Chapter 683 65 Belated Judgment (Chapter Twenty-Six, Three Chapters in One)

Chapter 683 65. The belated trial (twenty-six, three chapters in one)

Leman Russ has always felt that certain qualities of himself and even his Legion are completely inseparable from Fenris.

This is not to say that the ghosted big ice ball is a good place worthy of writing a long poem. In fact, on the contrary, Russ believes that their cruelty, ruthlessness and savagery are all thanks to Fenris.

Although this sounds a bit silly and laughable, he still thinks so, because everything has two sides.

Fenris doesn't welcome the weak, so does it welcome the strong? Wrong, no one is welcome in this deadly place full of ghosts, evil spirits, and beasts.

Even if the Emperor comes, it's like a blizzard like 'you'd better get out of here or hide so I don't see you'. In Russ's impression, Fenris had never looked down upon the Emperor during his two rare visits.

In other words, it's fair - it's done this to the Lord of Mankind, what more can you ask for from it?

So, too, do the Fenrisian wolves, who are fair game too.

Those who can hang out with them will be surprised to find that most of these long-tusked beasts, known as killers and monsters, are actually very humorous. There are many bad tempers, but there are also more who can joke.

But now, back to that two-faced statement - only those with the courage to approach them can enjoy this treatment.

Russ raised his head and whistled deliberately: "Have a nice hunt, you two?"

His words made one of the two faces covered with snow and blood turn gloomy, while the other didn't care. He just nodded, raised his left hand, and showed a huge monster head to the Fenrisians. .

The latter was still squatting on the ground, smiled, and suddenly reached out and threw the hand axe. Some kind of fire flashed past, and a pungent stench gradually rose.

In the wind and snow, the hunter looked down at the charred head in his hand, threw it on the ground, then turned around, picked up Russ's ax, and walked towards him.

"how so?"

The hunter asked calmly, and even handed the ax back to him without any sign of anger.

"What do you mean?" Ruth asked, squatting.

"My weapons have all been specially processed. They are very primitive, but compared to ordinary weapons, when the enemy is a demon, they are far superior to any kind of weapon. But my weapons are lost to that thing. It’s very effective, neither a spear nor a knife can kill it completely.”

The hunter narrated in a low voice while placing his gaze on the ax in Ruth's hand.

"How can it do such a thing? Is it because of the evil-exorcism charm?"

"You could say that."

Ruth replied, waving to him and gesturing for him to squat down with her. The hunter didn't hesitate and was more thorough. He took a step back and knelt down halfway so that he could look more closely at the glowing runes in the snow.

"Before the Wolves officially accepted the Fenrisians, and Fenris officially accepted the Wolves, there was a long time when the same power of apotropaic charms or similar names was only in the hands of a few people. A powerful Chief, some mysterious priest"

"They don't know its nature, they just know that it can drive away evil spirits and make them afraid to come back."

"There is no doubt that the way they used it was stupid, because they never thought to explore what was hidden behind such a seemingly costless power. However, it was just that the method was stupid, they didn't Search for the truth, because the sneaky truth often does nothing but sting.”

“You could describe their mentality as escapism, and yet they accidentally did the right thing—something that spared everyone until this power came into view of the wolves. "

Ruth suddenly snorted coldly and made a self-deprecating smile: "In other words, he was led into the wolf pack by me."

The hunter listened silently, showing no sign of expressing any opinion. Instead, the third person present, the king with a gloomy face and his shoulders and back covered with snow, spoke.

"You started telling another story." He said coldly and lowly. "Is it another metaphor?"

"Don't worry, Your Majesty - I'm just explaining to him what he wants to know, okay? I'm definitely not trying to tell another story so I can use it as a reason to laugh at you. How could I do this? Give me some time. , I’m going to get to the point right away.”

Some complicated emotions flashed through the king's gloomy eyes. For some reason, in the face of such ridicule, his expression softened a bit.

"I hope your focus will be of some help to us. That demon must die and we must not let it escape."

