40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 238 9. Moon Wolf, Angel, Raven, Bat (1)

"How long will it take?" a deep voice asked, with a slight hint of complaint in his words. It is almost unnoticeable, even to the most observant and sensitive people.

but

"Are you complaining, my dear brother?" The painter holding the brush couldn't help laughing.

There were only two candles burning in the studio, but there was still plenty of light. Of course, this credit cannot be attributed to the two scented oil candles. In fact, most of the light is emitted by the painter himself.

His skin was as white as burning, and the golden radiance gently emanated from his long, silky hair and the wings on his back, caressing the air and making everything else beautiful and shining.

"I thought you already knew it when you promised me." The painter shrugged and said.

"what do you know?"

"It will take us a lot of time to know this." The painter chuckled. "Of course, if you want to take a rest, I'll have a recliner brought to you. You can sleep on it for a while, I guarantee you it will be very comfortable."

"A chair that fits my body shape?"

"I also take rest on weekdays, brother." The painter shook his head in disapproval. "What do you think I am? A Kamalas frozen toothfish that sleeps once a year?"

The model sighed, but still laughed because of the painter's sense of humor.

"No, forget it. Most of the furniture built for you needs to accommodate your wings. I still like to have a solid and reliable touch on my back when lying down, rather than two hollow supports."

The painter raised his eyebrows and put down his brush. It is undoubtedly a beautiful work of art, with relief carvings throughout. The warm ivory white and gilt make the brush look solemn and beautiful, exactly like its owner.

Yes beautiful.

Although I don't like to use this cliché to describe the painter himself, what other words can describe him?

What other words can describe Sanguinius more intuitively?

"I have to say, I'm a little hurt by your words." Sanguinius frowned slightly, pretending to be serious. "Horus, I remember I have spoken many times of the impact these wings have had on me in my life."

"But this does not prevent it from being helpful to you." The original body known as Horus smiled slightly and said.

Compared to his brothers, he is not that handsome. He has no hair, a bald head. Under his broad and resolute forehead is a pair of friendly eyes, which are dark green and mixed with a little brown.

The smile on this face made people feel gentle, but after a brief smile, he also pretended to have a solemn expression, which was quite tacit.

"However, if I have offended you, I will apologize to you." Horus said loudly, and he even bowed slightly to show his sincerity. "So, did I offend you, brother?"

He raised his head slightly and looked at Sanguinius.

The latter sighed, lowered his head slightly, and adjusted his hairstyle: "You really know how to laugh at people, Horus."

"When have I ever said anything to mock you?"

"Yeah, you didn't say that." The angel winked mockingly. "You just turn them into physical actions - OK, stop saying that."

Horus nodded in understanding, and in tacit understanding, he and Sanguinius wiped away the smiles on their faces at the same time, and started a new topic.

"What do you think of the conversation between father and Corax?" Sanguinius stood up, clasped his hands behind his back, and walked around the room that belonged only to him on the Red Tear.

The angel's gait is quite easy and natural, like that of the best dancer or the deadliest warrior. Horus stared at his brother intently, pondering the meaning behind these words.

After a few seconds, which was considered a long time for the Primarch to think, he answered.

"It's been a long time," Horus said. "However, Corax seems to be a person who is not good at words, and father, you also understand his character most of the time. If they want to get along well, it will definitely take some time."

"Indeed." Sanguinius lowered his head in thought. "Horus."

He raised his head and glanced at his brother with a strange look in his eyes, saying nothing more than calling Horus by name. Obviously, he wanted to say something. Horus didn't say anything, just waited silently.

After a while, he told a story in a softer tone that Horus had never heard before, repaying Horus' previous silence.

"I was flying to see him," the angel said. "I still remember the throb when I stretched my back muscles, and I also remember that I flew over many sand dunes that day. The feeling of flying is not as good as you think, Horus."

"Yes, it's great to be able to break free of gravity, but responsibility doesn't just fade away like gravity. I can't remember how long I spent looking for him. All I remember is that when I landed, he wasn't there He greeted me as soon as he opened his mouth."

