Warhammer 40k: Shattered Steel Soul

Chapter 46 Dagger

The moment he stepped into the palace, it was as if he had stepped from the eternal night into the false bright day.

The breeze came slowly, carrying the faint fragrance of rosemary, sage, hyacinth, and the misty smoke of incense, and the fragrance of the best fruit wine spread in the garden. The layers of pure white gauze were adorned with jade-like vines, and the deep purple roses on the vines were scattered in an orderly manner, like a sky garden, a fairyland on the ground.

Morse walked in this beautiful scenery, and the blood stained between his black cloth and robe seemed out of place. He walked without stopping, and every time he stepped, more dirty blood and minced meat on his robe slipped down, dragging a bloody road on the path in the courtyard.

After a little thought, he stabbed the heavy sword in his hand into the ground. The sword dragged all the way, cutting directly through the exquisite milky white pebbles like piercing a scroll, and the heavy fires that ignited did not go out for a long time, violently breaking the intoxicating harmony of this place.

There was a chuckle in the distance. Morse tapped the hilt of his sword with one finger, making the fire burn more vigorously, and continued to go deeper into the palace.

His mind was highly concentrated, not only limited to the palace that had changed, but also spread to the surface of the planet, always monitoring the overall situation.

When he saw that Perturabo's army had reorganized and recovered from the surprise attack and quickly decided to continue the attack, he paused for a short time, and then invisibly transferred and marked more power marks through the invisible sigils left on the child's shoulder.

Going deep into the palace, Morse ignored countless laughter, and the sound of the burning flames replaced all the lewd sounds.

There was only one thing that deserved his special attention, that is, he had not encountered any obstruction along the way, not even some symbolic messengers of pain and the phantoms of weak succubi had appeared.

The Prince of Pleasure used all means to express his infinite welcome to Morse's joining.

Or rather, he was eager to absorb his soul and the container that was closely integrated with his soul in a more straightforward way.

Morse slashed open the huge door of the inner courtyard of the royal court, which was inlaid with gorgeous reliefs, and threw the cloth bag carrying the eldest prince Harkon into it first.

The number of people present, or more accurately, the number of things, was more than he expected.

The one sitting on the throne should be Damex - his old head fell in the middle of the floor, his body was crawling on the soft armrests, and the golden staff passed through his body from top to bottom.

After seeing Damex, Morse determined that he was late by about seven to ten minutes by coincidence.

Since the tyrant was dead, he would no longer spare the life of the eldest prince. A flash of light like lightning and frost flashed, and Harkon died.

He did not look back. Within the range of perception, the broken door was covered with dense spider webs.

Each layer of spider web is exquisitely embroidered with different geometric patterns. It is fascinating enough to observe it alone. When the front and back spider webs are stacked, they are woven to show complex patterns with spatial confusion, which is extremely beautiful.

The longer he observes, the more the bloody smell on the tip of his tongue turns into sweet and delicious drops of dew.

The whole space also began to shake rhythmically, making things shake left and right. More ornaments fell to the ground.

Behind the overlapping spider webs, colorful lights like oil drops falling into the water surged on the surface of the vast ocean, giving people in the room the sensory illusion that they were in the middle of a small boat drifting on the waves.

It was no longer a way to leave.

The sword edge passed across the ground, and the tip pointed to two unknown twisted creatures beside the soft couch.

A string of runes flowed from the tip of the sword, passing through the snow-white marble floor, smooth and moist like skin, crossing several deformed corpses like bright red curtains and decadent flowers, crossing the unevenness caused by several scattered gold and silver ornaments on the ground that could no longer be identified, and cutting into the skin of the two creatures.

Just like splitting the skin and flesh of a plump fruit, in the miserable wailing of the two creatures, all the abnormalities in their skin layer fell off, and the snake scales, wings, and various limbs that were hypertrophied and twisted were all forcibly cut and peeled off by the runes, crushed on the smooth and deformed floor.

Regardless of whether the internal deformation has stopped, ignoring the muscles that continue to bleed pink fragrant blood, they at least look like human beings.

The spell turned into a golden spike, piercing and fixing the remaining hands and feet on the bodies of the two things.