Ruth raised his eyebrows slightly and suddenly asked: "Why?"

"What?"

"Why don't you want it to go out?" the Fenrisian asked, looking up. "It didn't show any hostility to either of you from the beginning to the end, didn't you notice? No matter how hard you attacked it, it didn't fight back."

The king pondered for a moment, sheathed his sword, raised his left hand, pressed the hilt of the dagger and spoke in a very calm voice.

"After the form of war I was familiar with was tainted by Chaos and completely changed, in order to pursue victory, I began to explore various taboos. Knowing yourself and the enemy is the first prerequisite for victory in war. So I understand that any evil deeds in the material world It can all cast a ripple in the subspace.”

"I want to ask, can you count how many people Serafax has murdered for his plan? So many deaths, even if they are just unnecessary accumulations, can turn small ripples into huge waves. How powerful will the monster born from this have? If it is allowed to escape, how many people will die?"

The wind blew, the king closed his eyes, raised his right hand, straightened the golden crown on his head, shook his head slowly, and his voice gradually became low.

". How can I ignore such a thing? I am very likely to have nothing. If I become a damned traitor again, I might as well draw my sword and commit suicide now."

The hunter's expression suddenly became a little surprised, and this little emotional expression did not escape Rus's perception. In fact, all things that are suffering from the cold in this blizzard cannot escape.

"What do you think?" He turned his head and deliberately asked the hunter. "Hmm? What do you mean, good hunter? Our king said that he might have nothing. Did you hear anything?"

The hunter raised his eyes and gave him a serious but sad look, then slowly spoke.

"Serafax is a traitor. He is with the devil. I do want to go back, that's true, but I would rather die here than choose to borrow his hand."

This is really

Russ took a breath of cold air lightly. He had to admit to himself that he was a little irritated, or annoyed. But he concealed it well. Neither the hunter nor the king could see his true emotions at the moment-they had no experience and didn't know how to deal with him.

Or, it was that they didn't have time to have a chance.

Russ gritted his teeth, raised his hand axe, and knocked it against his chest. The sound of metal collision cleverly covered the slightly dull sound. The two looked at him and waited for the next step.

"The essence of the exorcism talisman is very simple." said the Fenris man. "It is a vow or ritual with a price attached, whatever you want to think of it. Its function is simple, that is, to drive away, track, kill or destroy all evil spirits within the range of the rune."

"How strong its effect is depends on the determination and willpower of the user. The more you want to protect or destroy something, the more and stronger it can do."

He grinned, put away his hand axe, walked to the already cold body of Lion El'Jonson, and carried him up.

The Spear of Dionysus slipped from the fingers of the corpse and was bitten by one of the giant wolves. It followed Russ silently, and the other wolf took the lead in stepping into the raging snow and soon disappeared completely.

The Fenris man then freed one hand, pulled off his cloak, and pulled out a tough rope from his waist. He bent down and tied the withered and much smaller body to the back of the giant wolf holding the spear with a very familiar method.

During this time, the hunter wanted to help, but was silently rejected. He had to watch Rus do everything alone, and finally covered the corpse with a cloak and tied it tightly with another rope so that the wind and snow could no longer touch him.

"So, who was its price grafted to?" The king asked, he was suppressed, as if he had been waiting for Rus to finish his work.

Rus didn't even look at him, just took the Spear of Dionysus from the giant wolf's mouth, and answered casually: "Fenris."

As soon as the voice fell, he stepped into the wind and snow, and the remaining two were unwilling to lag behind and immediately followed.

But the scene outside has changed, from the vast expanse of snow to a series of magnificent towers. One after another, of different sizes, but strangely presenting a complex and harmonious beauty.

They are arranged like this, forming a magnificent valley that makes people want to completely sink their minds into it. But as long as you take a closer look, you will find that they are actually tombstones and coffins.

The translucent surface was full of names, and the inside was filled with corpses. Children, old people, adults, regardless of status, were buried together. Some towers were already blurred, and visibility was greatly reduced. Only a few corpses could be seen floating at the top, and the rest were filled with a sticky and dark liquid.

