Warhammer 40: Shattered Steel Soul

Chapter 33 Time flies (4k)

"It's been too long since I wrote a new story last time. I didn't know how to start writing. Even the line of inscription I'm writing now makes me hesitate, like holding a pen of iron and stone. shape and structure of each letter."

"I will spend my time to complete this new fable, not seeking to spread its name widely across the land, but just a rough record of worldly events."

"A child, a heavenly, man-made, and only child, with all his arrogance, timidity, hatred, and attachment, came to this remote world that had long been lost in the night and the wild, and collided with everything. He Destined to stay away from the unknown."

"He is the blade of silver, the bullet of the gun, and the armor of iron. His power will shake the mountains and the deep lakes. But will his sharp edges cut through the blood of the day, or pierce the throat of a mortal? His heart will melt In molten iron, or in the blazing fire of a reforged furnace?"

"I have seen towers collapse, arches have fallen, I have seen rivers evaporate, deep seas have surged, I have seen..."

Suddenly, someone violently slammed their fist on Morse's door. A drop of ink accumulated on the tip of the pen immediately fell to the smooth paper roll, and followed the capillary structure to form a puddle of ink.

Morse took a deep breath, and the moment Perturabo pushed the door open, the edge of the thick soft blanket on the floor turned up strangely, and the soles and toes of the boy's sandals were stuck into the top and bottom of the carpet respectively.

A moment later, there was a loud noise, and Perturabo and the carpet he overturned rolled up in vivid patterns on the floor.

The paper held by the boy flew outwards due to the conflict of air currents, then mysteriously turned and flew into the palm of a hand stretched out from the shelter of the wicker chair.

As Perturabo struggled to free himself from the carpet's trap, Morse read the new document.

His brows furrowed and lowered, and gradually degenerated into a blank expressionless face: "You'd better explain why you added gears, hinges and sharp saws to this sink for washing fingers before meals."

"There is something missing in the drawings..." Perturabo finally stood up. He was more concerned about his design than asking what evil spells were attached to this rug that concealed murderous intentions. "I think this item The design is intended as an automatic home meat grinder for processing meat that cannot be processed with a machete in family life.”

Morse turned over this drawing. The drawing on the next one was extremely complicated. Even he needed some time to identify what the finished product would look like.Perturabo leaned into his hand expectantly until Morse rolled up the drawing and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Humans need toy birds, not miniature storm craft masquerading as toy birds."

"Really?" Perturabo asked skeptically, "That's not what the army asked me to do."

"I'm just thinking about your army." Morse changed to the next drawing, "What about this one? Military helicopter landing platform?"

"It was just an open-air theatre," Perturabo said. "I will build it between the marketplace and the palace."

Morse gathered and folded the blueprint in his hand, and patted it in Perturabo's hand. "Okay, goodbye, I'm busy."

"What are you busy doing?" Perturabo poked his head out.

"Private business, please do not disturb."

After seeing off the boy, Morse continued to deal with his unfamiliar pen.

He propped his face up with one hand, looked away from a distance, and took in the thousands of emotions in the city.

Man works under the sun, the sun rises and the sun sets, coming from its source and going back, shining on the land.

The night goes, the night comes again, the day passes, and the day comes again.

He saw that the river flowed wherever it went, but the place where it went was not filled.The rain clouds rise into the sky, the wind blows upwards and downwards, the shadows of the clouds cover the dry land, and the water falls from the sky to the origin of the rivers.

He saw people repairing houses, making gardens, digging pools, and planting flowers and fruit trees outside and inside the city. These laid-out layouts came from both the future and the past, and were finalized after discussion by Perturabo.

He saw that there were cattle and sheep in the village, and there were growing trees and creatures and all things.When the builder went to the village, he saw that houses had been built, water conservancy projects had been repaired, roads were open, and people had made feasible roads in the mountains.

"The boy holds the hammer and the ax and opens up new places. His joy pleases those who please him. His labor gives wisdom, joy, and conscience. His work makes things happen. What he gathers and gathers and will gradually pass into the hands of those who toil with him."

"He broke off the blade in the furnace, and drew the plow out of the furnace."

"He brought more farming and cattle and sheep to this land, and placed joy in the hearts of the citizens. People should remember his name, just like the rising of the sun and the setting of the rain, and he also remembered his own. He It is his duty to rejoice in his management.”

