Chapter 717 10 A Firm Believer in the Truth of the Empire (Part 2)

Chapter 717 10. A firm believer in the truth of the empire (II)

The blood vessel on the right side of the forehead burst, and blood gushed out, quickly staining this relatively tender face into a mottled canvas. The blood flowed down and divided it in half. Its owner was screaming with all his might, so he had no time to care about anything else.

The hot blood fell into the eyes, flooded the mouth and nose, and continued to flow down, winding like a river, to the undulating hilly area. It came to the neck, and the neck had bulging blue veins and blood vessels waiting for a long time.

The blood submerged them, the muscles tightened, twitched constantly, and the scream turned into a low roar, which made people wonder where the sound came from - why did a twelve-year-old child make such a howl?

There was no love, no happiness, no innocence and innocence that he should have at his age, and even the animal nature born out of pain was not much

There was only hatred. Yes, there was only hatred.

The hatred overwhelmed everything. It made all the beauty disappear, and turned a child's mind into the lowest, most ridiculous absurd nothingness. It was just hatred, but it was enough to overwhelm everything.

It defeated the instincts of this body, swallowed its intelligence, reason and sensibility, and even the soul.

It made the child's bloody mouth open like crazy, revealing bitten flesh and bloody tongue, and then laughed wildly.

It made Fulgrim, the Primarch of the Third Legion, tremble and retreat until his back was against the wall, and he swallowed a mouthful of cold saliva mixed with blood.

". That's it."

He spoke with difficulty, looking at the child tied to the iron bed through the bulletproof glass, whispering painfully.

"He is seeing what I see."

Yes, seeing what he sees.

Time goes back seven hours, back to the moment when Caril Rohars summoned Jairzinho Guzman in Fulgrim's home.

It took them only a few minutes to explain why he had been summoned and the severity of the problem, and the medical officer said he needed samples and data, and if possible, he wanted to see the moment with his own eyes.

So Fulgrim called his Chapter Master, Saul Tarvitz, and asked him if there had been any progress in the reserve - he said yes - and then a child flew from the ground, took a shuttle straight into the clouds, and landed on Eagle Wing.

He had a simple name, Sarron, given by his mother. His mother came from a remote planet, met and married his father thirteen years ago, and arrived on Chemos six years ago.

Sarron's father was a gunnery sergeant with extremely strong skills. He was born in the Third City of Chemos. He was young, promising and handsome. He was promoted and professionally recognized just four years after joining the army. Later, he served in the place where he and his wife were destined to be.

Two years after their marriage, his father died in battle and the planet was destroyed. His mother moved around and came to Chemos in accordance with her husband's last wishes and the shadow of his legacy. The planet accepted them without any reservations.

Saarlon's special growth experience allowed him to demonstrate extraordinary qualities and willpower in school and paramilitary training, and he was put on a special list by the secret government department of the Third City.

This list is updated every ten years, and each city has it. It will only be given to Saul Tarvitz, and he will visit these children one by one.

He contacted them, got to know them, became friends with them, and then asked them if they were willing to join the Third Legion-at this moment, he was also standing in front of the bulletproof glass, staring at the child who was suffering and in pain inside, in a daze.

He understood what Sarron was going through. In the past, every child he brought had been tied up on a similar iron bed, cut open, and then bled, wailed, and laughed.

From the moment the gene seed was implanted, they would begin to dream. Those dreams came from Fulgrim, from ten thousand years ago. They would see things they shouldn't see and experience some severe pain they shouldn't experience.

Their minds were not yet able to bear that kind of complex emotions, so if they could survive this, they would become mentally ill for a period of time due to the severe shock.

This might be the only luck among thousands of misfortunes. Thanks to this, the pharmacists of the Third Legion could finally use psychological suggestion and a variety of potions to make them passively "forget" the terrible dream, so that they could retain their sanity and personality.

