40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 208 33. Recruiting (End)

Fer Zharost tried hard to remain serious.

The Chief Librarian was dressed very formally today. He took out the clothes that the former Primarch had just worn a few days after his return.

This was a black robe embroidered with dull gold edges. It was not shiny and did not have many details. But it was much better than the robe or cloak over the training clothes he wore all year round.

His adjutant was different. Adebiman Basri leaned on the steel railing on the second floor of the training ground and stared down boredly. Not to mention being serious, he was dressed no differently from when he had just been released from Terra Prison decades ago.

The same casualness, the same laxity. The black sleeveless top and heavy boots made him look like a gangster responsible for collecting money at a certain intersection - as long as you ignore his overly large body.

Fel tried hard to suppress the urge to sigh and spoke softly: "Are you really not going to go back and change your clothes, Adebiman?"

"Do you really think it makes a difference what clothes you wear to face them, my captain?" The adjutant turned around with a smile. "Why don't I just change into the robes that the Word Bearers are used to wearing, and bring a book with the Emperor's Word, which I copied personally?"

"I don't object to you doing this." Fel smiled dangerously. "In fact, I look forward to seeing you do this, Adebiman."

"No, thank you, captain." The adjutant shrugged. "I'm not stupid enough to do that."

"But you are already as sloppy as those Fenris people." Fel sneered, not hiding his attitude. "Do you also want to get drunk every day, and even drag the auxiliary soldiers to eat and drink together after the battle until they have to accept the punishment for violating discipline?"

"I don't mind alcohol very much." Adebiman deliberately put on a confused expression. "But we don't seem to have worked with them much. How do you know so much, Captain?"

"Because I am the captain." Fel gestured to his adjutant with a throat-cutting gesture. "And you are just an adjutant - so, go back and change your clothes for me right now. Do you intend to let the recruits think you are a gang member?"

Adebiman reluctantly followed his instructions. Seeing that he at least followed his instructions, Fel forced himself to ignore the two ancient Terra slang words that Adebiman said when he left.

He came to the front of the railing, straightened his clothes, and then stared down.

The square of 1,223 did not even occupy one-fifth of the huge training room in the nest, and this was just a training ground in the nest.

They all wore loose black clothes issued uniformly, and their expressions were different. Fel took a while to observe everyone and convinced himself that they were actually children under the age of sixteen - realizing this made the chief think tank suddenly feel stunned.

He didn't see any childishness in the reservists' demeanor. In fact, some of them looked completely weathered.

Being too mature usually means rapid growth, and rapid growth

Fell sighed.

"What's wrong, Chief Think Tank?" A voice sounded from behind him, very soft, almost like the sound of the wind.

"Nothing, Yarod." Fair told their Sixth Captain without turning his head, and made no exception to this sudden voice. "I just think that our recruits probably have some or more psychological problems."

The Sixth Captain smiled silently, and his burned right cheek moved at this moment. The terrible scar slowly turned calm after a few seconds, and he spoke again.

"Don't talk like you don't have psychological problems, Fair. Don't you know who we were in the past?"

"At least 70% of my psychological problems were acquired during the war." Fair finally turned his head away. "And these reservists? Most of them were like this before the war started."

Yarrod shook his head slowly.

"And these problems will only increase, and eventually, time will turn them into people like us."

"People like us? You sound like a messenger of justice, which is amazing. What's wrong, Yarod? Have you found your conscience after serving as an executioner for so many years?"

"I don't have that kind of thing at all." The Sixth Captain replied expressionlessly. "I'm just telling you a fact. No matter what kind of war it is or what method it uses, war is essentially a meat grinder that grinds away humanity. Sooner or later, they will be broken like us."

Fell was silent for a moment, he seemed to be thinking, Yarod patiently waiting for his brother's next answer. But he didn't expect that Fair just laughed suddenly.

"So this is why you like to write poetry." The Chief Think Tank spread his hands mockingly. "Can those self-indulgent sentences help you glue together the little humanity you have left, Yarod?"

Faced with his sarcasm, the Sixth Captain nodded again.

"Very good." He said calmly. "Classic Eighth Legion style - to be honest, Fel, I don't like writing poetry. I just want to find something to do when I'm free. The war will always end, and then where will we go?" Fel Zharost frowned. He restrained his smile and stared at his colleague closely. The expression on that face once made Yarod think that he would suddenly throw a punch, but the chief think tank did not do it after all.

"No, that's not it, brother." He said softly and gently. "Before clocks were invented, there was a profession on Ancient Terra, bell ringers - or something else, I can't remember."

