Chapter 714 7 Certificate of Honor (I)

Chapter 714 7. Certificate of Honor (1)

Go back in time, back a hundred and fifty years ago, back to that night when Lonatistel had just entered the Third Army.

At that time, he was just a teenager, far away from his parents, and was taken to the sky in a bumpy way. He was placed in a solitary room, where he had almost everything except his companions.

That night, he was alone and couldn't sleep all night. The emotion that came to his mind was not longing, but fear - what if I fail? What if they don't want me anymore?

At that time, the boy did not understand the concept of being taken away alone by Sol Tarvitz. He was full of worry and barely fell asleep until dawn, and as soon as he fell asleep, he had a nightmare.

He dreamed that he was descending from a height of 10,000 meters, and the strong wind tore his face. He wanted to scream, but could not make a sound.

Then go back a hundred years, to the moment when he first fought with the Primarch.

That planet was three systems east of Chemos, its name now obliterated. But before everything about it became taboo and dusty, it was once a prosperous world.

Like all planets colonized by the Empire, in the first few centuries it produced food, including meat, fish, and plants.

Then the soil lost its activity due to over-exploitation, so it transformed into a mineral world, and all valuable mineral resources on it were exploited in the following centuries. Eventually, it became a classic hive world.

The governor's family that rules here still has a conscience. Their ancestors did not use the wealth acquired from generations for enjoyment. Instead, they took a large part of the money at the moment it was about to transform into a hive. Come out to network and hold cocktail parties.

In this way, it became a trade hub in several nearby systems, with countless important deals being finalized in its luxurious penthouse suites, and its residents benefiting from it.

No matter what, they all had a guarantee of survival - until the last leader of the family went crazy.

The third legion came after hearing the news.

Killing.

Lonatistel and his team, armed with sharp blades, faced the civilians.

He has already experienced hundreds of battles. He has gone through large and small patrols and accumulated sufficient experience for half a century. He will not have the slightest mercy when facing the enemy. But at that time, he hesitated, but the reason was not wavering, but fear.

He saw his mother laughing and throwing her infant baby to death, his father crushing his daughter's throat with his teeth, and a group of soldiers roaring and running past him, emptying their rifles of bullets, and then smashing the unarmed old man into pieces with their rifle butts. 's spine.

Everyone seemed to be crazy, and the reason for their madness was not caused by evil things. The hatred in their eyes was genuine.

The fire burned the sky, and countless twisted shadows howled wildly in the ruins. The instigator cut off the hand that threw the Molotov cocktail in tears, and then dug his eyes out with his fingers. He fell to the ground, whimpering meaningless phrases before turning to shouting.

He shouted, screaming in pain, talking about everything he hated and himself for murdering those innocent people, and then kowtowed until he smashed his head open on the edge of the ruins.

The tower collapsed, and endless debris fell from the sky, crushing the factory and causing an explosion. The plane full of passengers crashed into a residential area with flames burning, and the captain hysterically announced obscene words to everyone on the communication channel.

The firelight illuminated Lonatistel's helmet at that moment, and the face underneath was pale and dripping with sweat.

Fear - that was all he felt at the time - because he realized that he wanted to be part of it, at least part of him was looking forward to it.

Then back to the present, to the moment when he had witnessed the Inquisitor transform into this thing.

Lonatistel clenched her fists in fear, still standing where she was.

"You can pray to the Emperor, I can see your desire." The thing whispered to him, its voice was calm, and it actually sounded like it was giving advice sincerely. "If this works for you, then pray and try it, Captain."

It stepped past him, and the sea of ​​blood boiled and burned. The corpses roared and rushed towards Lonatistel. The sea of ​​blood drowned him, the bones of the undead held him down, millions of bone hands grabbed his hands and feet, and countless voices swept over him

What? What are you talking about?

The sound gradually became clearer, like the sound of distant wind finally reaching my ears. Just a little bit, he would be able to hear clearly - if the hand didn't suddenly grab him and pull him out of the sea of ​​blood.

The thing bowed its head and spoke a cold warning into his ear, but it actually contained a level of patience that shouldn't exist at all.