Others did not, but the situation was even worse. The three people present could clearly see the production process of the black water - it was separated from the corpses. At first, you could still see some white, and a face that was either terrified or painful, but soon it turned into nothingness in the bubbles and whirlpools, as if it was swallowed or assimilated.

Ignoring the hunter and the king's rage, the Fenris people spoke lightly.

"It takes energy to maintain this world of nothingness. The place you just stayed in is actually just an illusion. This is its true appearance. His method is very clever, but I have seen better ones. Let's go. These people need real rest, instead of being knocked out of their bones and marrow and taking away everything after death."

"What to do?" The hunter asked, his face twitching terribly.

"Go ahead, big guy." Russ gave a sharp smile. "What else do you think?"

"Is there a more efficient way?" the king asked, his brows furrowed, his face showing both the shame of hindsight and the pure anger of this horrific atrocity.

"No, your majesty, this is the most efficient way." Russ shrugged. "Stupid way, old way. Good way. Let's go."

He was the first to step into the valley, and after a few minutes, the king realized that he was not joking, this was indeed the most efficient way, because the materials that made up the towers were surprisingly fragile.

He didn't even need to use a weapon. With just a light punch, the entire tower could be shattered from the root and collapsed, causing more collapse. Corpses fell from the sky and rained down around them.

Without the leeway to apologize, the king just forced himself to focus - he knew what this meant. The forbidden knowledge he had read told him that all rituals could not escape energy supply.

Sacrifices, spells and ritual sites are indispensable, and the glass towers in front of them carrying the bodies of innocent people are the most important incarnation of the two rings in one. Without sacrifices and ritual sites, how long can such a horrible world last?

The king did not have a definite answer, but he believed that it would not take long - his perception was correct. In just ten minutes, the three primarchs completely destroyed the glass city that built a flat valley.

The corpses were scattered all over the ground, and the black water flowed. There was no pungent smell, but it made this hell even more terrifying.

Among the three people present, the hunter seemed to be the most violent. He had been clenching his fists tightly, and now he was twitching the muscles on his cheeks like a nervous person. His lips kept rising, and saliva mixed with blood slowly dripped down.

"It's here." The hunter tried to speak clearly, but his eyes were full of bloodshot. "I can smell it, it's here."

"It seems that just chopping off one head is not enough, good hunter?" Rus asked with a hint of sarcasm.

As soon as he finished speaking, he did nothing, and another giant wolf that had disappeared in the wind and snow came from right in front of them. The thick fur could not cover the movement of muscles, and the eyes of the beast looked extremely cold.

It walked to the side of Rus, bared its teeth and growled a few times. The latter nodded while listening, and finally stopped with an extremely obvious sneer.

"It's hiding." The Fenris man smiled gloomily and viciously. "It seems that it still doesn't want to be your enemy - this is very interesting. By the way, is there a very young one among you?"

The king was interrupted by his sudden turn of thought. He frowned slightly, subconsciously reached out and pressed the Sky Eagle emblem on his chest, and then nodded slowly.

"Young?" The hunter panted and shook his head. "No, he is just a child. Why are you asking this? He can't come here, he is still asleep, and even if he comes, he won't-"

Russ kept that smile, took a deep, deep breath, and interrupted him.

"-No, no, good hunter, he is here. So, we have to kill a child." He said slowly. "And we have to kill him in the most cruel, evil and horrifying way."

As soon as the voice fell, the spear was suddenly handed out. This blow was completely without any warning. It was not fast, at least not for the hunter and the king.

They could clearly see the trajectory of its movement - how it flew out of Rus's hand with power, how it drew a graceful arc, and finally stopped at a young chest, piercing the boy into the ground.

Blood dripped slowly, and a pair of eyes like green buds were filled with tears in pain, looking at them, without saying a word, but not running away.

Rus ran forward, roaring continuously.

