Warhammer: In the Name of Nirvana

Chapter 347 Leman Russ’s Wine

"..."

"wrong."

"..."

"Still not right."

"..."

"Tsk!"

"What exactly is going on?"

"Father, what's the problem?"

Perched on a savage throne made of the skins of fifty species of beasts, the Primarch of the Space Wolves Legion was grinding his fangs impatiently, and his pure golden braids were spread on his earlobes. and shoulders, but could not suppress the cold storm deep in his pupils.

How many times has this failed? Is this the first time [just a little bit]?

Leman Russ couldn't remember clearly. He just raised his palm angrily and slapped the table under his palm, listening to the sound of broken metal and stone, or the chaos of various objects rolling around on the ground: Just like the unwillingness in his heart.

"Father, this is simply a terrible torture..."

Muttering in a low voice, the Wolf King of Fenris was half angry and half helpless as he slumped on his eternally cold desk. However, he was pained by the cracks in the brand new desk and could only swallow the turbulence again. of anger.

Leman Russ was a little helpless. He had to get a new desk, which meant that he had to go back to Fenris again: after fixing all the troubles here.

No, even looking at the entire human empire, I am afraid that only this son of the emperor, who was once a beast, would use a large piece of roughly carved Fenris Glacier boulder as his office: even Dorn wouldn't be that rough.

It’s not that the Wolf King has never tried using cold stones from other worlds, but facts have proven that he is uncomfortable lying on them: obviously, only Fenris can give him some kind of spiritual comfort, peace and relief, and make him feel comfortable. He has enough motivation to numb himself and face the most garbage in the galaxy.

"..."

Leman Russ thought so up to a month ago.

But now, he had a few different thoughts: and with them, countless failed attempts and anger.

"..."

But he still wanted to keep trying.

so……

"Bring me another batch of wine, Black Blood."

The Primarch scratched his blond hair in frustration. He glanced at the bodyguard standing not far away and whispered softly. Under his feet, the once indestructible rocks had turned into corpses scattered on the ground. Even the various objects originally on the stone platform rolled to the ground, making random collision noises.

These falling objects, or in other words, the wine bottles rolling on the ground, quickly gathered at the feet of the original bodyguards. Black Blood looked at the three different colors of wine bottles at his feet, and picked them up one by one. Looked at it carefully.

He looked at his genetic father.

"Sir, whether it is the Crimson Queen brought from the Dawnbreaker Legion or the Cid's Wine brought from the Dark Angel Legion, there is still a certain reserve, but there is not much of the Ice Devil brewed by you yourself: Plane Excluding the batch you have on hand, there are only two bottles left.”

"Then bring them all!"

The original gene waved his hand. He did not raise his head, but focused his gaze on the small half of the table that was not affected. There was also a batch of wine placed there, which seemed to be able to support his next experiment. .

Black Blood just nodded without saying anything else. He walked towards the door and gave a few instructions to the wolf guards who stayed outside the door. As one of the wolf guards left quickly, Black Blood also returned to the Primarch.

At this time, Leman Russ had started mixing wine again: he put three wine bottles of different colors aside, and tightly grasped the wine glass made of special materials with one big hand. , carefully pouring every drop of wine into it, whether it is the order, rhythm or shaking, it is incredibly precise, even in microseconds.

The Primarch stared at the rippling liquid in the cup, not even daring to take a breath, while his bodyguard stood aside, also concentrating on witnessing the work of the Gene Father, and suppressing his inner confusion.

Black Blood has always been curious about what kind of wine actually made Leman Russ so interested: ever since the Space Wolves Legion left Ran Dan's home planet and began a sweeping search towards the northern border of the galaxy. , this kind of extremely rigorous bartending became a kind of hobby of Leman Russ. He devoted a lot of time and energy to it, and experienced countless failures, but he still enjoyed it.

Black Blood had never seen his original body be so serious and focused. He even doubted that the wine born from such rigorous debugging could really make people drink it to their fullest.

Calculations and calculations cannot brew the wine that can make Fenrisian men drunk.

Thinking of this, Wolf Guard opened his mouth, wondering whether he should persuade his genetic father. He instinctively turned his head, trying to find allies, but at the next moment, he realized: this room that was originally noisy to the sky He and the Primarch were the only two people in the giant stone hall now.