"It didn't sound like a voice, it was more like."

Sanguinius pondered again.

His room contains many precious works of art. There are solitary works by artists, as well as statues or paintings created by Blood Angels Legionnaires. From beginner's work to masterpieces, everything is included.

The names of the creators were placed in gold-plated boxes next to the works. Each word was written by Sanguinius himself. His cherishment needs no further explanation. They surrounded Sanguinius, but none of them could match his brilliance.

He was the most eye-catching treasure in the room.

Horus nodded slowly and continued his brother's words: "It's more like a feeling of your own, right?"

Sanguinius looked up in surprise, but immediately smiled embarrassedly.

"Yes, how could I forget?" The angel shook his head self-deprecatingly. "You have been with him longer than the rest of us."

"Are you trying to express something to me without making a sound?" Horus raised his eyebrows.

"Oh, please, brother, don't start now."

"Start what?"

"You know what I'm talking about." Sanguinius frowned seriously.

Horus finally couldn't help laughing: "Okay, okay. Go on."

The angel looked at him helplessly, trying to recall the feeling when he was just thinking, but he could no longer grasp it.

He sighed softly and said, "He called me son, primarch, general, part of a great cause. He told me everything, but do you know what I was thinking?" Horus did not speak, but encouraged Sanguinius to continue with his eyes. "Fear." The angel whispered softly. "He did not hide his thoughts from me, he showed me everything. A legion, thousands of glories, endless victories across the stars" "But I can see more, Horus, you know. I can always see more. I also saw the shadows cast by the statues representing victory, and the wailing screams of countless dead in those shadows." "But you still agreed." Horus said in a firm tone. "Everything has its price, brother." "Yes, the price but I agreed to him, in fact, because he also agreed to me." Sanguinius finally smiled again. "I went to see him with the intention of never compromising or giving in. This was a conversation between father and son, but it was also a deal."

"That's why the conversation between him and me didn't last long, but from what I know, my experience is an exception. I'm worried that the time he spent will lead to some bad results."

"Maybe it will even have the opposite effect?" Horus asked.

"Yes."

Horus Lupercal smiled slowly.

"Don't worry, brother." He laughed. "Father will take care of everything, anything, anything--Sanguinius?"

The angel stood there, staring blankly ahead. His gaze was not focused on any point in the room, but on something farther away. Horus frowned and turned his head to look along Sanguinius's gaze, but only saw the walls and paintings.

He strode to Sanguinius' side, looked at him worriedly, and stopped calling out. A few minutes later, Sanguinius just woke up from the state he had just been in.

He panted softly, and his wings fluttered unconsciously. The whistling wind caused the painting board to collapse, and the paint was splattered all over the floor, gradually mixing into a frightening black on the bright red carpet.

"What's wrong, Sanguinius?" Horus asked worriedly.

The angel did not answer, and for a moment, his face seemed to have become a mask. There was no trace of the gentleness behind those eyes, only a cold chill. After a full few minutes, he began to answer Horus's words.

"I saw--" Sanguinius paused for a moment. "--I don't know how to describe what I saw to you, Horus."

He frowned, thought, and broke free from Horus's support, and began to pace again. Sanguinius was obviously lost in thought.

Horus did not speak, but silently accompanied him through this difficult time, even though he actually knew nothing about the current situation. He observed Sanguinius's expression, trying to find some possible clues from it, but found nothing.

In fact, Sanguinius's meditation was quite secretive, without any outward emotion. Twenty minutes later, the angel finally breathed a sigh of relief and walked out of that terrifying state.

"I apologize to you." The first thing he did was to apologize to Horus. "Sorry, Horus, I'm just... a little shocked."

Horus nodded silently.

Sanguinius pursed his lips and turned his head to look at the long porthole of the studio. In the dark and silent vacuum, his eyes were long and far-reaching.

"He is coming." The angel of Baal whispered softly in his native language. "All I can see is very dark."

Update completed.