But the price was that no anesthetics or analgesics could be used in the subsequent eighteen operations. Once they fell into a deep coma or mental disorder due to external stimulation, the nightmare would come back.

In order to survive the subsequent surgeries, the reservists even had to spend an extra two years under the hands of the princes to hone their bodies and temper their physical strength. However, even so, there was no guarantee that they could survive the entire surgical process.

Sol Tarvitz closed his eyes and, like his original body, took a few steps back until he was far away from the bulletproof glass, then lowered his head to breathe a few breaths of air, like a drowning man.

A few minutes later, Sarron calmed down. He was covered in blood and sweat, and his muscles were cramping. Due to excessive struggles and convulsions that he could not control at all, many blood vessels in his body had burst, and blood was still dripping.

A hand wearing medical gloves reached out from the side and gently lifted his head. The mechanical arm next to the iron bed moved automatically, sprayed disinfectant, and the wound suture began.

The operator was very careful, meticulous, and professional. The steel needle in his hand pierced the boy's flesh with a gentle force that his predecessors, colleagues, or successors would never have, bringing the suture into it, and then even did not forget to wipe the blood stains clean.

It took him two minutes to completely sew up the wound on Sarron's body, and then replaced him with a new bag of plasma and nutrient mixture, took off his gloves, walked through the disinfection valve, and then left the room and came to the bulletproof glass.

"The situation is terrible." He declared simply and directly. "This child is still alive, it's extremely lucky."

Standing aside, Kalil, who had been silent, finally coughed lightly: "Jairzinho, do you have a conclusion?"

"Of course, but I'm afraid it's not the kind of conclusion that you, instructor, and Lord Fulgrim are willing to hear. Let me talk about the key points first."

The medical officer, who was still wearing a bloodstained surgical gown, turned to the Primarch of the Third Legion, looked into his eyes without hesitation, and spoke calmly.

"He is incredibly compatible with your gene seed, and from the perspective of human physiology, this level of compatibility is impossible."

"In the Legion era, we had a saying called a natural midnight blade - this evaluation was mostly because the person's personality was extremely suitable for our Legion, but Sarron is different. He is truly physiologically compatible with your gene seed. I can even say that he should be a child of the Emperor. And this is impossible, do you understand?"

Fulgrim was silent for a while, and replied: "But wasn't compatibility a topic that was often mentioned in the past? Who is compatible with whose gene seed? The degree is extremely high--"

The medical officer interrupted him mercilessly: "--That statement is essentially correct, but the subject of the description is wrong. There has always been only gene seeds adapting to or conquering a person's ordinary flesh and blood, not the so-called situation of someone adapting to gene seeds. "

"Think about it, my lord, are you the same species as mortals? Is your blood the same thing as mortal blood? If you can understand and accept this, then you can understand how incredible the current situation in Sarron is in my eyes."

Fulgrim fell silent again, and so did Sol Tarvitz. The two of them thought in a very similar way. Khalil took in all of this and decided to speak again.

"In other words, Sarron's situation is like Fulgrim's blood adapting to his body? That is, the sentence you said is essentially correct, but the subject of the description is wrong? "

"Yes. "The medical officer turned to him expressionlessly. "Just like you summoned me with a scalpel you found at random, and made me appear in the world with a lion's leg bone. The essence is right, but there are also some mistakes."

Khalil took off his hat, held his left wrist with his right hand, and looked away silently and speechlessly, but the medical officer continued.

"Don't you have common sense about mysticism? Your actions are likely to cause the array to go wrong, and once this happens, there is no possibility of reversal."

"I am not worried that you or Lord Fulgrim will be in any danger when the wrong summon arrives, but it is very unprofessional to do so. Although you can be regarded as a very helpful medium for summoning me, the lion's leg bone-"

Jairzinho Guzman took a deep breath of cold air with the smell of disinfectant and blood, and said slowly: "-it is definitely not a high-quality material in the world."

