Warhammer 40: Shattered Steel Soul

Chapter 11 Atheism

"Artisans? Lokos welcomes craftsmen, we can guarantee that. We respect those who maintain their skills, and Lokos will always be the best place for craftsmen to display their talents." Damex said.

"So, Morse, could this boy be the legendary divine son from the mountains?" He looked at Perturabo.

Without Morse saying anything, Perturabo took half a step forward by himself.

The blood of the enemy was still stained on the front of his clothes, and beneath the torn blood-stained cloth was new tender skin.Whether it's the dust on his cheeks or the torn robes, it doesn't detract from his own appearance.

His calmness and composure, as well as the little unexplained scrutiny, are evidence of his unusualness.

No one can deny what a wonderful and exquisite creation Perturabo is. This is an objective fact.

"I know not whether I came from the mountains, or whether I ever slew wild beasts in Qadithiya."

"You really don't know?"

"I don't remember, these memories are not in my mind."

Perturabo looked down at his hand, the skin on the palm was still bloodshot red.

He remembered again the many failures he had experienced under Morse these days, the carvings that had failed again and again, the talent he had been deprived of, his weakness and impulsiveness, his failures again and again, and Morse's cold expression. Gift.

Is this such a person who once came from the mountains and left a reputation in the mortal world?
Morse sneered more than once. After losing his ability, he was as weak as an ordinary mortal.

He clenched his fist and brought it back to his side.

"But I am not a divine child."

A small commotion broke out in the crowd, the soldiers stood as still as statues, and the courtiers began to whisper among themselves.

+ Guess what they are talking about?They say you don't even want to call Damex Your Majesty. +
Perturabo followed the good example and looked directly at Damex: "And you are not my king. I am not subordinate to anyone."

A high-ranking courtier spoke out for Damex: "How can you be so rude!"

Damex moved the scepter between his knees and raised his hand gently: "It doesn't matter. If he doesn't remember anything, how can he force the guests to abide by our polite rules? We don't teach etiquette either. Inviting our divine boy to study, isn’t it?”

"I'm not a boy descended from God." Perturabo spared no effort to correct, the firmness in his words was stronger than steel.

He looked forward, "I don't even know what a god is. I don't even know the Alka and Anoyinkai you mentioned."

The voices of the courtiers talking became louder. This time, Morse was not needed as a psychic microphone. Perturabo himself could hear their arguments, which were nothing more than "arrogant and rude", "ignorant" and "disrespectful to God". cliché.

He let the words sink into his eardrums and found that he didn't even feel the heat of anger rushing to his brain.

Perturabo looked into his mind and made some assumptions, and found that even if these people cursed him, the irritation he could feel was nothing more than Morse's simple sarcastic grin at the stone sculpture in his hand. One-tenth of.

He roughly let Morse's pale face out of his mind, and continued to confront Damex head-on.

Damex's scepter rolled in his palm, and Perturabo knew that every little gesture the man made was a sign of authority.

The king made a footnote on the existence of gods: "The gods are on the mountains and in the clouds. That is the Lord of creation who is higher than us. He looks down from the top of Mount Terraphos to judge the existence of all living things. He is not a non-human being." The Holy Spirit that can be reached, the world can disobey, and the people can reject it.”

The tip of the golden scepter points to the side of the throne. "The twin god-kings gave authority to the city-state. This is the image of Gorzik and Kalafais."

+I thought they were Anubis or something like that. They looked really dark-skinned, and their looks were retro to those before AD. +
Morse's icy tones, characteristic of sarcasm at that moment, snaked past Perturabo's ears.

+ Last time I came to the city, I should ask more about their legends, so that I can use them as your bedtime stories. +
Perturabo suppressed the urge to stare back, and returned his attention to the conversation with the Lokos.

"Have you ever seen these beings, Tyrant?" he asked.

The tyrant's scepter struck the armrest, making a crisp and light sound.

"I don't have this honor," said the tyrant.

"So, has anyone seen these existences?" Perturabo chased. He didn't need to make unnecessary physical movements, and the words themselves had enough power.

Among the courtiers, another gorgeous robe squeezed out from the courtiers of various colors, and then Perturabo saw his smooth-shaven head, and the zenith electric lamp reflected in the sweat droplets on the top of his head.

A priest, or a priest, or a stargazer—Perturabo didn't know what he was.

"How can we see the majesty of the gods?"

The voice of the visitor was thin and high-pitched.

"Mortals are not part of the great plan of the gods. The gods reside outside the celestial sphere. We can only glimpse their glory through the various reflections of the gods' kindness in real life. How can you question them like this? Is your heart so dirty and closed that you have never been inspired by the gods?"

He has only experienced the creation of a creator and the destruction of a crazy craftsman.

"All human knowledge should begin with experience." Perturabo said.

Before he opened his mouth, countless thoughts were automatically woven into ropes and cables, orderly forming an intertwined net in the vast thought space.He lets language walk along this web.

"No knowledge can be born before experience. We connect and separate the ontology of the object from the image projected by the object's stimulation of all our senses, so that perceptual cognition becomes knowledge about the object. Intellectuality, sensibility, category, time, space …Can you find clear evidence of the existence of gods from any experience?”

"Naturally!"

The priest's anger used the remaining energy in his thin body as cotton thread and wax oil, burning in his cloudy eyes. “Looking at all the coincidences and fates in life, isn’t it enough for us to realize the brilliance of God?”

"All coincidences have their antecedents and consequences, and things are bound to be interconnected. When you admit coincidences, you deny the reasons behind the surface, and presuppose conclusions in the premises, so that you are unwilling to obtain confirmation from experience."

"Of course things are connected. This rule is made by our god."

"I doubt it," Perturabo said crisply.

"I don't accept making such metaphysical presuppositions about feelings, or even assuming that there is some objective entity behind the feelings, so I doubt it. And you never use reason to reflect on your speculations."

The priest gulped, nearly choking on his own breath.He punched his chest violently until his face returned to its normal flush.

"What qualifications do you have to doubt us? Can you prove your qualifications?"

Perturabo didn't hide his sneer anymore.

"Boom."

The golden scepter struck the stone chair.

Damex stared at Perturabo with a small smile on his face, "Son, tell me your name."

"Perturabo."

"Is there any moral?"

"I'll give it meaning."

Damex's smile widened. "Perturabo, forgive my subject, perhaps at this moment, there is indeed no more effective way of persuasion than proving one's identity."

Perturabo looked at Damekus until the smirk couldn't be maintained.They all knew that Perturabo had won a victory, and they all knew that Perturabo would not be satisfied with one victory.

"You want to test me?"

"if you are willing to."

"What do I gain?" said Perturabo. "One effort in exchange for another gain. What are you willing to exchange with me?"

"It depends on the situation. I am not an unscrupulous person. If you pass the test, just ask, and I will not be stingy." Damex promised.

Perturabo nodded. "Tell me about the test."

Damex raised his hand and introduced at the same time: "We will provide you with the best casting table, the most outstanding bellows and quenching pool, the latest anvil and the best steel."

The door on the side of the hall opened with the king's raised hand, and someone had to carry the tools into the hall on the spot.

Perturabo's nails dug arcs in the palm of his hand.

+Look, you asked for it. + Morse crossed his legs on the rattan chair and said.

Perturabo finally turned around and glared at him, not wanting to know where Morse took out the wicker chair or how he made the whole room turn a blind eye to his slumped chair and rocking back and forth.

"I can't start forging now." The boy said bravely, but fortunately his self-confidence was well disguised. "As I said, I am not a descendant. I need to learn."

"How long will you study for?" Damex looked solemn.

"One day is enough."

(End of this chapter)