"Wait a minute--"

The hunter stretched out his hand to try to stop it, his expression had changed from rage to astonishment, and the complexity of it was still unknown. But he was a step slower after all. Rus had already rushed to the boy, kicked him up, pulled out the spear, and then pierced his head and stabbed it into the ground again.

The king almost heard the hissing sound of the iron piercing through the flesh.

For some reason, he was a little dazed at this moment, and his right hand unconsciously clenched his badge. At the same time, he heard a thunderous footsteps behind him, and a shadow brushed his shoulder and took away his dagger.

A gasp of shock, anger and fear only came into his ears afterwards, like an angry bull slowly pawing the ground.

"Don't do that!" the hunter roared. "Let him go first!"

Russ didn't even look at him, threw down the corpse and the spear, pulled out the hand axe from his waist, bent down, lowered his head, raised his arm - so easily and naturally, he handed the axe to the hunter's neck.

Although the latter held two sharp blades in his hands, he did not raise them, and had no intention of swinging at Russ. Instead, the Fenris axe had already sunk shallowly into the hunter's neck, and the blood flowed, but it could not slide down, and was completely swallowed by the axe blade.

"To be honest, you are a good hunter." Russ spoke slowly, with a bit of warmth in his voice. "So why not smell it? Can you smell the smell on him?"

The hunter subconsciously did as he was told, but his expression suddenly became panicked - it was incredible to have such an expression on his face, but it happened just like that. His lips trembled a few times, and he wanted to say something, but he failed.

Finally, he stepped back dejectedly and asked in a low voice: "How could this happen?"

Rus laughed again, he put away the axe, stood up straight, pulled the Spear of Dionysus from the boy's head, and answered his question in a very strange and brisk tone.

"That's how it is, old man, this damn world is fucking like this. I bet you two know him, right? Maybe you once cultivated him as a more promising one for you?"

"Ah, it was a good time to think about it. It makes me want to hear those stories. You told him your own stories, didn't you? And warned him not to make the same mistake if he had the chance to go back? Hum, ha, hahahaha."

Ruth laughed and turned around, shaking his head at the speechless hunter.

"Alas, giving light to the desperate, and then extinguishing the light completely, what an old-fashioned but heartbreaking trick."

Behind him, the boy's miserable corpse was gradually swallowed by the black water on the ground. Slowly, a monster stood up.

It was tall, but also very thin, like a premature baby who was not well developed. It covered its face with its hands, and its deformed chest and abdomen were bony, and every bone was so sharp, as if there were millions of swords hidden under the taut skin.

After a while, it finally put down its hands, as if it accepted everything. The hunter and the king saw a face that had become extremely hateful after the mutation. No matter how they compared it with the child in their minds, they could not see any similarity - except for the eyes.

Except for the eyes filled with tears and pain.

The monster opened its mouth and made a request with a sound similar to the friction of metal. Russ heard the request clearly and clearly, so he turned around and swung his spear, piercing the monster's head.

The tall but extremely thin body fell to the ground with a thud, splashing more black water, and stood up again soon. Under their feet, very deep and very far away, some kind of breaking sound was faintly heard.

Russ thrust out his spear again with an expressionless face.

Once, twice, three times - he stabbed the heart, stabbed the forehead, beheaded, dismembered, trampled into meat paste, chopped into meat sauce - the Primarch who was once a killer and the king of loyal dogs used all the killing skills he had on a demon, and was full of hatred and motivation.

He was so murderous that he would do anything to kill the demon.

But it just wouldn't die.

It stood up again and again, crying in pain again and again, but it didn't resist. It just stood there, bowed its head to accept the slaughter, and let the pain turn into endless punishment-until one hand grasped the hand axe at Rus' waist.

The Fenris turned around and saw the king's face. He seemed to have aged a dozen years.

He raised the axe, pushed Rus away, and stood in front of the demon.

"We have been here together for countless hours." The king said, his throat rolling up and down. "At the beginning, I was thinking about going out and leaving, but soon I didn't think about anything and could only focus on my memories."