"I apologize to you for being negligent. I'm not used to it yet. But don't listen to this. Let's go to your legion's honor room, where your questions will be better explained."

What are you? Lonatistel wanted to ask the question, but he couldn't. He also wanted to resist, wanted to sound the alarm and notify others. Anyone could, at least they must know what was happening here.

But he couldn't do anything. The intense chill froze everything he was thinking, completely locking up his power. His body was mechanical and stiff, and he walked blankly behind the thing, completely ignoring the frenzy surging in his heart.

In this way, they walked into the Hall of Honor - or rather, the Relic Gallery.

As soon as you step into this place, the first thing you see is a solemn and dark avenue, made of stone and metal. There were flags hanging on both sides of the road, some were broken and full of bloodstains, and some were as bright as new and had not been exposed to any smoke.

Many auxiliary power armors stood quietly under it. Looking at it, none of them could be called complete. Traces of various cruel battles remain on it, and its wearers have long since perished, but these armors still stand majestically, like sentinels, or skeletons whose flesh and blood have been picked apart by vultures.

Lonatistel's originally hazy mind was rekindled with fighting spirit the moment he saw them. He gritted his teeth and tried to inspire himself with the spirit of his predecessors. The oath that he promised never to dishonor the glory of the Emperor's Sons came to his mind at this moment. heart.

Deep down in his heart, he kept roaring, wanting to get rid of the control of the thing that was walking in front of him - he could sense that this process was proceeding slowly. He didn't know if it was an illusion, but he had to give it a try.

However, I don't know at which second the original pure white light suddenly changed. From this moment on, the world in front of Lonatistel changed color instantly.

The smell of gunpowder smoke quietly emanates from the relics displayed on both sides of the road, bringing with it the sum of blood and death. The gentle warm air that the indoor ventilation system had maintained disappeared and was replaced by hundreds of different noises: footsteps, the sound of a gun being loaded, the sound of a helmet being put on.

So complicated, yet so orderly, Lonatistel's blood began to boil, and he understood what it was.

Some people are preparing for a war. They are fully armed and are currently lining up.

How many of them are there? Hundreds? Thousands? The battle flag was flying, and the hand armor was constantly rubbing against the flagpole. The breathing was heavy as thunder, mixed with the ancient and distant dialect of Chemos and the ancient Terran language. Laughing and cursing, urging and urging, finally, someone drew his sword.

Lonatistel gasped and raised his head. His optic nerves, which had been pushed to the limit by his own blood pressure, still faithfully transmitted the images they captured to his brain nerves and brain cells - bit by bit, he finally He saw clearly what was before him.

A soldier blocked the thing's path.

His face is covered with scars, his white hair is tied back, and his lower jaw has been replaced by a bionic joint made of brass. His armor was ridiculously broken, and even the sky eagle on his chest was obliterated by huge bullet holes. He held a sword in his hand, and a chain made of steel was tightly wrapped around its tail and his right arm armor.

Lonatistel had never met him, at least not in person.

He had only seen his deeds in books and his intact handsome face in the portraits that had been handed down. He didn't know the man in front of him, but when he actually stood in front of him, he recognized him at a glance.

"Lucius, Captain of the Thirteenth Company of the Emperor's Children, salutes you, Khalil Loharth." The man bowed his proud head deeply. "We are always at your disposal."

A burst of sound erupted from both ends of the road, a huge clash of steel. Lonatistel raised his eyes and wanted to observe the surroundings, but his eyes reached a certain limit under the constant pressure.

Blood spurted out, severe pain struck, and the things in front of him became completely blurry. He could barely see a collection of two colors, purple and gold.

Like a wave, they swayed and swayed, turned into an explosion of angry flames, and then shouted in unison.

"The Emperor's son, his father's enemy!"

This was the war cry of the Legion. Lona Thistle thought.

In the deep chill, the fear faded. He fell to the ground helplessly, covered in sweat, as if he had just experienced a war. All the thoughts in his heart gradually faded away, and a burst of calmness that he shouldn't have replaced him, making him regain his sense little by little.