"They would bang an artificial sounding device at dawn as the night ended to wake people from their sleep. Others may still have time to rest, but our war will only end when the clock is invented . We are the bell ringers, Yarod, we will only be abandoned by the times, and we will never retire voluntarily. "

The Sixth Company Commander nodded silently and said in a low voice: "You are so pessimistic that you look like a psychopath, Feir."

Think Tank smiled happily, agreed with his brother, and pointed down the railing. There, a grouping is beginning.

"Let's pick someone," Feier said softly. "I'll choose the twenty-sixth one in the third row, what about you?"

"I choose him too."

"Oh, no, don't even think about it - you're cheating."

"Who stipulates that you can't choose the same person?" Yarod smiled contemptuously. "That guy looks good. I'll choose him. If you don't think it's good, just find someone else."

Fehr narrowed his eyes, and half a second later, he threw the two ancient Terran slang words his adjutant had said to him a few minutes ago to the Sixth Company Commander. The latter grinned and began to exchange these slang terms with the chief think tank in a low voice.

——

Nervous, extremely nervous. However, despite this tension, there is still a little bit of sanity remaining. The boy named Shen breathed slowly and suppressed his emotions, waiting to be grouped.

In fact, although he acted calm, his brain was still in chaos. He still felt uneasy and angry from the dream two hours ago.

Well, let's be honest here - there's not a single Nostramo left alive who doesn't hate the nobility.

No. Unless he has no memory. Therefore, Shen was actually unable to organize complete thoughts to deal with what was going to happen next.

He stood there, and the people in front of him were leaving one by one. The giants, who were wearing black robes and whose faces were so pale that they looked exactly like them, were assigning them dormitories and teams to which they would belong in the future.

Shen was in the third row, so everyone in front of him quickly disappeared. The two giants came to the far right of his row and began to speak to them one after another, in a soft voice that was hard to hear.

He lowered his head and began to keep telling himself that there was no need to be nervous. He took a deep breath, and when he raised his head again, the two giants were already in front of him.

At this moment, the boy's sanity was completely shattered. He had warned himself countless times not to be nervous, but now even his fingers began to tremble at a high frequency. One of the giants smiled, an unfriendly smile.

"Are you scared, boy?" he asked with a chuckle. "Are you going to cry or something?"

"No"

"Answer him louder." The giant standing in front of him said, his voice hoarse, no different from ice.

Shen felt a chill, his back shone, and cold sweat began to break out on his forehead and back. This was supposed to be a moment of collapse, but he somehow managed to hold on.

A sudden surge of calm made him raise his head and speak clearly in Nostramo: "No."

"Call me sir."

"No, sir."

"Very good." The giant nodded to him. Although he praised him, his face remained expressionless. "Your name is Shen? Interesting, but clear enough to remember. You have been assigned to the seventh team. Now, go over there, and the servitor will tell you where to go."

He raised his hand and pointed to a small door on the east side of the training ground. Shen nodded to him and left quickly. His clothes swayed back and forth as he ran, and the cold wind blew past, making his sweaty back feel cold.

Shen felt a sense of relief in his heart, but it did not last long. As soon as he approached the small door, he was startled by something that looked like a human but not quite human.

The thing had a dull, pale face. That kind of white skin color is not something that humans can have, and even the Nostramo people cannot have the same skills in dressing up corpses. It has no eyelids and its eyes are blue. The color that should have been beautiful now looks like a pool of stagnant water.

It stared blankly at Shen, and Shen stared blankly at it, feeling a cold air rushing from the soles of his feet straight to his forehead.

"You" Shen said with difficulty. "You, who are you?"

The thing didn't answer, but tilted its head in confusion, as if it didn't understand. The stalemate lasted for a while, until a sound of mechanical operation came from under its robe. After a while, it seemed to confirm something and actually nodded to him.

"Please follow me." It said dully, and immediately turned around and walked forward.

"What?" Shen was confused. He quickly followed up and reached out to grab its shoulders. The ensuing touch made Shen immediately let go of his hand like an electric shock - he did not feel the touch that a flesh and blood body should have, but a coldness as hard as steel.

It stopped, turned around slowly, and stared blankly at Shen with its eyelidless eyes: "Order?"

"."

Shen Ye stared at it blankly without saying a word.

"Order?" It asked again, but Shen still didn't answer. So, it turned around again.

This time, Shen followed it silently. Ten minutes later, he stepped through the escaping mist and arrived at a room so wide that Shen could hardly open his eyes.