"It is very likely that my appearance in the world will deviate slightly from people's impression of my appearance. In my opinion, even if you throw a whole piece of stone into the summoning array, it will be much better than the leg bone."

"But the lion is actually a Terran, just like you, Jairzinho."

"Yes." The medical officer's eyes twitched. "So?"

"So, please forgive my unprofessional behavior this time." Khalil spread his hands very carefully. "I will learn from my mistakes and never make the same mistake again."

The medical officer was silent for a few seconds and changed the subject abruptly: "In short, based on my understanding of human physiology, Sarron's current situation should not happen."

"From the most basic underlying logic, it is impossible for his gene seed to be compatible with yours, Lord Fulgrim. Therefore, I must temporarily abandon science and use mysticism to explain this phenomenon."

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His words made the Chemos people, who had been silent all the time, look over suddenly, as if they had thought of something.

Jairzinho frowned, thought for a moment, and then said, "I think the child's unusual adaptability can be traced back to two reasons."

"First, he is a descendant of the Chemos people. His father is a pure-blooded Chemos person. Second, his family situation."

"I have read the relevant information brought by Captain Saul Tarvitz. The name Sarron means the son of pain in the dialect of his mother's hometown. He was born a year after they got married. At that time, the gunner sergeant had already set foot on the battlefield."

"From this point of view, Sarron's name was given by his mother-it can be inferred that during the six years that the mother and son wandered on the road, he must have been told many stories about his father by his mother when he was still a child."

"How did they meet, what kind of person his father was, what he looked like, what his personality was like, and most importantly: why his father died."

The medical officer suddenly paused, and his face, which had been as cold as ice since he walked out of the operating room, finally softened, and his voice became calm.

".Children also understand hatred, everyone, and this is the second point I want to make - this child has great hatred in his heart."

Phoenix closed his eyes again, but this time he seemed particularly calm, as if he had finally given up, like a person hanging upside down on the edge of a cliff who finally couldn't support himself and fell down, with only the humming sound of the wind in his ears. However, at this time, he became even calmer.

"Should I continue?" Jairzinho asked softly.

"Continue." Phoenix said with his eyes closed. "If you think that your unspoken conclusion is the same as what I think in my heart, then say it, Guzman."

"As you wish." The medical officer sighed. "My final conclusion is that Sarron and every Emperor's son who has survived the transformation surgery of the Third Legion in the past ten thousand years are mystically connected to you. And the source of this connection is you yourself."

Saul Tarvitz suddenly roared: "Ridiculous! What are you implying?!"

"He is not implying, Saul, he is just pointing out the truth. I have been in Chemos for too long. Even though my father has saved me from the brink of destruction, my incompetence still left a mark."

"For Chemos, I am like a walking nuclear warhead with a huge yield, which will subtly affect the people of Chemos - otherwise how do you explain the evidence he pointed out? You know it very well, my son, the facts are not much different from what Medical Officer Jairzinho said."

"I am the source of contamination for the people of Chemos."

As he said, he stopped talking, and an extremely complicated smile suddenly appeared on his face. His eyes were crying, and the sadness in them was too heavy to describe, but he had to pretend to be relaxed and raised the corners of his mouth, pretending to be nothing.

Even though blood and tears had already slid down his cheeks.

In this way, he walked towards Caril Rohals step by step.

"I still think the first way is better." The Phoenix of Chemos leaned over his ear and whispered softly, with a little smile in his voice. "What do you think, Caril?"

A moment later, he got a loud slap in the face.

But the culprit was not the Grand Inquisitor, but a giant wearing a black robe and a moonlight crown on his head.

"Idiot!"

He roared with a hissing voice, his expression was extremely angry, but he only showed a little bit of his inner anger, and immediately raised his arms and hugged his tearful brother.

"Don't be like this, Fulgrim." Conrad Curze whispered in extreme sorrow. "I beg you to cheer up, okay?"