How can a retired savior be considered retired if his price drops to 40,000?

Chapter 300 Li Gui and Li Kui

"How long have we been stuck here?" asked a bored Akuldona.

"I don't know." Santo answered. In the subspace environment, the irregular numbers on the timer made no sense - it was not the timer's problem, Santo was sure they were all intact, but the two timers in his power armor, the Akuldona power armor, and the "Prototype No. 1" had slightly different readings on each. Science that followed the laws of physics was almost meaningless in the tide of the Supreme Heaven.

"If you ask me subjectively," Akurdona continued nonchalantly, "I think we've been stranded for about three Terran days."

Santo understood the implication, but he still responded, “I don’t know. Our subjective feelings have no meaning in the current environment.”

"At least it's more meaningful than the numbers jumping back and forth on the timer," Akurdona retorted. "It's necessary to have a rough grasp of time no matter where you are."

"If we really can't fix this thing, then there's no need." Santo retorted, "Don't think I don't know why you calculate time. We don't even need to really repair this thing - this is the subspace, and we are no longer a purely material existence. As long as I copy its data storage unit and ensure that the experimental data is not lost, we can rely on our instincts to follow the guidance of the Astronomican and leave this predicament."

Akurdona sighed and turned his gaze to the direct cause of the dilemma: the only conscious creature present who still relied on actual biological structures rather than the accumulation of souls, ether and concepts to survive; the one who looked like his genetic father and gave him similar feelings; the one who sat on a lonely stone a little way away, thinking about something in front of a caramel-colored skull candy in his hand.

"What a sin Fabius has committed..." This low sigh slipped out of his lips unconsciously, and then, Santo's slightly dissatisfied voice sounded on the side:
"Pay attention, he can hear you." The Iron Hand's dissatisfaction did not seem to be due to Akuldona's sentimentality, because his next sentence was almost directed to the person who did not join the conversation: "If his physiological functions are consistent with the Primarch."

This judgment was soon proved to be correct, because after the man in the distance finished speaking, he quickly came out of his thoughts, raised his head, and glared in the direction of the Astartes.

Akurdona sighed again.

"I am very grateful to you, Gabriel." The Sword Master among the Emperor's Children racked his brains and tried to use his limited emotional intelligence to "solve" the problem at hand. "I know you don't agree with my decision to bring him back, but you are still willing to repair this shuttle for this decision."

"I still insist that we can just leave him here and go back by ourselves." Santo made a statement that contradicted his current actions. "The reason I am still trying to repair it is that I must find out the specific cause of the failure of the imaginary engine, and by the way, find the security loophole that allowed the 'something' called 'Tezcatlipoca' to quietly drill into the hull. During the research and development stage of a device, tracing the source of the failed data is often also very important."

"I understand your subtle hostility towards me." The man in the ornate armor that was of no practical use stood up and said loudly, "Since this is essentially a test that the man who calls himself 'Tezcatlipoca' has asked me alone, I can certainly complete it alone-"

“—but you don’t even have a decent sword!” Akuldona screamed before he finished speaking, “and we have no idea what kind of challenge we will face next!”

"That doesn't matter." The other party retorted, "The real 'Fulgrim' should be able to perfectly deal with all emergencies without the support of intelligence. I will successfully complete this so-called 'trial' and prove to everyone that I am worthy of the title of 'Purple Phoenix'!"

Gabriel rolled his eyes clearly with his one good eye and turned to complain to Akurdona, "Well, he didn't listen to a word you said to him before."

Unfortunately, Akuldona ignored him. The Emperor's Child's attention was still on the man who was cloned based on his Primarch's template. "That's not how it works! You are just putting yourself in danger by taking a gamble!"

"Perhaps so, but if this can prove my identity and qualifications to you——"

"What on earth are you trying to prove!" Akultuna cried in despair. "By the throne, you said you had to prove yourself worthy of the name 'Fulgrim', but that's just a name! The real Fulgrim never had to prove that he was called that name! Don't you realize? From the moment you said that, you have realized that you are not 'Fulgrim' at all!"

This straightforward statement was like a thunderbolt from the blue sky, causing the color to fade from Fulgrim's flawless face, and he stood there for a moment. No one knew what kind of turmoil had been stirred up in his heart by this, and Santo did not care about it at all. He just said to the Emperor's Child beside him again: "Well done. But where did you learn this argument from?"