"Locus is getting closer to his blueprint, and the things he manages are coming to fruition. The people he governs are his countless citizens."

"His stature increased, and from eating and drinking he left his low body. I saw him grow as the sun rises and the rain falls."

Morse put the pen on the wooden stand for the time being, and put the new paper to the light to dry.

The sun and the moon in rivers and rivers rotate endlessly, and the shadow of the sundial walks endlessly on the disk.The desktop on which he was lying down to write was cracked, which was the result of the sun and the wind.

Olympian snow and ice rolled down from the tallest peaks in some rare years and blew into the house through the lozenge of the window in front of him.At such a time, Perturabo might come to him if he were in the capital.

Morse didn't care about the cold, he only lit some firewood for Perturabo, the fire flickered bright red, and Perturabo told him about his new job recently.

He especially likes to show off his newly built theater. From the effect of sound transmission, the arrangement of seats, to the structure of the backstage, and the overall shape, if Perturabo wants to tell him one by one, he will tell him one by one. To refute, to try his best to be picky, to make the cheeks of the young man who is good at stature hot with him.

Perturabo's hair was cut short and long, and then settled into a shape that was neither too long nor too short, black hair that swelled like algae to frame his darkening ice-blue irises.

"Morse?" Perturabo opened the door and came in, followed by Andos, which was not common, but happened occasionally. "Andos and I will have a new competition, a demonstration with all craftsmen. Do you want to come up with your title?"

The prince smiled simply and said hello to Morse.

Time has made him grow older, and since he is not deeply worried, he does not look too old.

It is Harkon who is getting old. As the eldest prince fails to accept the iron crown of the tyrant, his wrinkles will increase day by day.

"What competition?" Morse asked.

"You should know more about the outside world." Perturabo said, "The palace of Lokos is about to be rebuilt, and the artisans of Lokos are here on request, and Andos and I are going to give them a demonstration. So we will compare again .”

"You still want to beat the prince?" Morse sorted out the papers on the desk, some scrolls were new, some scrolls were old; Perturabo said that he would remake the electronic data pads that were once used by humans, and Mo Ernes expressed sincere doubts about his ability to solder chips with his bare hands.

Perturabo said candidly: "Of course it is. The speed of Andos' progress is amazing."

Morse's hand froze for a brief moment in surprise.He looked at Andos, his attitude softening: "Have you agreed to compete with my apprentice again?"

Andos nodded, "My sister has already started preparing for our competition... I never thought that my progress could be so fast."

Morse waved the two of them out of his room. "I'll come up with questions for you later, anyone can pick them up."

He felt a little headache because of this. The endless competition between the two people had almost exhausted the proposition that he felt was suitable.

Morse exhaled softly and took the pen into his hand again.

Even if Perturabo really made the data tablet with his bare hands, he wouldn't use it: he didn't trust the tools Perturabo made, and the information would not be transmitted to the young man's terminal.

As the years turn, the most simple pen and his hand are familiar with each other.

In the old days, he used carbon black to make ink, or applied wax to wooden boards, carved characters on the wax board with the hard and thin tip of the engraving stylus, and used the flat side to smooth the wax surface where mistakes were made, and re-write.

Later he used parchment paper, wooden paper, quill pens, and rollerball pens.Now he records the story, going round and round and back to the days when the old law was done.

His pen stroked the paper, and the sun and the moon rolled forward again.

"He will let the righteous be righteous and the upright be upright. He will not allow the righteous to perish for their righteousness, nor the wicked to live long in their evil deeds."

"He made new laws, and his words were words that citizens wanted to hear."

"He occasionally curses people, and often he seeks to snare sinners; I am the only one who hears his curses, and those words ring in my ears, which makes my heart rejoice."

"I told him, I don't see anyone who is always good and never sins, and I don't see someone who is always upright but never foolish. Don't follow his whims in everything, or he will bury himself together."

"Their temple was built, but the citizens passed by without caution. They let their footsteps ring and spoke freely in the grand downstairs. I saw that the goods in the city increased, the gold and silver increased, the men and women who worked in the city increased, and there were more people. The Gentiles will multiply, and the rich Gentiles will multiply.”

"They heard of the gift of the youth, and they came one after another to test his power. So wise men came from foreign countries, princes from foreign countries, priests from foreign countries."

“Wisdom is better than strength, but strength is indispensable.”

