40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 188 13. Melted Steel (1)

"What does it mean?"

The roar of thunder resounded, and the giant on the throne slowly stood up.

Is he angry?

Maybe, but you can't tell his specific emotions.

His face was too cold, and his sharp lines made him look like there was no gentleness at all. The bridge of the nose is high, the eye sockets under the eyebrows are deep-set, and the black eyes behind them have a chill that spreads from the heart. He had no hair, and the complicated and regular cables were tied together behind his head, dark and heavy, like butcher's nails.

And Khalil Lohars knew that they were not.

He smiled.

"What do you think?" he asked softly.

The giant didn't answer, and his eyes fell behind Khalil.

Two minutes ago, the last Iron Warrior to walk out closed the door from the outside. The hall was empty, with no tables and chairs, only a throne made of steel. The long light tubes were cleverly hidden on the iron-gray ceiling, emitting a pale light.

Otherwise, the entire hall is startlingly plain—no decorations, flags, paintings, or anything. There was only Perturabo himself, the Primarch of the Iron Warriors, and the Midnight Blade instructor Khalil Lohars whom he was meeting.

And the atmosphere between them is definitely not good.

Perturabo looked away, but still maintained a masterful gaze. Only those who are extremely rational can observe others in this way. He stared closely into Khalil's eyes and frowned slowly.

"You wish to board the Blood of Steel, and I agree."

He spoke in a low voice.

"You wanted to have a private conversation with me, and I also agreed. And this is not out of my respect for Konrad Coates. I have never met him. The reason why I agreed to you is nothing. I ask for it because I respect you, Khalil Lohars."

"You took six thousand men to attack that fortress from the rear in a surprise attack, but don't think that I will thank you for it. Your actions took away the opportunity for my warriors to prove themselves. I tolerate you because I I have some respect for you during this raid, and now I'm losing that respect for you."

"Should I be afraid of this?" Khalil asked.

Perturabo seemed to smile, but didn't seem to. He stepped off the throne and stood on the red carpet where Khalil was.

"As you wish," he said. "But I ask you to explain to me what you just said."

"Which sentence?"

"You know better," Perturabo said sarcastically.

"You never came with good intentions from the beginning. You have been planning this scene since before you boarded the Blood of Steel, right? Khalil Lohars? You specifically claimed that you have descendants from my brother. You want to give your gift to me alone, and you want to talk to me alone just to say that self-righteous statement."

"Do you think I will be angry at your words? You are wrong. Eltros's death was his own fault. The order I issued is very clear. I will see them advance to six hundred meters directly in front of the fortress within fifteen minutes. Mi Chu, he failed to do this."

"So, that's why you let him be beaten to death by his brothers' own hands?"

"Eleven killings are an ancient punishment." Perturabo replied coldly. "It originated from the ancient history of mankind. It is very fair. I have designed a machine specifically for this purpose. Didn't you see the scene where they drew lots?"

"They did it voluntarily because they knew they had made a mistake. Moreover, this mistake was caused by their incompetence. Moreover, I only let the officers headed by him carry out eleven killings, which is merciful enough. ”

Khalil nodded thoughtfully.

"Do you understand?"

"No."

"Ha." Perturabo smiled—for the first time, he visibly smiled to some extent.

"I'm not surprised that you don't understand. Many people can't understand, but I'm too lazy to explain anything to you. Now, explain to me what you said, what does 'Sergeant Elteros' mean?" His death will be blamed on me'?"

"Just like you heard, literally." Khalil replied softly. "No metaphors, no hints, just literal meaning. I think his death is on you, that's all."

"He died of incompetence." Perturabo seemed to be irritated, and his tone became a little more serious.

A hint of danger began to flow between his brows and eyes, but Khalil did not make any move. He just stood there calmly, and the tone he used when speaking even sounded as calm as a teacher teaching students.

"The incompetence of soldiers is usually the result of generals."

"That's enough." Perturabo shook his head. "There is no need to continue this conversation - you, and those you have brought with you, can all leave my ship."

"Markbearer Malcador gave an order for us to come to help you and your legion."