A few minutes later, he opened his eyes again, his vision barely recovered, and the inquisitor returned. He was still wearing his coat and leather boots, and his wide-brimmed hat was well placed on his head. His eyes were dark and his face was pale.

Lonatistel looked up at him and asked, "Who are you?"

"Ten thousand years ago, I was a member of the Eighth Legion. They called me the Instructor."

"Ten thousand years ago?"

"Yes." The man nodded to him. "I have attended many occasions on behalf of the Eighth Legion. It was at that time that I met your original body. There was a little friction between us, Tavitz."

Lonatistel turned his head suddenly, and a pair of hands pulled him up from the ground without any doubt.

"Chapter Commander?" The Second Company Commander exclaimed. "I"

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The dusty Saul Tarvitz patted him on the shoulder.

"No need to say anything, Lonatistel. Take a deep breath and calm down. What you just experienced is not an illusion. There are indeed many dead souls sleeping here. These things should not be revealed to you until you serve for another century. , but since someone has already arrived first——"

He gave a rare smile, and the Inquisitor murmured an apology.

"——I'm very sorry for disrupting your original plans."

"I don't have any hope that any plan will be executed perfectly, instructor. But I am indeed curious about what prompted you to bring Lonatistel here, or even to awaken the 13th Company. The dead souls?"

Sol Tarvitz raised his hand, took off his hood, dusted himself off, and asked.

"This question needs to be answered in two parts. First, the dead souls here were not awakened by me, but by Captain Lonatistel. His willpower briefly broke through the barriers of reality, allowing them to wake up briefly. I think you came here for this reason?"

"Yes." The Chapter Master of the Emperor's Children shook his head. "I was originally inspecting a reserve but I received an alarm. Fortunately, there is a transmission device not far from me, otherwise Lonatistel might have heard the follow-up of the friction now."

"That friction has been resolved."

"For you, it is indeed just a small friction. But for our Gene Father, it is a warning bell placed in his heart, reminding himself not to repeat the same mistakes. So, I think Lonatistel might not be able to maintain his current sanity when hearing those things. Is that right, Lor?"

Tavitz turned his head and called the second captain's childhood nickname affectionately, causing his originally dumbfounded expression to suddenly freeze.

"War, Chapter Master?!"

Tavitz waved his hands, suddenly stood up straight, and his expression became serious. He turned to another person present and asked again: "So, why did you explain all this to Lonatistel?"

The Inquisitor spread his hands frankly: "Because he asked, it's that simple, Tarvitz."

"It fits your style very well, I'm not surprised." Tarvitz responded in a deep voice, looking at 'Loer' again. "Now, stand at attention, Lonatistel."

The Second Captain subconsciously bumped his heels, stood up straight, and saw his Chapter Master slowly walking forward until he arrived at the side of the Inquisitor.

"This is Khalil Rohars, from the Star of Eternal Night. He raised and trained the respected 8th Legion Primarch Konrad Curze, and then served as the Chief Instructor of the 8th Legion. During the Great Crusade, he made outstanding contributions and even had a private room on the Emperor's Dream."

Lonatistel's eyes widened and his breathing stopped.

Khalil was silent for a while, then said quietly: "I say, Tarvitz. You don't need to retaliate against me like this, right?"

The Chapter Master of the Emperor's Children looked straight at Lonatistel - to be precise, at the end of the avenue behind the Second Captain. At the entrance of the Hall of Honor, a group of fully armed Emperor's Children were looking at this place with surprise.

Obviously, they all heard it.

Saul Tarvitz lowered his head, looked at the pale man carefully for a moment, suddenly smiled slightly, and spoke in a low voice.

"You look more like a human now than before."

After saying that, he took two steps back, pressed the side of his belt, and the blue light that was transmitted instantly engulfed him, leaving Khalil and a group of Emperor's Children staring at each other in silence.

Finally, Lonatistel strode forward. He grabbed Khalil's hands and looked into his eyes. The previous fear, sweat and shock all dissipated, leaving only a strange fanaticism.

"The Emperor's Dream?!" he said loudly, shaking his hands up and down. "Please tell me about it!"

Khalil felt a sharp pain in his head, and a subtle sound came from the bottom of his heart, which was a completely undisguised laugh.