He swung the hand axe and chopped down the demon. The latter fell to the ground meekly like a sheep, but suddenly burst into a very terrifying scream, as if he was experiencing a pain a hundred times stronger than before.

The exorcism charm on the axe was as bright as a dark red sun.

The king squatted down and swung the axe again. Sticky blood splashed on his face, splashing numbness.

"Can't forget, this is the lowest bottom line I set for myself. And I have a good memory. I still remember that we talked about the sixth Terra Defense War last time. I went out to deal with Conrad Curze who was re-raised from the desecrated corpse. Now continue, listen, child, you like to listen, I remember it."

"Conrad was crazy to begin with. His talent is both a gift and a curse. After his death, his soul was taken away and polluted by them, and he became hopelessly crazy. I know very well that he cannot be dealt with by ordinary methods, otherwise it will only cause more and more casualties."

The monster kept roaring and rolling, showing its willingness to dodge for the first time. But the king did not let him have his way. The axe chopped into the chest, neck or head again and again.

The black water was surging all around.

"So, I broadcast my location to him directly. It was just me and him, and it would take at least ten minutes for the nearest defense force to arrive, and ten minutes was enough for us to kill each other hundreds of times. So I knew he would come, because at that time, I was the only worthy prey on Terra."

"Sure enough, he came. To my surprise, he was very sober when he came, perhaps for the last time. He told me that he had created an opportunity for us. He gave me a string of coordinates at the edge of the solar system, explained something that seemed nonsense, and then fell into madness again. I killed him and ended the sixth defense battle."

"The Night Lords came to me and asked me to provide information about their Primarch, so I told them the truth and took them to the coordinates. Do you know what I saw there, child?"

The monster's body began to burn with dark flames, and the king's right hand was as steady as steel. Every swing of the axe was firm and precise, like a robot, but his voice was so trembling.

"I saw a dead world, a world of only yellow sand, corpses and dead silence. This was once Baal II. After Sanguinius was forcibly corrupted, his hometown was also implicated. Countless demons emerged from the void, killing everyone here, and used evil magic to forcibly move it in the material world."

"We didn't know about this at first. We were busy with endless wars and had no time to do anything else, but Conrad knew. In fact, he not only knew the new coordinates here, but also knew that the souls of the angels who committed suicide were hiding here, fighting an endless war."

"He was alone. Even our father couldn't help him because he was seriously injured and dying. He couldn't even keep the Star Torch burning. If it weren't for Lorca's sacrifice, it would have been completely extinguished."

The black fire entered the body and burned everything. The demon wailed and shivered, and finally couldn't bear it anymore. He used his hands and feet to escape from the king. It lay in the black water, the flames extinguished, and even the charred parts could be restored in the blink of an eye.

However, after recovering, it trembled and walked back, kneeling in front of the king, and offered its neck to be killed.

"I came there, thinking I could save my brother's soul, but I failed." The king said sadly, his white hair on his temples had already turned bloody. "Everything I did later failed. My brothers trusted me and nominated me as their commander, but I failed to accomplish anything."

"Jaghatai was besieged by the Four Gods and died of exhaustion. Perturabo had to be buried in the Dreadnought and died in the Ninth Defense of Terra. Dorn followed closely and entered the Dreadnought. Robert Guilliman did not retreat in the eleventh defense battle to ensure that Lorgar's sacrifice would not be in vain, and died in the Astronomican Hall. Mortarion lost more than 80% of his organs, his limbs were broken, and he had no fighting ability. He could not even enter the Dreadnought and could only be placed in a stasis field to wait for life. Magnus tried to rebuild the Webway, but was stared at directly by the evil god in it, lost his mind, and was confused all day long. Corax wanted to emulate Konrad Curze and stop the blood demon army outside the solar system, but was taken into the warp by the angel and disappeared."

Once again, he raised his axe.

"That's the end of the story, child." The king said hoarsely. "I'm not the hero you imagined. I failed, completely failed. I told you all these tears and blood, hoping that you could learn from them and avoid such misfortune in the future, but I didn't expect..."

