fifty young men with immature faces were standing side by side in the morning breeze, rehearsing military formations.

It was a ceremonial military formation that would only be used on important occasions, and the lion knew it at a glance.

The man who led them had cold brown skin and long black hair that fell elegantly over his shoulders. His deep blue eyes were staring at the recruits intently, helping him find the flaws in their movements.

Zabril.

The lion gritted his teeth with mixed feelings.

After a few seconds, he turned and walked away, not exposing himself rashly. Talking to people from the past was a dangerous idea. He was not an expert in the occult, but he was familiar with many taboos.

This kind of thing would have an immeasurable impact on their timeline. Imagine if Zabril and his guard of new recruits met him at this time, then the outcome of the Caliban Rebellion would be different.
"Change?" a voice sounded in his ear.

A light sound erupted at the same time, and the lion's killing intent made him draw his sword in a fragment that could hardly be called time, and the debris of weeds and bushes floated slowly. Before it had time to land, Serafax's voice came back.

"Zabriel survived, Father, but the recruits he was with did not. Imagine if your Guard would have been better off if they had survived?"

The wizard took a deep breath as he spoke. His voice sounded as if it came from a very far distance. The lion frowned. He didn't really care about this. He just wanted to know how Serafax got into his mind.

"I did not get into your mind," the wizard continued, and he did not seem to be alone, for a monotonous and insistent humming sound lingered around his words.

Somehow, the lion felt familiar with the voice, but he did not start searching his memory immediately. In fact, the moment this thought came to his mind, he immediately immersed it in many complicated thoughts.

He had received relevant training and was no longer the same as before, and the training seemed to have worked, Serafax continued to talk to himself.

"I simply have a connection with you, Primarch, like a long-distance communication channel, just you and me. It goes both ways, I can vaguely hear some of your thoughts, and vice versa."

The lion narrowed his eyes and said nothing. He just picked a new direction in the forest and walked towards it.

“How long has it been since you last returned to Caliban?” Serafax asked, the humming sound continuing.

"I have to say that you are very cruel to your home world. Although I have spent most of my time hiding in the warp over the years, I have also tried my best to search for news about you."

“I know that you have only returned to Caliban twice since the Heresy. Once to reform the system, and once to execute some men. After all, it is your home.”

The lion remained silent, his thoughts as cold as ice.

The occult knowledge he had learned from Azek Ahriman and the resistance training he had received played a very important role. He had spent almost no effort to expel Serafax from his mind by relying on some imagination made up of meaningless fragments.

With a sigh of regret, the wizard's voice faded away in an instant, and the lion was alone again.

It's always like this.

Lion El'Jonson quietly exhaled the last bit of air left in his lungs, and his pupils gradually became sharp and slender. The hunter's unique secrets gradually emerged as he went deeper into the forest.

Man is clearly not supposed to have such abilities, and he will never fail the One who has so generously gifted him these things.
He rolled over the pile of dead leaves in full armor without making any sound. The rotten and sunken soil could not swallow his steel boots, and the sleeping beasts in the forest woke up naturally without even noticing him, and were driven by instinct to scatter.

Some of them panicked and rushed towards him, but the lion did not kill them.

The beast that needed to be conquered had long been dead, and these creatures were just ordinary animals. No matter how ferocious they were, he would not attack them when they were not hostile to him.
"If only you would have the same patience with us, Father."

The lion stopped again.

Serafax's voice seemed closer to him, as did the humming sound. The lion didn't know how he came back, but he didn't want to obey Serafax.

So, when the wizard's voice was heard again, the lion repeated the difficult exercise again. He had a similar result - when his cloak swept the dead branches of the tree, Serafax's voice was once again lost.

But this is obviously not a long-term solution. The Lions will not ignore the differences shown by Serafax in these two one-sided conversations.
He must find the Angels of Pardon as soon as possible, and then find Serafax, and he must race against time and seize the time, as fire may rain from the sky at any time.

“Yes, any time,” Serafax said, his voice hoarse and close. And this time, the humming sound disappeared.

"only--"

The lion swung his sword without even turning his head. The speed of the sword had already surpassed some kind of limit. When it split a giant tree in two, causing the towering giant to collapse and crush a piece of it, the sound of the sword swinging just broke out sharply.

It blended into the explosion-like sound caused by the collapse, not conspicuous, but real, just like the real killing intent boiling in the lion's eyes. Serafax stood in front of him, but he was unharmed.

There was only one expression on his face, and the indescribable sadness was so obvious that no one with any self-respect would like to show such true feelings in front of others, but Serafax did it.

He allowed himself to be weak, his facial muscles were twitching, his downward-curved lips and almost tearful eyes stung the lion's eyes deeply.

He immediately realized one thing - Serafax must have done something, and it was very likely that the sin was so great that the wizard himself could not forgive himself.
His head jerked up.

The sky began to burn.

In just a moment, the Lion understood what the familiar humming sound was: it was the sound of the weapons control panel on the Caliban orbital space station being warmed up.

The lion had never operated it, but had only heard it once during a drill. This matter had long been suppressed in a corner that he himself did not know about. If he was not the original body, then he would never have remembered this matter.
But he would rather not remember it now.

The lion raised his sword.

"It's you." He spoke in a calm, determined tone.

Serafax took a deep breath, neither admitting nor denying it. He looked so painful that he almost died on the spot. The sword light that formed a lake surface flashed at the same time and slashed towards his neck without hesitation.

Serafax coughed and stood there, neither dodging nor evading. Two dazzling blue lights lit up from under his feet, blocking the lion sword, but this did not diminish the lion's anger, but instead intensified the hatred in his heart.

Snarling, the Primarch of Serafax raised his sword once more, ready to strike at his offspring.

"Traitor!" he roared. "You will die without a burial place!"