As for the other people...

"..."

"Damn it!"

"Still not right!!!"

Before the Space Wolf could make up its mind to dissuade, an angry roar forcefully pulled the Wolf Guard's wandering thoughts back to the real universe: Black blood with cold sweat on his back heard the sound and saw that The remaining half of the desk had been shattered into pieces, and behind the corpse sat the Primarch with a red face.

Leman Russ lowered his head, and his originally golden hair seemed to have lost its wild light at this time, hanging next to his ears like decaying withered grass: the Primarch was grinding the roots of his teeth. The harsh squeezing released a tone of resentment, making the wolf guard who witnessed all this worry from the bottom of his heart.

At this moment, Heixue finally put all his thoughts behind his mind.

"What happened to you, my lord?"

The Wolf Guard took a step forward.

"Ever since we left Ran Dan's home system, you have been repeating this adjustment and...failure. Is there any profound secret in this? Or is it related to our next battle?"

"...No, black blood."

"It's not that complicated."

The Wolf King showed a brief smile that symbolized bitterness. Then, he glanced at the Dionysian Spear hanging on the wall without showing his expression, and then focused his eyes on the wine glass in his hand: There A half-cup of wine that had just been brewed, or rather, a failure that had just been brewed.

The original gene looked at the somewhat turbid smell of wine, his eyes flickering.

"I just want to get drunk again before the war starts."

Drunk?

Wolf Guard frowned.

"Sir, isn't this a very simple matter? You only need to hold a banquet in your own name, invite every wolf lord and their guards to come together, and make every good boy in the legion happy. Just drink until you get drunk and don't come back, that's all we have done before."

Leman Russ grinned and let out a short laugh.

"Do you think that kind of banquet can really make me drunk? Black Blood, that little child's little trick of playing house, not even a hair on my neck will get drunk at that kind of banquet."

"Can……"

The Wolf Guard instinctively wanted to refute something, but his voice quickly stopped, because whether it was the long companionship with the Primarch or all the past experiences, they told him clearly and innocently that the Primarch was not lying at all. .

In Wolf Guard's memory, he seemed to have never seen his genetic father drunk: at any banquet, Leman Russ seemed to only be "drinking to the fullest" and "drinking not to the fullest." 】These two differences, even those top-quality spirits that can make the Space Wolves pile up on the ground like dead corpses, can only add a few more blushes to the thick face of the original body.

The wine that allowed the Wolf King of Fenris to get completely drunk: Blackblood could not imagine it.

"Can you get drunk: does such a thing really exist, my lord?"

"..."

Leman Russ smiled, and there was still bitterness in his smile, as if the brilliance of the Spear of Dionysus was shining on his face.

"Before, I had the same thought as you: It wasn't until that day, until that damn night, when my brothers and I were sitting around the campfire, that I discovered that I could really get drunk. Able to get drunk.”

The Primarch leaned back on his stone throne, looking up to the sky and sighing.

"Do you know that feeling, Black Blood: It's not drinking until you're bloated, nor is your whole brain a mess, it's a real relaxation, a real... joy: what? No need to think about it, all the troubles and worries were forgotten at that moment, leaving only a moment of joy in front of you, but it was so blurry that people couldn't remember more details."

"It's like a dream, a dream that shouldn't exist in reality, but does exist. I can clearly recall its existence, but when I want to recall more, it quickly floats away: In the end, all I remember is that I was holding a brew and drinking it with my brothers."

"We didn't think about anything, we just sat together and drank happily."

"Then I got drunk."

The Wolf King of Fenris slumped on the stone chair, shaking the remaining liquid in the cup and saluting the steel sky above his head.

"I'm pretty sure that I was drunk: because I even forgot the recipe of that wine, I only remember that I brewed it with our respective wines, and as for the rest, I don't remember anything. "

"It's ridiculous, isn't it: a Primarch who is supposed to have a photographic memory would forget his most cherished memories, one of the happiest moments in his life."

"No one would believe it if I told you."

