Warhammer 40: Shattered Steel Soul

Chapter 51 The storm subsides
+ Who is that, Your Majesty. +
+ number four.He grows up very fast. +
+ You clearly know exactly who I am asking.That shadow, that nothingness, a being you never mentioned, a person you haven't contacted for more than five thousand years. +
+Are you reminding me that I need to be wary of him again, Malcador? +
+I just want to know, who makes you look old. +
The golden light dissipated, revealing dark eyes deeply embedded in a weather-beaten face.The emperor took one of the cards in his hand and put it on the table.

This playing card is very old, and the pattern on the back has faded to the point where it is difficult to recognize, and only the outline of a collapsed city wall can be seen vaguely.

The Emperor silently pushed the cards into the center of the low table.Malcador put down his own cards, turned the cards for the Emperor, and let out a sigh.

+This is already your third trump card, Your Majesty.You can't do this. +
The Emperor stood still for a moment, seeming to be thinking, or perhaps examining the pile of cards on the low table.

Then he took out the fourth king from the deck of cards.

-

Morse believed that Perturabo had as many doubts about him as he had about the "young man."

So he strikes first.

"What are you wearing, Perturabo?" He couldn't bear to look directly away from the huge young man, refusing to think about the improvised variegated fabric on the body of this big man who had suddenly grown to more than two meters tall , whether it is also drawn from military tarpaulins and part of the palace curtains.

Perturabo opened his mouth for a rare moment, clearly showing his shock.

He squeezed into the room through the collapsed door, blankly looking at the mess on the ground, and finally his eyes stopped on Morse. The new confusion in his ice-like blue eyes even overshadowed the eagerness and sadness.

"Are you Morse?" he asked hesitantly. "Where's your... head?"

Morse pulled up the black linen pocket, completely covering the exposed nothingness.

"Don't ask, it's not important. Your outfit challenged my aesthetic bottom line. You are wearing this printed tablecloth to accept the surrender of the Caldis?"

"I asked Callifon to accept the surrender." Perturabo's expression changed, obviously recalling all the embarrassments that occurred after he suddenly started to grow again that day, such as breaking his armor.

Then, someone gently patted Perturabo's back as he was blocking the door, and a clear female voice sounded outside the door: "I'm here, please give way."

After Perturabo gave up his position, Callifon squeezed into the room with a smile.

Her eyes fell on the mutilated corpses in the room, her feet suddenly became weak, and she fell between the rocks and broken porcelain.

"Caliphon..." Perturabo said hesitantly.

The princess stared blankly at her unrecognizable relative, trembling all over.Then she stretched out her hand to Perturabo, and forced out a few weak words: "Give me a hand, Abo."

Perturabo lifted her up.Kalifeng wanted to thank her, but the sudden exhaustion of energy made her lose her strength.She leaned against the gold-leaf-peeling wall as if in a nightmare.

Soon, Carliphon stood up straight again.

"I'll stay a little longer, Perturabo. You go to Mr. Morse first."

Locus' daughter spoke quietly, with a sad smile on her face. "Looks like you wish, I should wear the iron crown."

+ Let's go out. + Morse said.

Without his prompting, Perturabo consciously stooped out of the gate, and Morse floated through the wall, following Perturabo.

The young man who had grown much taller in the past few days lowered his head and looked at the head of the man in black robe.

He finally defeated Morse in height, but there was no joy on Perturabo's face.

This is not pretending to be indifferent, but that he no longer needs a little innocuous height to prove his dignity.

They walked in a direction with fewer people, even though no one was going out on Lokos Street.

The disaster a few days ago made everyone terrified. The collapsed clock tower and the terrible night were regarded as ominous signs, and the people who fell to the ground and died suddenly were the precursors of the disaster.

The entire Lokos was filled with an atmosphere of panic. At this time, Perturabo's triumph was like a shot of strong medicine, injecting a stabilizing factor into Lokos.