After that, Morse silently used the tip of the sword to split open the chaotic and filthy shell that made up the creatures.

He heard and understood the calls of the two things.

But he would not respond.

If there is a creature that has truly fallen into the path of pleasure, it will surely gain endless joy from the painful call of the first creature.

Its pain is so real that it can make the heart of any sentient being feel as if it is cut by a knife. Each cry begins with a desperate apology and ends with an indecipherable plea.

"It's all my fault, Morse... I shouldn't have listened to her... My ignorance... This is not what I want..."

Morse patiently cut open its skin. The direct contact with the power of the Lord of Pleasure completely changed its internal structure. He could only see a mass of flowing chaos that kept flowing like seawater.

The thing next to it laughed sharply: "I killed him! Are you angry... Nothingness, have you guessed this fate? Hehe, I also told my brother Harkon, I said he should take action, if he fails to betray, he will drown in wine..."

A bottle of aged wine originally placed on the square table fell to the ground due to the shaking of the space. Scarlet wine spilled all over the ground and seeped into the broken limbs of the eldest prince.

In an unnoticed corner of the room, a bird statue symbolizing Isis, the eagle god, fell from its bracket, and its feathers took on a dark blue luster like glass.

The sweet aroma that was so strong that one could no longer breathe spread rapidly from the dropped wine bottle.

Morse was no longer breathing. More spells appeared from within the black cloth.

He cut off the second layer of the unnameable thing, and the seawater-like contents flowed out, leaving behind an unknown gel-like object.

"I finished that painting. You're right, it's so beautiful..." the thing said, "I didn't have time to complete your model. I couldn't write anymore at that time... Morse, Morse, Morse..."

It continued to shout Morse's name, perhaps trying to grasp the last straw that could stabilize his consciousness in the boundless waves.

"Morse, can you tell me...how are they? My family...my citizens...and your children..."

Morse knelt down, placed the long sword across his knees, and reached into the depth of the gel with his hand wrapped in black cloth.

"I...Morse, can you answer me..." The creature's voice became increasingly unclear.

After waiting for no response, its immobilized limbs trembled, resisting the biological instinct to fight for survival.

"I know... I'm sorry, just kill me..."

The other thing laughed loudly, and its infinite joy raised its voice: "How wonderful, no answer, look what you did! How painful! Cruz's brother, fell into a painful fate with Cruz Here! Destiny, changes... If you don't answer, he thinks that he is responsible for all the disasters, my good brother, he doesn't even dare to plead..."

After talking about it, this thing suddenly shed purple and blue tears.

Morse yanked his hand and twisted out a slender and delicate golden needle, carved like a dagger.

There seems to be a mysterious opening at the edge of the dagger, and endless corrupt luster lingers here.

If there was a mortal here at this moment, even if that mortal did not see, hear or smell, and avoided all sensory stimulation, the concentration of chaos here would be enough for him to learn to play chess with his own blood in an instant.

Morse threw out his long sword and completely nailed the other chattering thing over there. Then, he withdrew his sword and sat down on the ground.

Runes surrounded his fingertips, focusing on sealing the source of pollution on his hands; at the same time, the power distributed on the periphery of the palace began to clean and burn inward layer by layer, destroying all surreal erosion phenomena.

Killing the demon is always the easiest part of the process.

As expected, once the pollution here is completely purified, all crises will end.

At exactly this moment, a smell of rust and blood erupted hundreds of miles away, and the rune beacon Morse had placed at Perturabo issued a warning.

After quickly weighing the pros and cons, he spent part of his power on where his apprentice was, at the cost of the reality curtain where he was suddenly fluctuating due to the imbalance of energy.

The six sources of pollution that were previously completely isolated suddenly shattered, intersecting with the auras of the three important corpses already present in the area. The entire scene shook violently, as if it had encountered a hurricane on the ocean, with everything tumbling and changing.

A long string of sharp, high-pitched laughter exploded in his ears, and the sweet and greasy smell rose at the same time.

Morse dug his five fingers into the marble to fix himself. The moment the sword fell out of his arms, the golden dagger happened to pierce his palm.

The last thing he had time to do was to complete the runes on the sword.

Chapter 46/530
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