Leman Russ leaned on the throne. He looked at the metallic light on the outside of the wine glass. His low words came out of his bitter smile, which sounded like emotion, complaint, or a long sigh hidden in it.

In front of him, the Wolf Guard just remained silent and listened quietly: Blackblood originally wanted to comfort his original body, but after a brief thought, he found that he had nothing to say, and it was estimated that his genes Father, I don’t need any consolation.

Leman Russ was never a weakling.

"So, I can only try here now: failed attempts again and again, eager to brew the taste in memories again with my own hands, even if I can brew one cup, even if it is only one cup, I can also get drunk and stop."

"I can also briefly forget where we are going next and what shit we are going to do: Father, I urgently need to get drunk now."

"Even one cup will do..."

The original gene whispered in a low voice. He looked at the wine in the glass and took another tentative sip. His expression changed in an instant, leaving only a sigh.

"But I just can't brew it. I can't brew the taste of that night. I have blurred the most important part of my memory and lost the most important feeling: no matter how good these wines taste, they are not what I remember. That kind of thing.”

"……damn it……"

Riemann's voice gradually became lower, and his dull blond hair covered his face, causing his whole body to fall into some kind of non-existent darkness. Only the Spear of Dionysus hung on the wall. , still splashing ruthless golden light, becoming the only shining color on the Primarch.

Disturbing, shimmering colors.

"..."

The Wolf Guard saw all this. He couldn't help but worry about the state of his genetic father, and tried his best to help the Primarch.

"grown ups."

He called softly.

"Perhaps, you can contact Lord Zhuangson of Dark Angel: wasn't he there that night? Maybe he knows the specific formula of that wine, or in other words, he still remembers how you brewed them?

"Do you think I haven't looked for it?"

Leman Russ licked his lips, and his original bitter smile changed slightly: there was a touch of indifferent sarcasm on the corners of the Fenrisian's grinning lips.

"He...is worse than me."

——————

"I won't remember these meaningless little things, Riemann."

The King of Knights of Caliban drew a stingy look from his battle map and military deployment to answer questions from his blood relatives: the pair of emeralds of the same color as Caliban's deep forest The dissatisfaction and contempt in his pupils could not be concealed.

"Instead of wasting your time on such boring issues, Riemann, you should think carefully about what role you and your legion will play in the next battle. You must know that in the vanguard fleet, But intelligence has been sent back: they have found many suspicious traces in some galaxies in the north."

"Even in some reconnaissance fleets that are too far forward, casualties have appeared: in the face of this really important bloodshed, those alcohol bugs in your throat are just a trivial matter, don't throw your energy away It's over there, even you should know what is important."

The Primarch of the First Legion responded to his brother with an unceremonious attitude. He didn't even bother to raise his head again, as if the holographic projection of Leman Russ that appeared in front of him was just a wall of nothing. Like a wall of air of meaning: In fact, Jonson might actually think so.

Faced with such harsh words, the Wolf King of Fenris in the holographic projection did not show the slightest anger: Compared with the irritability and impulsiveness on Duran, Leman Russ now revealed a surprising of calmness.

He nodded first.

"I understand what you mean, Jonson. In fact, I completely agree with you."

"But you see, I have to get a good rest before I can focus on the war ahead, just like you need to give a cannonball enough power to launch it."

"You can't understand this truth, right? A great military strategist?"

"I've never heard of any of our brothers needing leave while on expedition."

Caliban's Lord of Knights gave a brief, shrill laugh.

"And even if you ask me, Riemann, I can only answer you: I don't know."

"It was just an ordinary night, it was just an ordinary drinking party. We didn't even discuss anything important enough for me to remember it around the campfire."

"What's more, my personal energy is limited and I need to devote myself to military affairs and wars first. I don't have time to help you remember how you handled those bottles of wine at that time, or any other unimportant topics you mentioned. "

"Really?"

Leman Russ asked with a smile.

What responded to him was the cold face of Caliban.

"Do you think I'm joking with you, Riemann?"

"Of course I don't think so."

The Fenrisian smiled.

"In fact, I understand your serious attitude now, Zhuang Sen. The burden on your shoulders is heavier than I imagined. At this point, I still respect you very much: it's just that in my heart, there is still A little doubt."

"...Then say it."