He raised his head and looked at the chandelier candles with burning candles on the ceiling in shock, feeling them burning silently, without even noticing the departure of the servitor. Then, he turned his neck to the left and saw fifteen huge bookshelves.

Thick books stared at Shen quietly on the shelf. In front of these bookshelves are five long tables arranged in sequence, and eight flags are hung on the surrounding walls. There were already many people discussing in low voices below them.

Shen was not a person who liked to join in the fun, so he did not go there. He continued to observe the room, and finally saw a huge stone door behind the long table.

A sigil gleamed on it, looking like a blade that had just pierced the heart.

Shen approached in awe and began to observe closely. He knew that this was the symbol of the Midnight Blades. He stared at this coat of arms for a long time, almost fascinated. This prevented him from noticing the disappearance of the sound in the room and the sound of an extra breath behind him.

It took Shen a few minutes to realize something was wrong - he immediately turned around and saw a man much taller and stronger than him. He was almost as tall as the giants, and the man was staring down at him.

Although the expression was not malicious, it was definitely not kind. A faint smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.

"I'm fascinated by it." The man spoke first. "Don't you know where this is, recruit?"

"I don't know." Shen answered honestly.

"This is the entrance to my room," the man said. "And you're blocking my way - do you know who I am?"

"have no idea."

"I am your commander." The man chuckled. "Can't you see? Now call sir to come and listen."

Shen raised his head and frowned slightly. He glanced up and down at the little giant before giving a negative answer: "No, you're not them."

The smile froze, and Sevita raised his eyebrows, feeling a little surprised, but he still wanted to carry out this improvised trick: "You are so brave, recruit, how dare you say that?"

"Because you don't have their temperament." Shen replied calmly. "And you're not tall enough or strong enough."

Sevita waved his fist at him: "At least I'll give you a good beating. You're really brave. New soldier, what's your name?"

"What's your name?" Shen asked back. This man's performance made him more and more sure of his conjecture. Therefore, he now has no fear at all.

Sevita couldn't help but laugh: "You are really not afraid of being beaten, are you, recruit? Okay. My name is Yago Sevtalion, and everyone who knows me calls me Sevita."

"My name is Shen."

"That's it, gone?" Sevita frowned. "How come you have such a short name? Are you kidding me on purpose?"

"If you are unhappy, you can go to the Third Public Cemetery to find my father." Shen raised his head and said. "He's at No. 16."

"."

Savita narrowed her eyes, then stretched out her hand in annoyance, and quickly but gently pushed Shen away. He put his hand on the coat of arms, and the stone door slowly opened. Next, all the reservists present heard his voice.

"This will be your dormitory from now on. Your biometric data has been entered. Just do what I just did and you can open the door. My name is Yago Savitarion. I came here some time before you. I am the first reserve. "

He pointed at his dark eyes maliciously: "So I am the boss, do any of you have any opinions?"

"I have an opinion." Shen said. "This is gang style and you shouldn't have brought it here."

Savita lowered his head silently, stared at Shen, and shook his head slowly.

"Is there something wrong with your brain?" he said. "Do you really think I won't do anything to you?"

"You can try." Shen puffed out his chest. "Unless you kill me on the spot, which I bet you wouldn't dare."

"What are you betting on? Your life?"

"Yes." Shen nodded. "The Midnight Blades are the Emperor's Eighth Legion. They are the judge, the punisher, the judge and the executioner. But only if they are not nobles or gangs. You can kill me, but you will be killed by them."

The boy who was young and much shorter than Sevita suddenly sneered, and an emotion that seemed familiar to Sevita suddenly emerged on his face, making Shen's expression look extremely ferocious.

".I swore an oath, and so did they. So if you want to kill me, then do it."

Savita turned his head and happened to see the reservists quietly approaching. None of them are as tall as him, nor as strong as him, nor do they know as many ways to kill as he does now. But they surrounded Sevatar without fear.

One thousand two hundred and twenty-three pairs of dark eyes were shining, staring at him wordlessly.

"They will avenge me." Shen said softly but firmly. "And what can you do, Yago Severtarion?"

Sevatar blinked, and half a minute later, he smiled.

"You guys are so damn funny," he sneered. "Come in all, I'll show you around the dormitory. Tomorrow, you won't be so strong anymore. And you, Shen."

He lowered his head and looked into the latter's eyes.

"I remember you," Sevatar said softly.

"Me too." Shen replied seriously.

update completed.