Chapter 733 25th Interlude: Day of Wrath

Chapter 733 25. Scene: The Day of Wrath

Humming the song, Berlos von Sharp walked up a mound with a smile. This is not high, but it still allows him to have a more comfortable angle to observe the battlefield in front of him.

How many wars have the recorder participated in? Even he himself couldn't explain the answer to this question, but he could confirm another thing - this battle would definitely be among the top three in terms of pleasure.

"Come on." Berlos murmured. “Working hours.”

He took out paper and pen from his carrying bag and stared at the distance with concentration, regardless of the rushing lightning above his head and the anger beside him.

He raised his right hand, narrowed his left eye and pointed the pencil in his hand at the shaking mansion, calculated its proportion, then lowered his head and quickly drew a rough pattern on the paper.

His paintings were sloppy, and his painting skills were obviously not very clever, but even so, it did not affect his true horror at all.

The recorder raised the kraft paper and took it a little further away. He looked at it carefully and couldn't help but sigh.

"This is not a book, but what if people see it?"

"What?" A voice came from behind him. "You have been dead for years, and you still want to continue publishing books?"

The recorder was slightly stunned, then turned around with a smile: "Yag Sevetarion!"

"Ah, ah, ah--" Seveta used a finger to knock the accountant's enthusiastic handshake, his expression quite intriguing. "—Don't rush to reminisce about the past with me, old man, the battle has not been finished yet."

As if to refute his words, an unparalleled vibration suddenly came from the world. The surface of this dirty garden cracked, and the huge temple of skeletons rose symbolically from it, and once it appeared, it spread the raging flames everywhere in the garden.

Even the tiniest corners could not escape this disaster. All the deformities and evils danced wildly in it, and then turned into ashes, without any hope of life.

Seveta tsked very clearly, and the old habit followed closely behind, inserting the power sword in his hand into the dark soil under his feet.

His behavior made the recorder frown in pain, then put away the paper and pen, grabbed the power sword with both hands, and pulled it out again.

"Why are you still disrespectful to weapons like this?" Berlos asked in Seveta's slant glance.

"How do you know it thinks I'm disrespectful to it?"

The recorder was speechless for a moment. In order to relieve the embarrassment, he simply carried the sword on his shoulder - its length was like a broken flagpole to him, and it felt quite easy.

In the ridiculous sneer coming from behind, he observed the mansion again, but happened to see endless bright light coming out of the rotten wooden board, reaching the sky and the earth, as if there were hundreds of suns. Rising from it

Such a strong light caused the person behind him to groan, but the recorder himself was unscathed. He couldn't help laughing, causing anger.

"What are you laughing at? If Terra looks straight at the sun, will you not be blind?"

The recorder sighed and put down the power sword, but imitated Seveta's appearance and inserted it into the soil under his feet with a gentle force.

"How could you ask such a question? Sevita? Terra people are also humans, and looking directly at the sun will certainly be blind, but I'm just used to watching."

"Oh, the veteran flag-holding official is very different." Saveta sneered. "What's next? Looking back, let's talk about the monarch you remember?"

"I have to charge money for telling stories."

"I don't have a penny of money, and I don't want to give it a penny, but I want to hear this story again-what should I do, Mr. Berlos von Sharp?"

The reporter shook his head and raised his hand without saying a word to point forward. Following his guidance, Seveta endured the extreme discomfort caused by the strong light and squinted his eyes to the mansion on the ridge, which was almost on the verge of disintegration.

The black flames spread on the surface of the earth, and the sun hangs high in the sky. The two forces that are completely opposite and whose essences are opposite each other show an indescribable harmony at this moment. But Seveta could feel that this harmony is only temporary. It is the will of the two masters who have created such a wonder. How long can it last?

and

Seveta suddenly frowned.

"We're going to retreat soon."

Standing in the garden that was almost killed in the air, stepping on the dark soil accumulated by the corpses of the Nurgle Demon, he calmly gave this conclusion.

And Berlos knew that what he said was not false. Although the recorder was awakened late and regretfully failed to catch up with the expedition ceremony that should have been recorded by him, he almost participated in the entire war.

His control over the direction of the war situation was extremely accurate. From the beginning, he believed that the battle would not last long.

Just as the army in the material world needs supplies to continue to fight, the group of demons he is familiar with in the wasteland also needs "supply" to do their best. Every bit of violence they pour out here today is inseparable from the support of Carriel Lohals.

But now, the supplies are almost exhausted, and if you continue to fight, the things consumed can no longer be labeled as the metaphor.

The recorder raised his head, looked deeply at the pure white sun hanging on the dark sky, took out his paper and pen again, buried his head, and began to write quickly.

[From ancient times, they have been waiting hungrily in the darkness. God is God, and evil and good are meaningless in them. These beings are creatures at higher levels. They regard us as both grass and food. .

[Throughout ancient times, how many people have been influenced by them to do evil things or make good deeds? .

[From the long-term, rational and in line with the ideas of some philosophers, there may be no difference between the two. But I don't think so. Evil is evil, good is good, and the boundary between these two cannot be blurred or shaken. .

[God is God, and evil and good are meaningless in them. Therefore, how can an existence who will cry for tragedy that has nothing to do with his own body and swear to avenge them? .

[I don't agree, he is not God, neither of them. .

"What are you writing?"

Seveta asked impatiently and pulled out his sword with his backhand.

Some strange roar came from the sky, and the filth hidden in the clouds was melting by the sun. The angry flames were still vast, rising and falling like waves, burning everything on this rotten and dirty land. The earth shook again, and a huge door made of white bones slowly rose.

"Nothing," said Bellos von Sharp. "Just write something that is not allowed to be on the table."

