Warhammer 40k: Shattered Steel Soul

Chapter 457 Under restraint

The strong wind poured into the long dripping corridor from outside the cave, and when it touched the stirring golden light and the blue shadow, there was only a weak sigh left.

The water spray collapsed in all directions under one trample, and the curved tip of the golden blade raised a half-moon arc from the water, stabbing the silhouette of the woman not far away with sparkling water. In response, the woman stepped heavily with her bare feet. The shock caused on the rocky floor of the cave spread to the depths of the earth. The gravel hit from all directions, causing heavy vibrations on the golden armor.

Ignoring the pain in his chest, Constantine Valdo raised the handle of the Sun Spear and swept it towards Erda's waist. The seemingly light blow was enough to break rocks and even gold and iron, but the woman used her superhuman strength to strike. Blocking it with her bare hands, a terrifying scowl erupted from her dark skin, and was repelled by the power ripples caused by Constantine's spear swing.

A psychic cannonball suddenly shot out, and the two of them were thrown backward at the same time. Constantine's heel cut into the earth and stone, and dust rose up from under his feet like an avalanche, while Erda stepped heavily on the stone wall and sprayed it from his mouth. A ball of hot blood mist was released, and the sunken sternum was quickly repaired under her unique spiritual power.

"Why on earth did you sacrifice your life for him?" Erda grinned, the scarf she used as a psychic hood had long been broken into several pieces, revealing her burning eyes, "Why on earth did you all have to die for an evil god? "

Waldo thrust out a spear, and the spear pierced the stone wall where Erda was just now. His strength flowed abundantly in every corner of his body. Erda brushed against him at the last moment, and their faces were close to each other for a moment. Very close, the savage breaths of mist jostle for territory.

The commander of the Imperial Army gave a backhand elbow, and Erda's arm bones cracked and cracked. Waldo took advantage of the situation and pulled out the spear. The end of the spear blade cut off Erda's fingernails while spinning. The broken armor shattered on the floor of the cave, and blood stains scattered.

"That is not my place to consider," Waldor replied, surprised at the intensity of his tone, as if he were offended by Erda's affront to the Emperor.

"Then what should you consider, Commander? You are his right-hand man, where are your thoughts? Is he going to become an evil god, and you will follow him life and death?"

Erda roared, and the additional psychic limbs protruded from her back. Fire suddenly burst out from the palm of her hand, blasting out blue bone fragments of the open skull and hitting the spine of the commander of the imperial army.

The timing of this strike was impeccable, and Erda's swollen rage allowed her to focus all her extraordinary strength into her battle. The ribs of the Imperial Guard commander cracked, and countless broken pieces rolled out from the broken thigh armor.

Waldo remained silent, and the blazing sun spear pierced Erda's left shoulder against the blue fire, throwing her to the ground. The huge force instantly destroyed half of her body. The oscillating fluctuations continued to spread in the small cave, and the gravel fell one after another, hitting Waldo's head. Erda coughed violently under his spear, and fragments of his lungs spurted out pieces of blood.

"You didn't answer me," she said, a mixture of pain and pity on her face, "you poor dog."

Waldo suddenly slashed the spear downwards, passed through Erda's abdominal cavity, and broke the spine. The blue light reflected on the blade of the Sun Spear.

"He gave me instructions," Waldo said.

Erda convulsed: "Oh? He asked you to remain loyal, just like he said to me? Oh, Saturn——"

For a moment, Waldo's spear tip stopped swinging, and then the commander of the imperial army pulled out the spear with force, and turned around with his backhand using the underside of the spear blade to block Erda's surprise attack.

A pair of flaming palms had already penetrated the belly armor, Erda's angry face smiled sarcastically, and the body originally on the ground was only an empty crystal shell, which was shattered with a crash.

"Under the die-hard loyalty, what do you have left, Commander?" Erda asked hoarsely.

Waldo grabbed one of Erda's arms and raised the spear suddenly, slicing through Erda's upper arm on the other side.

Blood spurted out, and in this brief moment, the Sun Spear presented a piece of truth, a memory that once existed, to the commander of the Forbidden Army. It poured in so fast that even Constantine Waldo could not resist.

He felt the most incomprehensible moment for Erda, and the content of the picture caused the commander of the imperial army to pause.

The words he heard made his spear understand in an instant the truth behind the instructions the Emperor had given him, and he - all of them, all of them who had not been in Moro fifteen thousand years ago, all of them All the information that late comers and those who came after us had been overturned.

A brand new grand plan, perhaps abandoned, perhaps still in progress, burns like a raging fire along the eternal thread of time. It is enough to ignite the galaxy and burn hundreds of generations.

And it reinterpreted everything and shattered into pieces against the immovable body of Constantin Waldo.