"I know, I know," Serafax murmured, glancing at the lion very quickly before looking away immediately and taking a deep breath.

The lion's attack and fury were so overwhelming that they almost shook the earth, but Serafax's shield spell was as solid as a rock, blocking every blow.

The lion gnashed his teeth and began to miss the Spear of Dionysus. He thought it was an internal matter of his legion, so he did not bring it with him when the interrogation began. If the artifact was still in his hands now, Serafax would definitely have been disemboweled.

"But if I die, father -" the wizard habitually put on that fake smile, "- how are you going to go back?"

The sword blade tore through the blue light, the lion took a deep breath, and whispered in a tone of extreme resentment.

"I will kill you"

"And I have no doubt about it," Serafax replied, trying to maintain that smile. "I will die by your sword, as the culprit, the greatest sinner in ten thousand years, beheaded by you in front of everyone."

"I will willingly accept this outcome, but not now, father. I cannot die now."

He raised his right hand and made another spell gesture as the lion's rage grew fiercer. Spiritual energy began to flicker as he guided it, and a magic circle began to appear under their feet, but the lion ignored it and continued to swing his sword like crazy.

Serafax took in all of this and spoke again: "Twenty-two hours, father, remember this time? It only took us twenty-two hours to mess everything up."

More flames streaked across the sky, and something heavy landed in the distance, stirring up gusts of wind and tearing the ground apart. Screams and the shaking of the earth reached their ears.

Serafax clenched his right hand violently.

"Twenty-two hours."

He spoke slowly, the tip of the lion's sword flashing before his eyes. The lion held the sword with both hands and almost broke through his defense with a stab.

In such a dangerous situation, Serafax strangely felt a sense of honor. His Primarch should be so powerful.

Even if he was blessed by the Lord of Change, held a heavy weapon, and could survive the destruction of the world unscathed, the lion could really kill him in battle.
But not now.

The blue light of the magic circle lit up under the lion's feet.

"You have twenty-two hours," Serafax said, looking closely into the lion's eyes. "I will be waiting at the old site of the Order, Primarch."

The light went out, and the lion roared and disappeared. The wizard immediately spat out a large mouthful of blood and fell to the ground in pain. The flames on his body leaped cruelly, burning his flesh and blood.

How greedy is the blessing of chaos. It is called a blessing, but in reality it is nothing but a terrifying evil that devours souls and bones. It will not stop until it is completely devoured.
Just when Serafax was really about to lose himself over this, a blue arm suddenly stretched out from the shadows behind him and grabbed his shoulder.

The raging flames immediately went out, and a voice sounded in Serafax's ears with a heavy echo.

"The plan was successful, little wizard." It praised, chuckling. "I have seen many crazy people, but you are definitely one of the most outstanding among them."

Serafax staggered to his feet and shook his fist at the hand in disgust. Its owner seemed not to mind the offense at all, and his laughter became even clearer.

"Do you have any real sense of what you've done, Serafax?"

It asked this question, and its voice suddenly became calm, and its wisdom could not be concealed. In just a moment, it changed from a crazy creature to a wise man.

"I mean, do you really understand what you are doing?" it asked. "Time is not something that a mortal like you can touch at will. Even we have to think carefully before we can tease a certain node."

"Compared to us, what you did is like breaking into the king's banquet and smashing his crown in front of everyone. What do you think your punishment will be?"

"If the Lord of Change really wanted to punish me, He would have taken my soul long ago." Serafax replied coldly. "You don't need to say anything more here."

It immediately asked back: "So, do you know Him well? I think the answer is probably not. You have never seen Him, right? All your knowledge of Him comes from books, demons and your own imagination, and these things are not credible."

It sighed meaningfully.

"Seeing is believing, Serafax."

"Whether the Caliban Rebellion happens or not is not important to the world. You have worked hard for this your whole life, trying your best to change everything and arrange everything. You think you are an important person, but He may not care about you or your plan at all, and just wants to laugh at you."

Coughing, Serafax indifferently cast another teleportation spell. A blue light lit up, and his flaming hair seemed to return to its original state at some point.

"It doesn't matter." The wizard said firmly. "And you, shut up, just help me."

"Good!" It laughed. "I like unrepentant lunatics like you!"
-
With rage, the lion stepped into a new land. It was cold and dark, and the air was full of the smell of corruption, but he didn't care at all.

He knew where this place was, he could recognize it at a glance, but now he just wanted to go back and kill that beast Serafax.
However, the anger that was carried away by the untamed savagery was so terrifying that he even felt uneasy about it just because of the similarities between them.

The last time he acted with this kind of anger, Luther was by his side, but now—

"——Primarch?"

The lion turned around and saw his Angels of Absolution in the abandoned waterway below the Knights' station. Of course, there was also Azrael who was swept in, and the Knight's squire Asmodai.

"It's me, Zabril."

In an instant, his anger dissipated. He sheathed his lion sword and walked calmly between them, nodded to them, and silently checked the status of each person.

They were flattered, especially Asmodai, who was tense and held his sword like an amateur, probably because he knew where he was.

The lion didn't blame him, but the contrast between him and Azrael was really striking. As both juniors and newcomers, Azrael looked much more relaxed.
This conclusion remained until Azrael took off his helmet.

The lion saw his pale, tense face, and immediately overturned his conclusion.

"Zabriel." He called out the captain of the Angels of Absolution. "Reform your formation and let your little brothers relax. We'll be leaving in three minutes."

"Understood, Primarch," said the Angel of Absolution.

He did not ask where they were going, nor did he comment on the situation he was in. He simply followed the lion's orders, clean and pure, like a sharp sword.

Lion El'Jonson seized upon this thought and placed it within his own thoughts.
In the darkness, his eyes sparkled.

(End of this chapter)