They came to the city wall, went up to the tower, looked at the mountains and trees outside the city, and the wisps of peaceful gray smoke rising from the scattered villages.

"If you have a question, ask."

Perturabo breathed out, he had too many questions piling up in his mind.He had just recovered an endless treasure trove of knowledge, but he was frustrated and even frustrated to find that this knowledge could not solve any of his problems.

"Are you... okay?" He chose to start asking the question from the craftsman himself.

"Do I look okay?"

Morse opens with irony, as always, but this time with more deliberate nonchalance.He doesn't want to be ignored, so he won't pretend to be okay.

"Obviously I've lost my body. Do you want a void to tell you that it's in good health? Would you believe me if I told you, Perturabo?"

This straightforward confession directly blocked the worries that were about to overflow in Perturabo's heart.

He reflected on his hesitations and meaningless questions with some annoyance, and the heaviness accumulated in his heart also dissipated a lot without him noticing.

Perturabo cleared his throat.

"How are you, Morse?"

"My original state." Morse said, "If you come back a week later, you will see the body you are familiar with. You fight too fast."

"You...are not human?" Perturabo asked carefully.

"Did I say I'm human?"

Perturabo choked, his eyes rolling over Morse's current form.

In fact, he seemed more interested in asking if Morse was dead.

"Can others see you?"

"Unless psionics are strong. I believe I don't need to explain what psionics are."

Perturabo said "Oh", "Califon didn't see you just now."

Morse floated up, keeping his head at the same height as Perturabo's: "Obviously."

Perturabo touched the edge of the city wall with one hand. The blood of the person holding the key to the city gate dried into brown marks, like an extra piece of rust on the stone.

"What happened to Lokos?" He stared at the blood stain, his expression as calm as steel, "Many people died. A bell tower collapsed. And you... became like this."

"I can only speculate. Your creator should have obtained some rather rare resources many years ago. Now several bandits have come to his door to steal his things. Whether it is the oath-breaking country you attacked or the traitor Harkon , they are just pawns driven by bandits."

Perturabo lowered his hand, keeping his fingers away from the walls of Locus.

"These deaths happen because of me." He looked at Morse as he said this, the huge young man trying to control the fluctuations in his heart.

"Would you like me to enlighten you?" Morse said.

Perturabo closed his eyes forcefully, changed the subject, and said in a hoarse voice, "You knew my Creator before? He and you..."

"Look far away, Perturabo. Instead of looking back at your past." Morse interrupted.

"But who is he?" Perturabo repeated in a low voice.

Morse snorted. "Instead of thinking about who he is, you might as well start planning the reconstruction of Lokos now. This will be a good opportunity to build infrastructure on a large scale, especially when Calliphon is about to ascend the throne and it's time for major construction."

"As for that person, according to his personality, maybe you will be able to see him soon."

He smiled, "Perturabo, if I had known earlier that he was the craftsman who created you, I should have been stricter with you."

After saying that, Morse turned around from the tower.Perturabo tried to hold him, but of course his hand passed through nothingness.

This made his fingertips twitch uncontrollably for a moment.

"Don't go yet, Morse," cried Perturabo.

"You want me to stand with you a little longer?" Morse expressed surprise in a rising tone.

Then he returned to Perturabo. "Okay."

The entire administrative system in the city returned to normal after a nearly seven-day shutdown. After the panic, people have to be busy again.

The damage to the city was not serious, but the destroyed palace needed to be rebuilt, and the tyrant's iron crown also needed to be urgently rebuilt by craftsmen.There is not much time left for citizens to rest in fear, people need to stay alive.

The wind on the field was blowing quietly, and gradually stopped after a while.

The snow-capped mountains of Televos on the horizon remain unchanged all year round.No matter how everything changes in Olympia, the snow-capped mountains always reflect the white sky, which is almost an eternity.

After a while, Morse said: "Let's go."

Perturabo nodded. "Let's go."

(End of this chapter)