Chapter 107 Your Service Has Just Begun
Transparent and useless tears were streaming from his determined eyes.
His mouth, which had never given up or begged for mercy, now murmured a steady stream of weak words.
He cried, groaned, prayed, questioned, begged for an answer, and even humbly begged for the tiniest response toward the sublime and merciless icon.
Six hours and sixty-six minutes had passed since Danat Lysander woke up again, then refused to talk to anyone and left himself to kneel alone before the icon in the chapel.
Amid the lingering smoke of ritual candles and incense, he murmured prayers and whipped painful nerve whips onto his body.
Even though - he had been - oh god, oh god, he didn't know, what his genetic father had told him - what he was going to do -
A sharp electric current cut open the Space Marine's tough skin along with the whip, and blood dripped onto the marble floor along with sweat.
He raised his head through pain and sweat and tears that blurred his vision. The skilled Emperor's face looked down at him solemnly and coldly from the alabaster.
"Please forgive me..."
Lysander still received no response.
"I……"
"Then I will..."
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twenty-two hours ago
Destiny Steel Medical Room
"You despicable heretic! How dare you blaspheme our Holy Father in front of me!"
After experiencing dozens of Terran seconds of shock, terror, madness, loss of consciousness, and loss of consciousness, the holy anger that was higher and purer than ever before burned hot and raging in the chest of the Imperial Fist.
"I will kill them!!"
He raised the tip of his elbow and struck hard at the face of the Iron Warrior who was making a suspicious laugh. Ignoring the cracked skin and exposed bones, he pushed open the opponent's strong and wide thighs, and used the reaction force to prepare. Pounce upon the despicable and cunning enemy of Chaos who dares to bear the holy face of Dorne upon this blasphemous Iron Warriors ship -
The being with the face of Rogal Dorn moved.
The basic tactical movements made by this being are very simple. Everyone can know what he wants to do, but his speed is so incredible that even the modified eyesight of the Space Marines cannot distinguish, let alone resist.
Lysander's vast combat experience, gained during his centuries of loyal service, was as clumsy as a child's in the face of his opponent's simple actions.
"Do not move."
The distance between them was already so close, almost to the point of offending the gods, and those always calm, light iris-colored eyes came into contact with the gaze of the company commander again.
In an instant, the information written in the genetic spiral and the induction brought about by the dark biological engineering or something else - the ruthless truth and the even more ruthless natural overwhelming power of dominance over the heirs penetrated Lysander's entire being. soul.
At that moment, the attacker realized in despair that he was indeed preparing to attack the man wearing the Iron Warrior armor - Rogal Dorn, his genetic father, the Emperor's noble seventh son, the Guardsman of Terra, the Mountain The true master of the formation, the final high wall that will never betray.
【He】·has·bet·bet·and·choose·pe·tu·ra·bo.
From the moment he boarded the pilgrim ship to Holy Terra as an infant, Danat Lysander accumulated all the firm faith, final reason, and wisdom accumulated in all the prayers, battles, and desperate situations for a thousand years. His love and instinct for his father were fighting with each other in his body. Thick rolling veins protruded from his forehead and neck. Hot steam was steaming and sweat trickled down. He hugged his head that was about to explode and let out a cry of pain. The cry, "NO——!!! (NO——!!!!!)"
Accompanied by this desperate cry that would break the heart of any mortal listener, the first company commander was knocked to the ground neatly - the opponent was not only far superior to him in strength and speed, but also made him collapse. It is the opponent's inner familiarity with the most essential and basic movement details of the Imperial Fist.
Lysander once severely trained the 3rd Company rebuilt by his hands as an instructor. Among the existing veterans of the Imperial Fists, few people can understand Rogal Dorn's return 10 thousand years ago as deeply as he does. What kind of gifts did you give to your children?
This deep understanding of the power of the Gene Father and the pride of the Legion, which had now become a symbol of his purity, holiness and glory, was transformed into countless vicious cursed blades, cutting Lysander until he was covered with wounds, broken into pieces, and even replaced with any An Imperial Fist might not be as sad and heartbroken as Lysander at this moment.
He felt that his two hearts and his entire soul were turning into sharp and poisonous crystal fragments as the man wearing the Iron Warriors emblem in front of him revealed more words and action details, which in turn pierced deeply. His internal organs.
"Why...you...why..." The Terra Guard, one of the solid foundation stones in the final high wall of the empire, finally collapsed and fell to his knees, crying uncontrollably.
"My father! Our noble and glorious father! Rogal Dorn! Have you and the Emperor abandoned... us...?"
Behind the curtain, the gluttonous gods and their families, who had been waiting for a long time, were excitedly and happily enjoying the extremely painful wine brewed by the despair of the most loyal people at the luxurious feast held for this purpose.
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At the same time, on the other side of the Milky Way, Galadon, who was guarding the Phalanx, frowned deeply with worry.
The thumb bone on the hand of the sacred Gene Father, who was already like a candle in the wind, finally disappeared completely.
The Fist of the Empire can no longer make a fist.
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After being knocked to the ground by the newcomer, Lysander knelt on the ground, mumbling and repeating incoherent words like some kind of broken servitor. Listening carefully, it was completely illogical prayers and more confessions. Everything he was proud of was broken. Everything inside Danat Lysander was now taken out and spread out on the ground and trampled on——
Shanto, who had been motionless on the side, shook his head slightly and was about to step forward to help Lysander up.
"Leave here." The cold and noble voice like the snowfield of Inverte under the sun made the whole movement of the war blacksmith stiffen. "What comes next has nothing to do with you."
Shanto suddenly realized his casualness and arrogance.
It's really strange, how could I forget... Is it really the edge of the blade that has been dulled by the life and interactions here...
He shook his head with a wry smile, and bowed to the Adventer with the minimum necessary courtesy to a Primarch, and left the infirmary, leaving space and time for the father and son inside.
The golden Garuda spread its metal wings, flew down silently and lightly from somewhere high up, and landed behind the neck of the white power armor.
"Look up, Lysander."
"Don't give up at this time."
The first captain looked up blankly, his lips trembling.
"Your service has just begun."
The despair venom that is more hopeless than the end engulfed Lysander's soul.
Quack.
Chapter 2 is coding, let's eat first
The air quality has been really bad these days
When I took Pepe out at night, it was like Silent Hill outside
Ah, and although it's like this, I still have to defend Shanto,
Although he is really not gay, what live dissection and storytelling are all things that the original text has done... It's all space horse brotherhood【