After saying that, he jumped off the earth slope first and walked into the huge door, with demons following closely behind, and Yago Sevetarion, who urged him, was the last one to step into it.

Before leaving, amid the sound of the decaying world gradually collapsed, he saw a dark dead body running from an extremely distant place. Its back was clinging to another golden skeleton, and real tears flowed in its empty eyes.

The second war—the real god war—is about to begin.

The flames hit, the sun rose, and a roar of pain came from the black mansion.

Seveta turned around with a complicated expression, stepped into the door, and left.

Intersection

Fogrim knew that he was dreaming. The dream is long, but the scene inside is very real. Despite this, he could not describe well what he saw. He just felt drowsy.

When he woke up again, he was already lying on a sickbed.

"Awaken?" A voice came from his right hand.

Phoenix tried to respond, but ineffective, he could not make any sound. Moreover, even turning his head to observe this very basic muscle function became very difficult for him at this moment.

It was not until more than ten seconds later, until he was even a little bored, that he finally turned his head with difficulty and saw a person lying on the hospital bed.

Fogrim opened his mouth with great effort, trying to call his name - but still fruitless.

He closed his mouth angrily, adjusted his mindset, and tried to respond with a smile. However, his body seemed determined to fight him today, and he used his twitching muscles to twist the smile that should have been friendly to the extreme. Exaggerated and terrifying expressions.

Phoenix turned around angrily, and the force was so strong that it even made a dull crackle sound on his neck.

After a moment of silence, a burst of laughter began to echo in the room. Phoenix began to torture his neck expressionlessly, and turned his head back.

There is no mistake, one, one, one, one, one, one, one, one 619, one book, one, one, one, one, one, one, a book!

"Don't blame me" Carriel smiled and shook his head, his flesh pressing against his cheeks, making him look thinner, almost like a skeleton. A few rays of sunlight came from the window and sprinkled on his face, and the thin patient became a little angry.

Phoenix looked at him steadily, and it was not until a long time later that he could barely calm himself down. He had already remembered what had happened not long ago, so he fully understood why Carrier's weakness was at this moment. .

But the patient, who had no self-knowledge, noticed his emotions and began to comfort him first: "Don't worry, I'm used to it."

What are you used to? !

Fogrim turned his head, closed his eyes, and exhaled a long breath of turbid air. In the next few hours, only the sound of medical instruments left in the room. The awkward silence ended until its door was pushed open.

Phoenix opened his eyes absent-mindedly and made plans to see Jairzinho Guzman or Belisarius Kaul, but the person who walked into the ward completely failed his plan.

"Bal—" San Gilles walked up to him anxiously, stretched out his right hand, and pressed the back of his hand against his cheek to measure the temperature. "—You're awake, Fugen."

Phoenix stared at him blankly.

The Archangel sighed with resentment, turned a blind eye to his reaction, and just rolled up his sleeves and reached out to help him up from the bed. He also cleaned up his collar and messy hair in his hospital gown, and then he started to speak softly.

"It's been almost two years, brother, we're worried about you after hearing the news. The engineering fleet sent by the Mechanical Education has begun to rebuild the natural environment under the command of Kaul, and the people of Chemos have temporarily moved to the ground. On space stations, satellites and warships, the supply fleet is on the way, and the problem of living conditions can be solved soon-"

Fogrim raised his left hand with great effort and signaled San Gilles to wait. His throat rolled, gasping for a few seconds, opening his mouth in a hoarse voice that was almost ridiculous.

"Two years?"

"No, to be precise, there are only thirteen days to two years, what's wrong?"

".I've been lying down for two years?" Phoenix asked slowly.

"No, brother, you are wrong again." The angel said patiently. "You jumped out of the warp with Khalil ten months ago, so even if you count all the time, you have been lying here for less than two years."

"You, you"

"What's wrong, brother?" The angel asked with a smile.

Panting, Phoenix suddenly coughed. Seeing this, the angel raised his hand and patted his back lightly, and at the same time, he winked at a person who suddenly appeared at the door without leaving a trace - and the person completely refused to accept it.

He strode into the ward, his footsteps were dull like thunder, and Fulgrim woke up in an instant.

He was too familiar with this footsteps.

Ferrus Manus stood expressionlessly beside his bed, staring silently.

Sanguinius slowly stood up, walked slowly to the side of the ward as if nothing had happened, and pulled open the curtains, letting the morning sun of Chemos fall into the room through the window.

He waited for a long time with his back to them, but he still didn't hear any conversation. In desperation, the angel had to speak himself.

"After you disappeared, the situation of Chemos soon reached Ferrus. He happened to be on an expedition and came directly with his fleet, but he had no idea about government affairs and post-disaster reconstruction, so he sent another urgent telegram to Terra. It happened that I had something to discuss with the great sage Belisarius Cawl--"

He paused for a few seconds, turned his head and glanced at Caryl Rohals, who nodded slightly to him, and the angel continued.

"--Anyway, you have to get better soon, brother, I have to rush back to Terra as soon as possible, so that Robert won't be too successful in my position."

He told a joke, and no one in the ward except Caryl gave any reaction. The angel turned around as expected, but found that the situation at the moment seemed a little different from what he thought.

Ferus Manus stood there calmly, his fists clenched, and his anger almost overturned the roof.

Sanguinius looked at Khalil again, who shook his head imperceptibly, indicating that he should do nothing, but he propped up his cheek with interest and looked at the scene.

After a long time, Gorgon spoke in a deep voice.

"I will make you a new armor."

After saying that, he turned and left, striding without hesitation, leaving only the helpless Phoenix in the room.

As for the other two

Sanguinius glanced at Khalil, who was sighing in disappointment, and his eyes twitched slightly.