Warhammer 40: Shattered Steel Soul

Chapter 53 Snow on Mount Telefus
"It's not that I can't get used to a ceremony," he said. "On the contrary, I'm so used to it that I get bored."

"And I invited you," said the visitor.

"You've done a great job of giving me a great excuse to get out of the hustle and bustle. I'm just wondering how you found me though."

"The existence of Ni is very eye-catching, unlike any creature in Olympia."

"Although the existence of any two creatures has achieved different conditions, I can understand your semantics."

The person in black cloth walked into the cave whose walls were inlaid with crystals, and sat down on the rock as a seat.

He pulled back the rag that served as a makeshift hood.In the exposed void, there are golden runes that are uncertain in their civilization and extinction, echoing the flickering of crystals on the stone wall.

The young man in golden robes placed the long staff beside the stone bench, glanced at the human figure composed of runes, and then looked away.The laurel ring surrounding the silver hair thus reflects a swaying light.

There was a low table between the two of them, with a small amount of dust falling from the top of the cave falling on the edge of the table. The tabletop showed a level of cleanliness that had been recently used.

The cards are scattered in the corners of the table, overlapping and accumulating. The patterns on the backs of the cards cover each other. Recognizable images include some collapsed towers, falling lightning, dead fighters and other images.

As for the center of the table, there is room for some simple meals: a glass of wine, and some fermented bread.

The man in black stretched out his left hand, picked up the wine glass, stared at it for a moment, and took a sip.Wine disappears into nothingness.

"This is an expensive treat," he said, "and I guess he didn't tell you enough information. For example, I am not a Christian. How do I call you?"

"The handprinter. If you agree." The young man in the golden robe said solemnly.

"Then you can call me by my name."

"Morse?"

"Morse." The transparent nothingness gradually covered with a layer of light color, and Morse assumed his form. "It sounds like you heard who I am from the Olympians."

"At the crowning ceremony, everyone's voice was clear enough, even though they seemed to have doubts about your appearance."

"If they found by chance in the bell tower the husk I temporarily left behind when I came here, there would be more questions."

"Will they?"

"It's a pity that they will subconsciously ignore that clock tower."

The handprinter no longer took his eyes off Morse, his scrutiny was hidden behind an unchanging expression, and reflected an unconcealable curiosity.

"Your Majesty tells me you are a trustworthy man, an old friend," said the stamper.

"Your Majesty?" Morse repeated softly. "He has become emperor again. He asked you to come to me?"

"With your torch as our guide, we are on our way to Olympia. The Emperor has given orders to hasten our march."

"Then before he arrives, we might as well talk about some light topics. Don't make the atmosphere as serious as solidified red wax." Morse put down his wine glass and turned over the cards on the table. "There seems to be something wrong with this card."

"There are four kings in it. We can reprint a deck of cards."

"It's okay, can you play blackjack?" Morse asked.

"meeting."

"There is no dealer, just play as you please."

Morse gathered the cards on the table with one hand, the runes jumped, and the cards automatically began to jump and shuffle. "Do you like playing cards, Handprinter?"

"Your Majesty and I have discussed the card game of Gutera, but I am not good at it." The palmer said humbly.

"It's hard to imagine a psyker as good as you not being good at simple card tricks."

"But my opponent can often draw A to K of the same color."

Morse smiled. "Then it's not your fault - I'll take one first, seven. Next, three. Stand."

"You're almost giving me the win," said the Handprinter. "Eight, three, six."

"When did you meet him?" Morse tapped the table, and on a scoreboard that appeared out of thin air, he marked a vertical line for the handprinter.

"Not long ago," said the person holding the seal, "a few thousand years ago."

"He's been emperor for thousands of years? Nine, four, eight. I get one point."

The handprinter looked at the cards on the table and began to draw. "It doesn't take thousands of years to win the Unification War. Four, five, seven, three, stand."

Morse nodded. "Sharp. Then I'll call him the Emperor, too, unless he's using a more humane name. Does he have one?"

"Not yet." The handprinter said.

"Nine, seven, eight. Boom—you've got another point, Pamper. You're a fine man."

"It's just luck, it doesn't prove anything."

"Honesty at the game of cards is your strength. Your patience with the Emperor is something to behold," said Morse. "I believe you are indispensable to him. What is your duty?"

The handprinter stood still for a moment and stopped taking cards. "Nine, nine, five, you get one point too. I'm his prime minister now."

Morse's hand shook and the cards almost fell from his fingers.

"You are a true warrior, Sealbearer. I have grown a true admiration for you."

The person holding the seal did not refuse and accepted Morse's praise calmly.

He smiled tiredly. "And you?"

"I may be better at doing odd jobs." Morse said, turning his head to look outside the cave.

The outside world of this illusory land is a vast sea of ​​golden light, with countless spells flowing and shining from far or near, scorching hot and dazzling.

The power of darkness and power is firmly blocked. As long as Morse does not leave for a day, he is sure to fix the curtain that blocks the vast ocean for a long time.Even if he leaves this place, the curse imprint left behind can still protect thousands of creatures in Olympia for a long time.

The time he stayed here was neither long nor short, traveling from Terra on a merchant ship took up quite a long time in the endless journey, and as the warp space storm raged around the stars in the Milky Way, his footsteps stopped at one point. The planet he is most familiar with.

Over the course of thousands of years, Olympia's civilization rose and fell several times. The spiral of history repeatedly rose and fell back, and the pace of retreat was much faster than the rise.

He watched all this from anywhere, in the mountains and forests, in the city, and on the battlefield.It rains, the wind blows, things get moldy and rotten, new sprouts are found on some olive trees.He passed through these places and most of the time he didn't even bother to make any historical records.

Sometimes he knows this attitude is bad for him, but he doesn't care.The prosperous civilization turned into decay in his eyes, and all he could grasp was boredom.

For thousands of years, he encountered endless failures and setbacks every time he picked up the carving tool. The moment he picked up the pen, he often knew that he could not put enough emotion into the odes and epics.And he was not a quitter before.

But now it's all coming to an end.Morse thought.Calliphon's crowning would be the last ovation he would receive.

No matter who he follows or continues to walk alone, he will not stay.

The spell that he placed recently may be the only living expenses he will leave to Olympia.

"But sometimes I feel that coming to Olympia is the rare right decision in my life." Morse said. "Eight, seven. Suspension."

"Because of Perturabo?" asked the Handprinter.

　One update today, busy ing
　　
　
(End of this chapter)