No matter how much he hoped that the emperor was really considering the plan Erda said, how much he hoped that the one who was about to board the golden cage of eternal vigilance was not his master, as Erda's memory saw...

But this was not the latest and highest order from the Emperor.

A burst of fire burned through the trembling heart of the Forbidden Army Commander, and was extinguished in an instant.

In Erda's memory, the emperor stood there, looking at Erda and into Constantine's eyes, filled with a kind of coldness born of sublimity and a joyful persistence full of hope, and he said...

Erda slipped from the tip of his spear, clutching the spear that pierced her arm, the bones of her hand shattering with a crunch, and freed herself from her bonds. She was about to speak, spitting out more questions from her foaming mouth, but she was suddenly interrupted by Waldor's next spear swing.

This was the answer of the commander of the Imperial Guard.

"There is one assassin left," said Constantine. "The last assassin."

The storm surged around the two men again, and Constantin Valdo swung his spear.

——

"They must have captured more than a thousand," Leman Russ said, leaning on the chair in front of Perturabo, his stormy eyes looking directly at Perturabo. There was neither joy nor pride in his words, nor was there any His common wildness - that was deliberately restrained by him.

"The Illuminati is like the kind of rats you often call them. They are everywhere in the Holy Grail Expansion. Fortunately, they seem to have lost their leader now and are in chaos. It is inevitable that their traces will be exposed."

Many people in the Empire have polarized perceptions of the Space Wolves. Those who are not familiar with them believe that they are complete savages, one step away from the tribes that drink blood from raw materials. Imperial scholars who think they understand the Space Wolves secretly call them pretentious, so Be barbaric.

No, in the final analysis, the object of their misunderstanding is the wolf itself - ignoring the wildness and cunning, cruelty and unity of the wolf pack itself. The Space Wolves legion only lives up to its name.

"The Holy Grail Expansion is bleeding," Perturabo said, summarizing what he had gleaned from recent news reports. "The number of appearances of the Tyrant Planet in the past month has gradually approached the sum of all reports from the past fifty years. In the process of hunting down the Illuminati, have you found any more clues?"

Leman Russ leaned forward, raised his lips, and exposed a fang, "We met once directly, Perturabo. At first we thought it was a solar eclipse, until all the mortals around us fell into self-destruction. Crazy, as if they were so hungry that they wanted to cut off their own flesh and eat it. That finally convinced all of us that the Nightmare Sun was not an expansion of the rumors.”

Then, he shrugged, relaxing the solid atmosphere around the Iron Lord. "Don't be too serious, Perturabo," he said softly, his platinum hair reflecting the cold light in the room, "Even if more and more people start to ask Where has the Emperor gone? We also know that Lorgar's ability to go online is extraordinary - do you know where the whole father is, Warmaster?"

Perturabo was silent, and the light and shadow passed through the empty birdcage hanging from the ceiling, casting the grid pattern of the iron cage on his face.

"I promise to keep it secret, Russ. After his plan succeeds, I will make all the correspondence between us public."

"How long?" Russ asked, sitting back. "It's not good for your reputation, not to mention that you let the Memoir tell the truth about the whole Nicaea. You know, Perturabo, words can't express it. When the Emperor's radiance comes, the sense of endless greatness and reality comes. Lorgar indeed raised a tricky question, Warmaster."

"It won't be long."

"Before or after Horus wakes up?"

"Probably before."

"How do you think Horus would feel?"

"Everything is turned upside down."

Ruth tugged on the fur on his body, and even seemed a little dazed for a moment, losing his sharp shrewdness. Then, he smiled bitterly: "I understand, it seems that the whole father has made an unpleasant decision. I will also keep the secret, Perturabo."

Then, a trace of hesitation flashed across his face, and before his hidden question came out, Perturabo asked first.

"You said you met Eleven once," Perturabo said. "How well do you know him?"

"Hardly," Russ said. "We met on a dead world, and I am certain that it was not his home planet. He told me directly that he refused to join the Human Empire. After the report, the Emperor ordered that there be no further pursuit."

He narrowed his eyes inquiringly, "So you met him."

Perturabo took out a crystal box and expressed his acquiescence with his actions.

"Can you identify this object?" he asked directly. "It is closely related to No. 11 and will inevitably affect the Emperor's plans."

"I'm sorry," the Wolf King murmured, staring at the small box that Perturabo took out, his eyes moving from the table to Perturabo's face, "It seems that this is the mystery that No. 11 left for you. Question, Perturabo. Your connection with him is indeed deeper than we imagined."

"In order to solve the problem, something has to give," Perturabo said. "Thank you for coming."

Leman Russ smiled nonchalantly, stood up from the chair that was too square and elegant, and continued to stare at Perturabo. His huge body naturally left a certain area of ​​shadow indoors.

