Warhammer 40: Shattered Steel Soul

Chapter 21 Clay Pots
Perturabo was Morse's first apprentice.

Morse had never thought of taking an apprentice before, because he hadn't left behind his identity as a seeker on his personal path; Perturabo was the only exception, and it was the first time Morse experienced the troubles of being a teacher. at.

He was not worried about whether he had become a qualified teacher. Obviously, regardless of whether he was qualified or not, Perturabo would not leave, especially before getting his sincere concern.

This was somewhat difficult, in fact, it was even Morse's own minor obsession.

Arousing enough emotion to brew genuine affection for a jerk kid wasn't a subject for him.

The sun had been hanging for a long time, and a large flock of white birds slowly flew through the air, cutting a low shadow over the heads of the crowd.

Morse stood in the crowd, wearing an ordinary dark blue robe over his black cloth in order to blend in with the crowd and observe his apprentice from another perspective.

He raised his head, without using his psychic powers or doing anything unnecessary. He just let his sight pass through the gaps in the crowd of countless people who were shaved, sweating, or wrapped in cloth, or whose hair hung down to their shoulders. , some wearing gold and silver crowns, or carrying foreign bird feathers on their heads, to see the two opposite figures on the high platform in the distance.

There were quite a few people on the high platform. Apart from Andos, who was sitting relaxed on the cushion, and Perturabo, who had a straight back and couldn’t see his face clearly, the rest of the tyrant’s family were also present. on either side of the king.

There are also some familiar faces, courtiers, soldiers, craftsmen, and foreign guests. They are all the people who appeared before the tyrant in Perturabo except the priests; there are also a few unfamiliar faces because of the distance. Also unable to see the faces, one can only see the innocuous figure of the middle-aged man, the reflective head with hair loss on the top, and a few words exchanged between each other from time to time.

The wide-winged white bird in the sky circled back again. Morse brushed away the distracting thoughts of plucking a few snow-white bird feathers and watched these natural creatures leave.

"There are a lot of vultures today." Someone on the side sighed, "Is it the great mind of God Isis?"

Morse stood idly with his arms folded across his chest.Hearing this, he turned his head to look at the man - because the crowd was surging, the man was squeezing him.

"Is that a good sign?" he asked, using an even tone that combined all the local accents, which brought a friendly smile to the man's face.

"Isis loves everyone. She protects craftsmen and sinners, as well as the undead, young children, maidens, and nobles."

"Sounds good." Morse said noncommittally. "Do white vultures come to Lokos often?"

"When the goddess Isis casts her gaze, they come. Alas, the fortress of Lokos protects us, so the goddess's white eagle often comes here. She loves the peaceful place." The man smiled on his chest He made a bird gesture. "As for the other birds, those big, carnivorous, ruthless birds, they often hover over the heads of other city-states."

Morse's eyes flicked over the frisky fellow. "Are you local?" he asked.

"My mother came from a city-state far away. But I grew up here, too - so I was surprised to hear that someone was going to challenge Prince Andos today, but then everyone said it was Perturabo My lord is coming, so I become very excited and can't help but throw away my work to watch."

The man grinned sheepishly and shook the handbag in his hand.

Morse changed to a more relaxed stance, no longer paying attention to the opponent's strong frame and normal distribution of calluses.

"Oh." He said coldly. "good."

During this short time, he got to know the stranger, found a way to describe him, understood his occupation, origin, status, ability; Interests such as the person's name, family and more personal details.

As for the knowledge about strangers, and these boring thoughts, they slipped out of his heart gently with his acquiescence, like some shining flowing water, they left smoothly and irretrievably. Boring residue.

And whenever Morse clearly heard the disappearance of this kind of spiritual emotion, he would spend a thousandth of a second to test whether he was disturbed by his rigid emotion, just like a patient observing himself from the perspective of a doctor disease.

Then he'd spend another thousandth of a second commenting on how little relapsed smugness still remained in his ridiculous mind.

The stranger poked his head beside him, "Did you also hear about their competition? Who do you think will win? Of course I hope our prince wins, but Lord Perturabo is also a very good person according to the rumors Besides, it is rumored that he is a child favored by the gods, so I..." He lowered his voice, afraid that other Lokos would hear, "I hope Lord Perturabo wins."

Morse raised a little interest: "Is Perturabo a good person in the rumors?"

"Everyone says he is a real genius, although he is far away from us. And a genius who is going to be a friend of Locus must be a good person." The stranger said, staring at Morse.

"People often say that every time Lord Perturabo seems to be angry, he will hold back his anger for some reason; he can't be oppressed by others instead of suppressing his anger spontaneously, right? Then his character It must be noble, too."

Morse turned his head and stared at the stranger until he wiped the perspiration from the sun's brow sheepishly with his free hand.

"Am I wrong?" said the stranger.

"Who knows."

The stranger was confused, he looked up at the big sun above his head, then at the competition that was about to start on the stage, wiped off his sweat, took out a sealed clay pot from the cloth bag in his hand, unsealed it, Just as he was about to drink, he suddenly thought of something and handed it to Morse again.

"It's too hot, besides water, I should also wear a straw hat to block the sun... Let alone, do you want some water?"

Morse laughed suddenly, not with feigned joy, but with a whim of the heart.

It's like seeing a new and happy thing suddenly popping out of all the affairs in the world arranged one by one, a colorful thing jumping out of all the same gray clothes, a green flower popping out of all the yellow leaves. The young leaves, the pale bouquet mingled with a bright red wildflower, were refreshingly comforting.

This flickering joy was caught by Morse, and then expressed in the form of laughter.

He took the jug and took a sip.The cool water is especially soothing on hot days.

Morse handed the jug back, and the stranger wiped the mouth of the jug, drank the water, and said in amazement, "I feel much cooler all over."

"Of course."

Suddenly, the surrounding crowd began to move again, like a group of geese or chickens with stones behind them, pushing and shoving forward in a chaotic manner.

Morse called to the stranger coolly: "It's about to begin."

The stranger's cheek twitched, and some small wrinkles formed crumpled undulations on his face.He carried the clay pot and followed Morse forward.

His hand wiped the top of the jar again.

　What kind of god is it that can produce more chapters over a long period of time...

　　
　
(End of this chapter)