Akurdona turned around and glared at the other person before answering, "I heard it when I was chatting with Fujimaru Ritsuka."

Then, he raised his head and looked in the direction of the clone, muttering to himself a little worriedly: "Did I say something a little too harsh?"

"If you ask me, you should just punch him in the face," Santo said mercilessly. "I understand that you will be particularly tolerant of him because of his face, but please also understand that I will be particularly mean to him because of his face."

Akuldona instinctively wanted to refute something, but he opened his mouth, but in the end he couldn't pour out any meaningful words from his stomach - except for a dry "It's not like that", he couldn't say anything. During this period of time, a series of thinking iterations had obviously occurred in the clone's original brain. His gray face did not recover, but he still asked Akuldona: "If I am not 'Fulgrim', then who am I?"

Perhaps if someone else were here, he or she would be able to give a more gentle and tactful answer, but Akuldona couldn't do it. This self-evident question to him blocked the Emperor's child's language center for a moment, and then he successfully answered: "How should I know, you are you!"

At the same time, he began to try to kick Santo's mechanical legs inconspicuously, to make a hint of "I can't talk about philosophy, help me quickly, brother." The latter sighed helplessly, closed the inspection hatch of "Prototype No. 1", got up from the ground, and announced:
"Let's try again." He had no intention of getting involved in the family ethics drama of the Emperor's children, so he chose to change the subject for them. "If the organization still cannot successfully enter the virtual number submerged state this time, it means that the problem should be that the operating environment is not compatible. I may have to spend some time collecting and comparing environmental data again for debugging. The worst result may be to rewrite the entire operating system of the Pondering Array."

He pinched his waist and turned around, with his back to the square "Prototype No. 1", and said to the other two purple-gold men: "In other words, if you fail this time, Akuldona, you really have to consider wandering around in this wasteland and looking for supplies that can be used by living people. Although I have doubts about whether there is absolutely safe food and water in the current environment." The Emperor's Son was greatly surprised: "How do you know I am thinking about this?"

Santo didn't bother to talk to him, and threw down a sentence "Isn't this why you pay attention to time?" and went into the cockpit. It turned out that the captain of the Iron Hands did not succeed in saving Akuldona from the dilemma of philosophical problems. After the hatch was completely closed, Akuldona immediately found that he was the only one facing Fulgrim's clone.

At this moment, his longing for Fujimaru Ritsuka was particularly strong.
-
"You have read the Nostramo Grimoire." Conrad Curze's whispers, like a venomous snake, hissed in the darkness. "That's something that's easy to see. I admit that you have learned well, but unfortunately, not well enough."

The man he was talking to was fixed to a stake. Harkon the World-Taker was undoubtedly still alive, but in a way that he himself did not want. This general under Abaddon the Great Reaver was no longer able to make his speech to anyone - his vocal cords had been physically destroyed by the cruel punishment, his ribs had been turned open, and his organs, which had been slightly mutated after being blessed by Chaos, were directly exposed to the air that the High Heaven did not know whether it actually existed. They were weakly beating under the instinct of bioelectricity, barely maintaining his life that had become a living annotation of a chapter in the Nostramo Grimoire.

If it weren't for the blessing of Chaos, Hakon would have died hours ago under the cruel and varied tortures of the Night Lords Astartes. But it is not known whether it is a blessing or a curse, he is still alive, so the Night Children who realized something was wrong presented him to the Night Lord in this form of being impaled on a pillar, and as soon as the latter met him, he tore out the captive's vocal cords with his own hands without any explanation.

"My descendants and the crow cubs may want to dig something out of you." Curze acted very happy. Perhaps the fear and confusion in the prisoner's eyes, which were so strong that they were almost tangible, amused him very well. "But I don't need you to speak. You just stay there and be my audience. I haven't had the opportunity to do this for a while, so you'd better listen to me quietly."

From the depths of darkness came the sound of feathers rubbing against each other. Haken had no idea what was happening. His bloody neck had lost all feeling except pain. He could not turn his head which was fixed in place. The view he could get by moving his eyes was very limited. He could only see the two solemn and terrifying statues of the Midnight Lords standing on his left and right.

Now, even the pain was gradually becoming numb, and Haken didn't know whether he should be relieved or panic. No matter what, it was useless to him. He couldn't even beg anyone around him to give him a quick death.