"I also have a suggestion, my brother," he said. "If you must secretly lock Lorgar Aurelion among the Iron Warriors, you'd better give a proper reason, such as claiming that you Can't stand his slaughter, all that."

He lowered his voice so that his next words sounded like an unintelligible hum. "You know, although most sensible people in the Empire are willing to put their trust in a Warmaster chosen by the Emperor, Aurelion The Book of Holy Words has its followers among the Memoirs, not to mention the vast number of people in the empire?”

"I know their assessment, and that's why we have to revise the Imperial Truth," Perturabo said, also standing up and meeting Russ's eyes. "That's why any of my explanations won't work with existing fanatics, Riemann. Keep hunting the Illuminati, only the Space Wolves can accomplish this duty."

Russ smiled, "I'm glad you can hear the echo of the stone you threw on the water, Warmaster. I'll knock on the wood for you more."

——

"It is said that the Ironborn is empty again," Elias said, looking sideways at Narek, "Aren't you curious about where the Primarch Perturabo went?"

"It has nothing to do with us, and we just saw his image, Elias." Narek said, "Instead of believing the rumors that the Iron Lord is not in the Ironborn, you might as well continue to look for Erebus, whom you serve. He is truly nowhere to be found."

"Aurelian said it himself," Elias retorted unhappily, angry that Narek had exposed him "I don't think anyone would rather disbelieve in his Primarch than believe in a hegemon who imprisoned a legion."

"Primarch Perturabo is right about this, and he hasn't done anything else to us." Narek retorted expressionlessly, grabbing the cross hanging on his chest, "He just asked us to follow the Iron Warriors - and the last decision that Aurelion was blocked from making was to destroy the Iron City WB-004 that we once conquered."

"Muristan." Elias spit out the term sarcastically, "A weak cult whose chief priests were executed. A cult that betrayed the Word Bearers and turned to the Iron Warriors. It is a shame for us to use you as the half of Halhabait."

"If you expect me to fight back like you attacked me, you are wrong," Narek took a deep breath. The air here made him feel sick, even though the smell here was mainly composed of incense, and the second was the smell of burning charcoal hidden under the fragrance.

Lorgar Aurelion, the Bearer of the Truth, now the Bound, had been locked away in the Wanderer's Temple behind them for several days.

During this long period, the faint burning of incense never ceased, and only on rare occasions would Aurelion feel like welcoming his warriors, the gatekeepers who happened to meet the right time, into the locked solitude to talk to them about the outside world.

Muristan's warriors also received this privilege a few times, until Lorgar was sure that none of them supported his view of destruction.

"I am happy," he said softly, glancing at Elias, "I am happy that Lord Perturabo stopped Aurelion's slaughter, and I am also happy that he has temporarily lost someone to kill and reflects in the temple, Elias. This comes from Muristan's respect for him, not your fanaticism for him."

Even if his voice would be heard inside the temple's door, he didn't care that much. Since Daniel took the initiative to ask for death, some of Muristan's people have turned to the other half of the cult, pinning their flexible destination on the side with greater potential. This made Narek more worried than angry.

Sometimes he would reflect on whether Daniel's death and so-called betrayal had anything to do with his warning to his head of the cult that Erebus had a deep personal grudge against him.

Later, his regret turned into that he should have emphasized this matter to Daniel after the morning and evening classes every day until their overly kind head of the cult saw the truth.

"You'd better watch your words-"

"Yes, my existence shames you, Elias." Narek nodded. "Emperor bless me."

"Damn it," Elias growled hoarsely, "you..."

"Waldrek Elias, come in." A soft voice came from the locked black door.

Elias twisted half of his lips, deliberately wiped his mouth with his hand, then pushed the door and respectfully disappeared into the gradually closing crack.

Narek lowered his head and continued to think about what he had been thinking about for a long time. Whenever he thought about it, he felt some hesitation in his heart that should not appear in a Space Marine.

A minute later, Elias came out again and glanced at him sideways.

"What's wrong?" Narek asked bluntly.

"The Holy Grail is bleeding," Elias said, smiling obviously, "Lord Aurelion heard it, and even I heard it - it was the sound of blood dripping. The blood is overflowing from the cup and is now filled to the brim.

"Perturabo should have been the architect of the true God, because the God needs architects, who are born to know how to build houses and erect monuments for the God. But he betrayed his duties, so Lord Aurelion will take over this mission and rebuild the home of God (La Maison Dieu) with real bricks and tiles. Be prepared to welcome the glory, Muristan..."

"Build? Where does our Primarch get the materials?" Narek said sarcastically, closing his eyes and refusing to listen to any extra voices, including his own uneasiness.