Warhammer 40: Shattered Steel Soul

Chapter 340 Sanguinius wants a gift
"I don't expect you to stay on my ship, Sanguinius. This insignificant battleship of mine is immersed in the poisonous blood of darkness and submerged in the eternal night of the netherworld. How can I retain the big ship?" The glorious wings of angels——"

After stopping Conrad Curze's endless words, Sanguinius released his wings, leaving the stiff Conrad where he was.

He retracted his wings, held the night ghost fleet's specialty blood wine, and took an elegant sip.

Today's material is different. The added blood component seems to be taken from some dark wrestling memories, full of the lightning wind on the skateboard, the poisonous crystal fragments that scratched the open wound on the cheek, and the moment of falling to death. of extreme pain and pleasure.

The memories that Curze inadvertently gifted him mapped out for Sanguinius the outlines of every moment in the universe, especially the dark places.

Of course, since the process of brewing the wine caused immeasurable damage to the blood cell raw materials, these sensory fragments in the memory could only satisfy Sanguinius' thirst for the darkness in the blood, but were not enough to provide more actual knowledge.

"You like our wine very much." Cozz adjusted the fur cushion on his chair, returned to his bone throne, picked up a notebook on the table next to him, and started flipping through it for the third time. He kept the notebook close to him throughout the day, making Sanguinius wonder what it was.

"Before I came to Baal, our blood wine consumption rate was never so high." Curze continued.

"Well," Sanguinius admitted, "it's like real blood has been added to it. It's very unique."

"Blood Angel," Curze said gently.

Curze immediately closed the notebook, without saying a word, and stared at Sanguinius fiercely. However, his usual terrifying eyes that announced the coming of night lost all their threatening power in front of the archangel of Baal.

"What kind of a good man do you think I am, Sanguinius, to engage in this mundane game of parting gifts? Go find your Horus Luperkar and play your family brother game, don't worry about it I."

"Blood wine recipe."

"No, I don't want such a big ship. My heirs will come with their glorious queen. I don't plan to change it." Sanguinius said with a smile, "Other than changing its name and slightly changing the decorations. One change.”

"Sanguinius, I would like to give you a little treasure to taste, but you will not accept its manufacturing process. You will be a glorious symbol of the empire. How can you allow such cruel things to be passed down in your holy bloodline?" Among them?”

"Oh, this is not a dream."

"This is a specialty of my city-state, what do you want it for?"

"You see, I am leaving your fleet to find Horus and my own heirs," Sanguinius leaned forward and flapped his wings slightly, "We are about to say goodbye. "

"What I'm trying to say is, is it possible for me to receive a farewell gift from you?"

"If you also want to take a Glory Queen from my hand, please forgive the Eighth Legion for being unable to do so."

"Olympia?" Here, the Queen of Glory of the Night Ghost Court was actually created by Olympia, which was unexpected by Sanguinius.

"Yes, remember to ask your astrologer to continue sending messages about prophecies." Conrad Coze was indifferent.

"I know."

Curze leaned back, and after a while, he reluctantly hissed: "My Nightshade has been docked in the dock at the Olympia Orbital Shipyard. This is the design specification."

Cozzi suddenly raised his head in surprise, and his hidden emotions could be seen through the pale and cold mask.

"But you received a gift from Perturabo." Sanguinius glanced at the notebook on Curze's lap.

"What gift do you want?" Cozz snorted.

"It tastes good."

"So, it seems that you think this is not a family gift, but just a normal transaction between legions." Sanguinius teased.

"What is that?" Sanguinius asked curiously, dragging a chair over and sitting down next to Curze.

"Perturabo took the time to complete the design during the Olympia Games." Coze regained his composure. "When the Iron Lord went to war, the shipyard complied with the requirements of the Primarch and completed its construction. It was put into the next step. Before the war, I will activate my flagship."

Sanguinius swung the wine in the cup, and the bright red liquid rose up the transparent curved cup wall, then slid down against the wall, leaving behind a transparent blood-colored residue.

"Your craft is so unique that it almost obscures its essence, but I can taste its roots," Sanguinius said. "It is the blood that flows within the body of sentient beings. The bloodline that the Emperor has given me , has the most sensitive genetic detection ability, which allows us to obtain the memory and emotions of the deceased by simply tasting the flesh and blood without eating the brain tissue of the deceased.”

"Because of this, our instability ranks at the forefront among many legions. And this glass of wine is enough to soothe the thirst in the blood." After many experiments, Sanguinius determined that, unintentionally, The creation of the Eighth Legion does have this surprising effect.

Curze stared at him. "It's too early." He murmured, "The person is wrong."

"Will I tell Horus about this later?" Sanguinius guessed what Conrad had said.

"That was the only time you were prepared to tell the Legion's genetic flaws." Coze slid down a little among the bones, slightly lost in thought. "Sanguinius. Blood Angels."

"For the Eighth Legion, this glass of wine is just a luxury after the war. But the Ninth Legion will need it." Sanguinius said with a solemn expression. "Systems, commandments, and inspirations can help my warriors get rid of their brutal nature with their own will, but if there are more realistic auxiliary tools, things will become easier."

"As the Lord of the Ninth Legion, I request your assistance, Konrad Curze."

Kurtz tilted his head, quietly letting his mind wander, and his eyes fell into space.

He glimpsed that rage again.

The angel's eyes were frozen, and the blood droplets stayed on his eyelashes, like red tears penetrating through the crown of thorns.

The sky burns in the eyes of the descendants of the Blood Angels, the bright red desire turns into charred coals of pure rage, for the desperate rage to melt in the blood, the blade swings in irrational madness, devouring itself before swallowing itself. There is no escape from everything around you.

"You haven't even met them yet," Coze said softly, "and you have already come to me to ask for a meeting gift for them."

"They are your nephews." Sanguinius raised his lips playfully.

Coates rapped his knuckles on the seat, "Saul Sahar, get a pen and paper."

"Will you write me the recipe?" Sanguinius said in surprise.

"Wake up, Blood Angel," Cozz lowered his head, "I only want to sign trade contracts with people with clear minds. Comoros will regularly supply alcohol to the Ninth Legion. Considering the state of Baal's property, I will relax the contract appropriately. Regulations. If you have nothing else to do today, discuss the main terms with me."

"No...wait, Commorragh?"

"Is there a problem?" Kurtz stared at the angel and said meaningfully.

"No," Sanguinius reluctantly maintained his smile, "Then, the language you usually speak with your subordinates is actually-"

"Eldar language."

Curze's company commander suddenly appeared from the darkness. The original body took the paper and pen and pulled the table next to the seat between the two of them, as if ready for contract negotiations.

Sanguinius put his hands on the stage, folded his wings, and tried to imitate the mantra that Curze often said.

The tip of the pen in Cozzi's hand poked into the center of the table.

Seconds later, the considerate Sahar brought his father new pen and paper.

Sanguinius repeated this sentence again, admiring the pale shock on the Midnight Angel's face with satisfaction, and kindly switched back to human language: "What does this mean?"

Conrad Curze looked at Sanguinius strangely: "Do you think... this is a synonym for 'go to hell'?"

"Isn't it?" Sanguinius frowned slightly, realizing that the truth was beyond his expectation.

Curze lowered his head and began to tremble all over. Then, a hint of laughter squeezed out from between his teeth, and then turned into uncontrollable belly laughter.

"What on earth does this mean?" Sanguinius used the tip of his wing to poke Curze's shoulder nervously as he lay on the table.

Curze stopped laughing for a moment, and with a chilling eeriness, his eyes traced the outline of Sanguinius and whispered softly.

"The false emperor is here."

(End of this chapter)