Zhuang Sen lowered his head and continued to review the combat ideas.

"Have you really forgotten everything about that night?"

"certainly"

Zhuang Sen didn't hesitate at all.

"As I said before, that cocktail party did not contain any important topics. If you can do it, I suggest you forget what happened that night, Riemann, it is not important."

"Is it……"

The corners of Leman Russ's mouth were cleft at a dangerous angle. He exposed his sharp canine teeth and slowly spoke out the exaggerated accents that followed.

"Well, well, Jonson, my most serious brother, I will remember your advice, and I will obey it: I will forget the events of that night, the bonfire, the wine, our Happy times, forget those words, those discussions, and some... unimportant promises."

"..."

"!!!"

There was a brief pause on the tip of the pen that had never stopped for a moment: and none of this escaped Leman Russ's eyes.

"As you say, Jonson, we did not discuss anything important that night: let it pass, and I shall forget all I said to you."

"..."

"cough."

Lord Caliban suddenly coughed.

"Wait a minute, Riemann."

Zhuang Sen interrupted the Wolf King almost instinctively. Then, he fell into an awkward pause, as if he was thinking painfully about how to say the next words, and the originally resolute face also turned into ashes. A mask of written pain and hesitation, with a storm of thinking raging in the emerald pupils.

Jonson's thoughts may have never been as turbulent as they are now.

"It suddenly occurred to me, man, that we did discuss some important stuff."

"Oh, what is it?"

"that is……"

The Lion King paused again.

"Do you still remember: We once discussed changes to the empire's military system in the future, as well as... the dispatch of certain personnel systems and command positions?"

"You and I have reached some consensus, do you remember?"

"ah……"

Leman Russ spit out an unusually long and slow series of emotions, his pupils flashed with light, and he carefully watched Zhuang Sen's face become more solidified with his emotions.

"Then I have to think about it carefully..."

"Maybe I still remember it?"

When the Wolf King of Fenris ended the conversation with this ambiguous rhetorical question. Before Jonson could express any response, his holographic projection disappeared.

Only the leader of the first legion was left, raising his head, sitting in his seat, and fell into a long silence.

For a moment, Jonson's face looked like the deep woods of Caliban.

——————

"Ha ha ha ha ha……"

"That guy..."

"Still so annoying..."

Leman Russ raised his glass high, and the memory of the recent past echoed in his mind, making the Primarch smile cheerfully.

The turbid wine wrapped in metal exuded a pungent smell, and the genetic principle raised the cup and took another sip. After a long silence, he still shook his head.

This is the cup with the closest taste that he has brewed so far.

But it was still not good enough, but it still couldn't make him drunk, but it couldn't make him forget what he was going to do next, and it couldn't make him turn a blind eye to the Dionysian Spear hanging on the wall.

The weapon given by the Emperor was hanging there, in the most remote corner of the room, in the center of his pupil. It was like a scar that had been bleeding, reminding the Primarch of something in his heart. sin.

He had to face it.

Thinking of this, the bitter smile returned to the corner of Leman Russ's mouth again, and he drank the wine in the cup: Originally, these failed products would be the wolf guards he assigned to him, but in the room After more than thirty wolf guards were knocked down one after another, the remaining black blood refused to drink a drop of wine even after being beaten to death.

What a pity.

After the glass of wine was gone, Leman Russ threw away this priceless wine set. He stood up, his head clear, but his steps became a little wobbly: just like that, the Primarch stumbled towards the wall, towards the The Dionysian Spear that he had always avoided.

It just hangs there.

Silent, cold, deadly.

Damn deadly.

Leman Russ stroked the divine weapon. He looked at it, at the cold light that would never dissipate on the spear, and at the spear, which was more terrifying than the stars, war, death, and betrayal. of bright light.

He looked at it until the same light flashed in his pupils, until he was assimilated by it, assimilated into the monster, the executioner, that the Emperor longed for.

Until this moment, he could say those words softly.

That's what he should have said.

The words he couldn't avoid.

"Heydrich."

Leman Russ chuckled, his voice laced with silent tears.

"wait for me……"

"..."

——————

"I'm here to kill you."

————End of this volume————

Chapter 352/773
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