He seemed to stop talking as if he was choking, and the axe didn't fall for a long time.

He took it with his other hand and brought it down with great force.

The hunter swung the axe silently, one after another, without stopping. Unknowingly, the dark flames had completely surrounded them. The sound of shattering was endless, coming from the soles of the feet, from the back, and from the top of the head.

The demon's head fell to the ground and rolled into the darkness. The hunter walked over, picked it up, and then chopped it again with the axe.

He didn't speak, not even a word. He didn't stop until the sticky blood covered his whole body, until the black water stopped boiling and no longer agitated, until the emaciated monster turned into the boy again.

He turned around, walked towards Russ, and stuffed the axe into him.

"Thank you," the hunter said, his voice deep as if it contained blood.

Russ did not answer, but just looked at the boy. The hollowness on the latter's face could not escape his observation, and this alone made him know that the series of massacres just now would not have discounted the child in the slightest.

He suddenly said: "You are so brave, just like Lion El'Jonson."

The boy's eyes moved, as if he had come to his senses. Without anyone's help or reminder, the moment he woke up, he looked at the king who was kneeling on the ground without saying a word. Black fire was blazing, nothingness collapsed, and a faint light slowly fell from their heads.

The boy smiled.

"Be careful." He said softly.

The darkness shattered.

The king's tears fell to the ground.

The boy's body began to twist, and some unimaginable evil thoughts flowed out of this broken body bit by bit. The death of countless people, the pain of countless people - were thus integrated.

A complete conspiracy. Russ thought. If he didn't kill the child, he would not be able to escape. But if you kill him, this thing will come out.

The Fenris sighed and raised the Spear of Dionysus.

"Come on." He challenged the demon who was no longer bound by anything, his expression was extremely focused and cold.

——

M40, the Tower of the Sigils.

The rolling storm blew through the gaps in the masonry, shaking, swaying, and cold. The natural environment was so bad, but the house with black and white as the main color still did not light any heating.

A very tall man was in the center of the room, flipping through a book.

He frowned, and his expression looked between impatience and thinking. His silver-white hair was a little messy, and his robe was covered with dust, like a statue, which made people wonder: How long has he been here?

No one knows the answer.

Suddenly, someone knocked on the door, and the man gave permission without looking up.

With a creak, the wooden door was pushed open, and a hooded figure with his lips sewn with gold thread raised his hand and made a long series of complex gestures. A giant in gloomy armor and dark eyes stood behind him with his head down, saying nothing.

The man who turned around saw all of this, and his brows furrowed more and more.

"I know." He said briefly. "Let them prepare, and then notify the Time Court, and let all agents carry time bombs and weapons. What's your name, Night Blade?"

"Afanazion, sir."

"Come in." The seal holder said, and reached out to hold his Sky Eagle Staff.

The golden flame could have bloomed blindingly, but he deliberately restrained the power and kept it at a very low light. Night Blade knew nothing about this, just holding the helmet in his arms and stepped into the door. Behind him, the wooden door slowly closed, still creaking.

"How long did it take you to deliver the letter, Afanazion?"

"Time? Three days, sir, I was originally near the solar system-"

"——No." The palm-printer interrupted him roughly. "I'm asking about your physical time. How long do you think it took you to deliver the letter?"

Afanazion was silent for a few seconds and replied: "At least a whole year, my lord, but I thought this was just a natural phenomenon of warp navigation."

The palm bearer didn't care about his supplementary explanation and just continued to ask, his tone still cold: "Have you tested this answer with your own intuition? At least for a whole year? Are you sure?"

"...I'm sure." The young Ye Ren took a deep breath, and his expression became nervous and serious. "If you feel it's not safe enough, I can accept memory retrieval and psychological suggestion."

"That's not necessary." The person holding the seal raised his hand and rejected him flatly.

There was a period of silence, and Afanazion stood uneasy, as uncomfortable as a prisoner waiting for his sentence. Unexpectedly, when the person holding the seal spoke again, his tone had become very soft.

"Come here, young man."