"He wants the nations to eat and eat, and to rejoice in the same toil, and he wants to go to the nations and lands kindly and truly, and to make everything right, so he builds strongholds, chariots, and swords .He made the earth see strength."

Morse pinched his fingers. He was not satisfied with the current manuscript and might have to rewrite it in the future. Fortunately, he did not lack such a little time.

The water of the water clock falls drop by drop, walking endlessly with the sand of the hourglass.The needle of the sundial was broken long ago, and the dial was missing and charred. He had already told Perturabo not to test the gun in his room.

The rhombic windows are replaced with lattice windows, and the shutters can be closed to block the light by pulling the string.Recently, locusts have become fashionable to pull the shutters, and countless citizens repeatedly played with the structure until it was damaged.

Perturabo was about to promote a new type of glass, and the double-layer structure was unnecessary but novel.

People knocked on his door again, and Morse couldn't understand why they kept interacting with him while he was writing the scrolls.

The first to enter the door was Cariphon, followed by the taller Perturabo, the young man was half a forehead taller than his sister.The bread of Locus made him grow swiftly, like the wheat in the field, and the shoots in the field.

His hair is long, and he wears light armor and a crown on his forehead. He is more similar to the descendants of the gods in many Olympian myths.Morse would not speak directly to him, otherwise the big young man would spend several days and nights secretly annoyed.

"My army is training." Perturabo got straight to the point, "Although it is based on ancient books and my deduction, are you willing to come and watch?"

Morse dropped the pen, and the slender cylinder rolled quietly on the table, finally getting stuck in a corner not far away.

He leaned back in his wicker chair: "Shall I advise you?"

"Exactly," Perturabo said.

"I'm a craftsman, boy. I'm not omnipotent. When did you see me holding a weapon, stained with blood? I don't remember soldiers and horses."

Perturabo didn't insist either: "Then come and see my theater, Morse. I built it beautifully."

"Your theater is renovated every year, and Locus doesn't think you're too busy." Morse laughed, picked up the pen from the table, and rolled it between his fingers. "What am I going to do in your theater, and you want to see me sing a song with a high voice on the stage?"

Califon joined the conversation at the right time, her eyes still peaceful and clean: "The naming ceremony of Perturabo will be held next year, Morse. This is the traditional coming-of-age ceremony of Lokos. Since he is the master of our legion, he will Belong with us in Lokos."

"Naming ceremony?" Morse chewed on this word. Since Perturabo came to him, the young man must have agreed to participate in it.As for the venue, of course it will be the Perturabo Grand Theater next year.

He twirled his pen with interest, "Do you want to rename yourself?"

"No, I will make my name official. It will be Perturabo," said the young man.

Morse looked at him steadily.Many years ago, the young man declared in the hall that he wanted to make his name meaningful.Is he going to do it?
He moved his head slightly, his movements blurred between shaking his head and nodding. "The ceremony named after the goddess Hefonne, I will go to see it next year. As for now, let me keep something fresh. I have seen your grand theater thousands of times."

Then he suddenly thought of something, "Who will carve the goddess statue? Could it be Andos?"

Kalifeng nodded, "Brother is very willing to re-give his blessing."

Perturabo continued: "At that time I will also send out my soldiers and horses." He announced.

"A naming, a military parade?" Morse murmured, "By the way, isn't Halcon going to succeed yet?"

"Damex said that Harkon will make military exploits under my banner." Perturabo raised his head, the iron ornaments on his forehead glowing brightly.He immediately showed a little disdain, "I won't let him die."

"Alright, it's a good thing."

Morse looked out the window, knowing that the sound of cannons would echo in the mountains.His pen landed on the scroll, and the dark ink left an imprint.

"Those who are wise may not be rewarded, those who are sensible may not be victorious, and those who are in command may not be happy."

"However, the kingdom will rise, just as the wind will carry the wheat seeds, and the clouds will carry the raindrops. The light is good, the night is good, and the blessing is good, so he will forget sorrow, overcome evil, and do good things."

"I saw time again, and everything was turning. I saw birds, swords, and the earth again."

Morse stopped writing, and outside the window, ceremonies and music celebrating Perturabo's coming of age and naming ceremony sounded from all directions.

He listened to the flute, harp, and reed until Perturabo knocked at his door.His long hair and black clothes are automatically clean.

Flipping the scroll, he saw that the years are fleeting.

(End of this chapter)