Warhammer 40: Shattered Steel Soul

Chapter 48 So He Left
Morse withdrew his will from where Perturabo was, his condition no longer allowing him to be distracted.

The sharp dagger tore through the black cloth covering the palm, and the material woven from solid thread and hemp was cut off one after another under the concept of sharpness beyond the ordinary world, and the layers were loosely peeled off, revealing what was really pierced by the dagger.

A void.

More black bandages disintegrated from the surface of his arms, scattered on the damp ground.

The contents wrapped in the black robe seemed to have disappeared out of thin air, or perhaps never existed.

Morse closed his eyes, and the pitch-black fabric that lost its support collapsed inwards, following the call of gravity, fell to the floor and crumpled into a pile of carbon black, soaked in the blood of the evil thing.

What fell on the top of the cloth was the exquisite little dagger, which seemed to tell everyone of the feat it had accomplished in an extremely mocking way.

Then, a figure that cannot be observed in the real universe opened its eyes and stepped out of its false body.

Every piece of lost camouflage represents more exposure of the essence, from fingers to shoulders, from soles of feet to chest, the golden mantra propped up a nothingness shaped like a human body.

Every morsel of food and drink he ever took turned into nothingness, and every drop of blood he shed was an illusion created by runes.

Stripping off the robes and bandages covering his whole body, and terminating the simulation and depiction of his face, what remains now is his remaining authentic core.

Morse tried to smile. He felt that the position of his head should have fluctuated a little.

Usually he doesn't just exist in this form, unless he has to.

This is not because he is particularly dissatisfied with the inhuman state, but this appearance is a bit rough and unpolished compared to the body he once had.

He raised his left hand, and countless flowing mantras reflected golden light under different lighting conditions, outlining his general appearance.

Even the most inconspicuous piece of incantation less than an inch long is a supreme command that directly communicates the basic rules of the real universe.

incantation.

This is how runes are called, a system distinct from psionics that directly shakes the very foundations of reality.

As for his right hand, that part of the stored curse was lost behind the curtain about fifteen thousand years ago; when he returned to his original form, his right hand also ceased to exist for the time being.

Thinking of related events, he had to mention a certain bandit that he didn't even know how to describe.After connecting that incident with Perturabo's existence, Morse found that he had finally unintentionally figured out what mysterious technology that man was tinkering with back then.

The guy never told anyone what he wanted to do.

When he stepped on the ground, the whole scene changed further, and the room he was in turned into a small gold and silver cabin, and outside the cabin was a vast ocean of endless whirling colors.

In the deep and endless space, there are endless things devouring and iterating each other every minute and every second. The fixed time and space, and even the conventional laws of physics are meaningless here, only chaos and eternity.

He stepped out of the cabin, a magnificent sail of mammalian hide flying above his head.The boat was ups and downs, and from time to time, a storm mixed with contemptuous and sweet laughter came to his face, telling him the direction of the boat.

Morse simply sat down and let the waves of subspace guide the boat.

Then, a short half-section of a small wooden arrow was caught on the board of the boat by the waves and landed in front of Morse.What followed was a vague conversation.

"This is my arrow, I hit the deer!"

"Our arrows are exactly the same, don't lie, brother, this is my deer."

"But I carved a mark on the arrow shaft..."

Morse picked up the broken arrow and found a horizontal mark on the wooden pole near the arrow sword.The curse climbed from his hollow skin to the broken arrow, annihilating it instantly.

He heard the high-pitched laughter grow harsher, and a great blue-feathered bird flew to the top of the mast, chirping a hideous laugh.

A string of runes flew up, scorching the feathers of the big bird, and electrocuting it so that it fell headlong back into the ocean.

The second thing that flew onto the board was a piece of iron, the sound floating on it became clearer, and some hazy reflections were intercepted from time and space, stored, and re-reflected at this time.

Those rather illusory things passed through truth, illusion and reality, and spanned tens of thousands of years to catch Morse again. He had another name back then.

For his first forge, some psionic powers were used to control the temperature of the furnace.With no mentor, no companions, his older brother had other things to do—he was being educated by a mentor who came from afar, the education of Jiancheng.

He himself studied all the changes of steel and listened to the sound of fire.Of course his experiment failed, and the iron sword broke into several deformed pieces of iron.He could hear his own sighs and distress.

When he held the failed piece and was about to use spiritual energy to secretly crush it into small balls and throw it away, a cold and magnificent force supported the failed iron piece.

A long and narrow beam of light leaked through the crack of the opened door, piercing into the dimly lit room after the fire was extinguished.The wind comes from outside the door, bringing the breath of forest trees and cold sun.

The Illusion ends there abruptly, and the Warp is incapable of simulating what is not theirs.Morse shrugged his shoulders, picked up the broken pieces of iron, and threw the phantom back into the depths of the sea.

He stood up and supported the side of the boat with one hand.

The next vision no longer relies on something concrete, nor is it so friendly.

He saw his own body - the first and only one - lying in the ditch of the half-built city, his dim eyes still open, looking at the great city.The city was to be named after his brother, and the reason for his defeat in the brotherly fight could only be described as absurd.

The heavy rain blew over the masonry and the eagle emblem on the masonry poured into the canal. Someone walked towards him from the depths of the rain curtain, and the flash of lightning made the entire scene look grim and pale.

The changing image condensed into a blue bird feather and fell on his shoulder, delivering its words before being destroyed: "Your death has happened long ago... How can you still be a living person in peace? You There is no way to live like this... do you know what happened next?"

Morse impatiently tossed a handful of feathered ashes back into the sea.

He just lived a long time, and it was not the degenerative disease of the central nervous system that caused progressive cognitive function impairment and behavioral impairment.

“He reshapes my inner being with lightning, masonry, and wind and thunder, sustains me with the spirit of sorrow and green olives, washes me and makes me whiter than snow.”

"He made my skin out of the dust of the ground, and filled my flesh with curses."

"My spirit and the incantation are one. I am a dead man, a lasting monument, and a living book."

He is a collection of spells, a living memory.

Morse looked at his missing right arm.

When he was under the rocks of Lupacaglia, assisting the Fire Thief to open and close the gates to the nightmare and immaterial realms, and to go deep into the sea of ​​gods that destroyed chaos and escape, part of the curse was in Permanently lost while in use, taking all associated memories with it.

He still doesn't know what commands he lost to manipulate reality back then, there is only one thing that he probably won't forget in ten thousand years.

And he didn't even know whether he should describe it as "this incident will be remembered until the end of his life." After all, he had never lived again since his first death.

"Your duties are temporarily over."

Moro's wind blows away, and the incandescent flames drift away.There was scorching blood and distant thunder in the voice of the prethinker, the last cold revelation.

"You should leave."

So he left—

So he left.

Morse jumped out of the boat and stepped on the surface of the turbulent waves. The tide receded immediately, leaving only a chaotic golden sandy plain.Looking down at his feet through his transparent body, every grain of yellow sand is the most precious and dazzling array of gold coins.Gold and jewels are piled up like a mountain, and the whole piece of blue sapphire reflects endless gorgeous streamers.

He has reached the brink of bliss.

Morse raised his left hand and spelled a big sword out of the sea of ​​chaos.Then he traveled to the depths of gold.

(End of this chapter)