Ye Ren raised his head in disbelief, and found that the deep brows on that face had been smoothed away - and at some point, the Eagle's Staff had regained its famous intense light.

not good!

Afanazion immediately wanted to close his eyes. The gene seeds of the night blades were very pure, but they were not without them. He was sure that if he didn't do this, he would be blind for at least a whole month.

However, when he really closed his eyes, he realized belatedly that the pain had not come, and the temperature in the room suddenly increased.

Afanazion lowered his head in embarrassment, but his keen observation ability came into play at this time, allowing him to see a pair of footprints next to the printmaker at a glance - it was a kind of hidden and invisible footprints. The golden hair, the burning power is tightly bound within it, never leaking out.

"Look less and ask less." The palm-printer's voice reached his ears at the right time, still very soft. "However, I still have some questions to ask you. Are you willing to answer them, Afanazion?"

"Of course, sir!"

"Don't be so serious." The palm-printer said. His face seemed to be twitching slightly, especially around his mouth and cheeks.

Afanazion pursed his lips and once again entered the state of looking at his nose with his eyes and his mind with his nose. He already regretted volunteering to take on this mission. If he had known this, he might as well have stayed in the fleet to kill something. But then he thought about it, and he came to the solar system, saw the Great Wall of the Fortress, and even met the Palm Holder. This was already Totally worth it.

".never mind."

After a long silence, Afanazion seemed to hear a sigh. Immediately afterwards, the voice of the palmer returned to that coldness.

"Do what you have to do, Night Blade." The handprinter said with waning interest, turned around, and opened the book again. But just half a second later, the sound of the wooden door opening and closing was heard again.

And the light of the long eagle staff that he leaned on the table exploded again. Not only that, this time, the light actually reached another level, reaching a point where it was enough to make people completely blind.

A vague voice began to gather in Malcador's ears.

"Fortunately, I noticed this small detail. Otherwise, he would have lost his vision for a long time."

"You are quite leisurely." Malcador replied calmly while flipping through the book. "Since you are recovering so well and are so energetic, why don't you think of a way to control Perturabo?"

"How is he?"

"You know it yourself - as soon as he received the news from Robert Guilliman, he began to become restless. It has been almost three natural months and he still has not calmed down."

"It's always uneasy to meet again after a long separation, my friend. What's more, this is the resurrection of a relative from the dead. Can't you tolerate his excitement for a moment?"

Malcador snorted coldly, put down the book, and suddenly stretched out his hand to hold the long staff, his voice became extremely serious.

"Tolerant? Such an adjective? Your ability to satirize is really getting better and better. To be clear, I'm not worried about him, I'm worried about these people who were released from the alien cache."

"Why?"

"Asking knowingly, don't say that you don't know the deal that Khalil made with the alien. Don't say that you don't know the recent news coming from the Storm Star Territory - a civil war broke out on the side of the Necrons. It is said that an overlord was killed Completely exiled, not only deprived of his identity, he was even declared a traitor, and was hated and hunted by all the undead."

"Are you worried that Trazyn the Endless will do something to try to prove his loyalty and innocence to his kind because of the persecution and slander he has been subjected to?"

"This is natural," said the palm-printer. "I don't believe the alien didn't leave a trail behind in these people, and if it wanted to return to its past identity, there's a good chance it would."

"But maybe not."

"For aliens like the undead, I don't think there is any possibility for them to accept being deprived of their identities in life. They are essentially just a group of living tombstones, with nothing but memories. After such drastic changes, it is impossible not to fall into madness. Possibly. Judging from the alien's character, it will definitely try to save itself."

"Yes, I think so too." The vague voice smiled. "So it's more likely that he goes straight to our crazy friend."

".What did you say?"

"It's more likely that he-"

The one holding the seal interrupted him severely, with an angry look on his face and a voice as loud as thunder.

"——Who is crazy? What did that damn idiot Caryl Rohals do?!"

No one answered him anymore, only the sound of wind outside the tower. The seal holder took a deep breath with an ugly expression, turned around and left with his long staff.