"You are challenging my patience." Perturabo frowned again, this time there was a subtle difference from the attitude shown before.

He was silent for a moment and spoke again.

"I have never liked Malcador. He is too old and too stubborn. I don't understand why my father values ​​him so much, but I don't care. He is just an old mortal who is dying."

"I followed the orders he issued on behalf of my father, so I accepted your so-called 'support', even though in my opinion I don't need your pitiful six thousand people at all."

"Let me put it clearly to you, Khalil Lohars, so that you know that I am not a tyrant or a self-righteous fool. I know that you do not understand the strict discipline within my Legion, and I never ask for more. Any one of you can understand that."

He paused for a moment and emphasized his tone.

"This is my legion, do you understand? And I will not allow any outsider to tell me what to do here - besides, in what capacity do you say these words to me?"

He endured and endured, and his patience was finally exhausted in this cold and powerful words, while Khalil did not even express any opinion at all, he was just silent. Perturabo smiled again, this time, a mocking sneer.

He spread his palms, his white teeth exposed behind his open lips, and his anger clearly flowed: "Do you want to cause a diplomatic incident? You came to my ship, my flagship, and then accused me of disregarding human life? Don't forget Your own position, Khalil Lohars!”

"Yes, I know that you have a special status, so special that my young brother, who I have never met, is even willing to let you come on his behalf. I also know how powerful you are. Luo Jia told me everything in detail. He He smiled bitterly at his own stupidity, and even said he was sorry to you at the banquet, but I didn’t care.”

"Listen to me, I don't care about the support you bring, I don't care about your power, and I don't care about Malcador and his mission written on the rotten parchment!"

"You came to my ship, spoke nonsense to me, questioned my plans for my legion, and even claimed that I had failed my heirs. Why did you say these inexplicable things to me? Don't you think it's all a little ridiculous? ?”

Khalil sighed slowly.

Yes, it is indeed ridiculous. He himself didn't even expect that things would take a turn for the worse.

They came to this remote planet carrying Malcador's orders. Perturabo and his legions are waging a brutal war against the locals. The locals' resistance is extremely tenacious and they have an extremely strong hatred for the Iron Warriors.

This hatred fed back their will to fight. Coupled with the ubiquitous and dangerous fortresses, the Iron Warriors' attack stalled, and this reason was not only because of the local people's determination not to surrender, but also because of the Because Perturabo stretched the front very long.

He has a grand plan to attack all the fortresses on the planet at the same time, but the numbers of his legion at the moment do not support him to do this.

After a brief exchange with Perturabo on the Night Veil, Khalil decided to take the 6,000 men of the Midnight Blade directly to the west of the battle line, and helped a group of 700 men led by Sergeant Elteros. The Iron Warriors team captured a fortress.

This fortress is a transportation hub and plays a very important role in the tactical strike map planned by Perturabo. Then, after the victory.

Sergeant Elteros died.

The command comes from the sky, from the orbit. Spoken by the giant who was standing in front of him at the moment, his words seemed particularly impatient amidst the hoarse noise of the communication channel.

This is what he said at the time: "Eltrus, you have betrayed my trust and the oath you swore."

At that time, the Night Blades were still mopping up possible enemies in the fortress, so they were not aware of what was happening on the other side of the position. Until they left and reunited with the Iron Warriors.

Sergeant Elteros's team won the victory, but did not show any sense of victory. There was no joy on their faces, just a deep sadness and the numbness that came with trying to hide it.

Khalil asked them what happened and where the sergeant who was working on the battle plan with them on the communication channel was.

He got his answer half a minute later, he got a twisted corpse.

Eleven kills.

No weapons allowed, no attacks on vital points, no mercy. The nine men attacked their commander with their bare hands.

Beat, beat, beat. The bones were broken and the flesh and blood were blurred. How tenacious is the vitality of the Astartes? According to the Iron Warriors, Eltros did not speak any words until the last moment of his life. He just suffered in silence, just like the nine brothers who attacked him.

"Yeah." Khalil said softly. "Yeah, that's ridiculous."

He held out his right hand.

There are two chapters left, updated today.

Silly criticizing the ruffian boss, you are really difficult to write about.