A slight sound of footsteps lingered around Hakkon. Rather than "hearing", it was more like a whisper of favor from the Warp to him after receiving the blessing. The footsteps of the Lord of Night in the darkness were no louder than the falling night. Even the Leman Ear of the Astartes could not capture the exact vibration in the material world.

"The naval battles of the past two years have been very interesting. You are a good commander." Curze, who was very interested, did not stop talking. "Although you undoubtedly followed the wrong master, and you showed foolish recklessness and assumptions when you were trying to stop a chariot with your arms, but for an Astartes, you still fought well. At least in comparison, the samples I have are enough for me to draw such a conclusion."

Harken realized that the two Night Lords beside him had tensed up. Curze was praising his command ability in a roundabout way to scold his own offspring for being incompetent - perhaps only the Nostramo people who spoke in a more advanced context ten thousand years ago could understand this roundabout rebuke, but the Night Lords did not need to understand. Somehow, at this distance, they could instinctively sense the dissatisfaction of their genetic father.

Fortunately, Curze did not dwell on this topic for too long: "The flow of time in the warp is strange and irregular." He said, "I think we have been fighting for about two Terran years. This has also been successfully agreed upon in my fleet. I wonder what your method of timekeeping says?"

According to the Terran calendar, it was two years, four months, fifteen days and twenty-one hours. The above numbers appeared in Haken's mind instinctively. At least, at the moment when he was rushed into the bridge by the boarding team, he calculated the time silently in his heart.

He couldn't speak, but Curze seemed to have heard something. The voice in the dark chuckled and said "I understand", and then a pale face came closer to Harken's eyes.

Haken, who was fixed on the stake, had no eyelids, so he could not escape the gaze of the dark eyes of the Night Haunter, which seemed to lock the soul, by simply closing his eyes. The only light source he had was the natural light emitted by the eyepieces of the two Astartes masks around him, but it was enough for his eyes to confirm the outline of the other party at such a close distance.

This is a Primarch, no doubt about it. The size and the features may be faked, but the natural elegance cannot. That was Hakon's first thought, and then he realized: he could hear what I was thinking.

After these two thoughts appeared in his mind, which was confused by the torture, he soon felt even more desperate. At this moment, Coze showed a malicious sense of humor:
"Don't think like that. Be optimistic. After all, your current situation is as bad as it can be. Nothing can make it worse."

Actually, there are. Haken thought uncontrollably, and then immediately focused his mind and moved his thoughts away from those "more terrible consequences" to prevent the Primarch of the Night Lords from drawing new inspiration from his thoughts in an ingenious way.

“Don’t be so conceited.” Curze’s pale face disappeared from his sight, and the Primarch chuckled again after shrinking back into the darkness. “But this makes me realize that you still have a clear and firm will. This is very interesting.”

The Night Lord to Harkon's left shifted uncomfortably. "We certainly haven't been lazy on this matter, my lord."

"I can see that." Koz's voice drifted away, and a little echo floated in the vast darkness that had no end. "Who said that so far, this is the only thing you can consciously devote 120% of your energy to. Torturing others should not be fun."

The Midnight Lord who had spoken shrank back. Haken tried to calculate the size of the dark room through the echo of Curze's words, but he soon failed. The naval battles he had experienced for more than two years should have made him realize that the High Heavens no longer only favored the Chaos Lords' troops, but that there was also some supernatural energy on the Empire's side that could fight against them - but at this moment, he truly realized that he was beginning to make some mistakes that the Imperial Astartes often made, which was to be too superstitious about physics and matter.

"In this room, your mind is free." The first half of Curze's voice seemed to come from farther away, and the second half became very close. "I am willing to give you this freedom, and I don't need to really destroy your will to make you submit. The Nostramo Grimoire is indeed effective, but I find it is outdated nowadays. There are far more sophisticated ways to control a person's mind than fear. Although you will obviously be a good student, I don't intend to share this knowledge with you before we completely conquer this planet once called 'Jiaxu Star'."

As the words fell, a light source suddenly appeared in the room. Haken instinctively turned his eyes to look at that location, and then another deeper despair suddenly surged into his heart:
What lit up was a projection of a regional star map, and the planet highlighted on it was the location of an important logistics base of the Black Legion - one of the planets that Haken was ordered to protect in the Great Rift after Abaddon left.

For a moment, he even hoped that he could be crushed to ashes right now.

(End of this chapter)