Chapter 139 The Chosen One
Regardless of region, planet, or even humans and demi-humans, every boy has imagined that he is the Chosen One.
They saw a great thing, so they first determined it in the script of life as the starting point of their star-studded road of conquest, and they tossed and turned for an hour before going to bed every night. Forte sculpted every detail of the most epic scene in the script.
If there are exceptions in this world, then at least Fafnir Lane is not one of the exceptions.
Unlike other boys, even if the fantasies of all boys his age on the planet were counted, Lan still stood out with his unusual wishes.
"I will kill Dorne."
Lan fantasized, wiping his two pairs of small axes, putting them on his waist, letting his mother hold his hand, and sit on his still I don’t know what this is, but it looks brand new. In a semi-floating iron cabin, I followed the tribe to the core of the land of Inwit Yongri, the fortress of Rogal Dorn, the current leader of the Dorne family.
The iron cabin climbs from the underground to the ground, and also crosses the boundary between morning and dusk from the half world of night, and is embraced by the light of the half-extinguished sun into the day, gliding on the smooth ice.
Lan held his hands on the glass window and looked out. The sun was too bright, so he squinted his eyes.
He knew that right here, just one thousand meters below the unfathomable ice surface, a wide underground river was like the blood vessel of the planet, flowing the warm water along the boundary between light and darkness. It is sent to every tributary of the thousands of kilometers of long rivers for hundreds of tribes to make a living on the water.
River of Life - When people move from one ice cave to another, and pass by this underground river, they will respectfully bend over and caress their chests, praising nature's tolerance and gifts.
The Dorne family once controlled the largest tributary of the River of Life, and Rogal Dorne expanded Dorne's territory to the entire Invite and even to several planets beyond.
Lan thought this was unfair because Dorn was the bad guy.
His anger came from a simple hatred - he was still in his infancy when he was found by the Rann tribe on the banks of the River of Life. Two dead men wearing Dornish armor and one were hunted. The female corpse covered with bruises lay beside him.
The murderous intention he cultivated in his ignorance towards Rogal Dorn, whom he had never met, came from the simple values of revenge for his biological mother.
However, as many mythical warriors wearing armor fell from the sky, it seemed that many things were changing very quickly. Just as Lann hadn't figured out what was going on, the iron cabin was running from night to day.
One day the leader of the Lann tribe visited Rogal Dorne's fortress, and no one told him how many people their tribe and the Dornish family had killed each other, and no one encouraged him anymore. , telling him that Fafnir Rann is the chosen one of the Rann tribe.
Later the entire tribe moved to the ground together and lived in a strange but comfortable house. His time to practice knife skills was cut in half every day, and the extra free time was used to learn sewing and cooking.
Fafnir Lane touched his small axe. The sharp ax blade gave the boy a simple sense of confidence. Today, on the day when his mother said, "The Phalanx is about to set sail," he was finally going to meet Rogal Dorn.
This made him eager to try. After talking to his mother, he ran to the end of the iron cabin with a wider view. Although he was still a boy, his ax could already defeat the less strong ones in the tribe. Adult.
The train track twists and turns up and over the snow-capped mountains, and clouds roll past the windows.
Lan let out a sigh of relief and began to draw pictures on the foggy glass with his finger without any knowledge of the teacher. Through the clear glass with the water mist wiped off by his fingers, he suddenly saw a huge building, ten meters, twenty meters... Lann couldn't estimate how terrifying and huge that golden-roofed building was, as tall as the snow-capped mountains themselves. things.
Lan was a little confused and didn't understand how humans could build such a tall building. He shrank his neck back, and for a moment he felt that his small self was being protected by the glass of the iron cabin.
Then, driven by the uncontrollable curiosity of childhood, Lan wiped away more fog and soon became immersed in the buildings in front of him.
There was a faint rainbow light floating around the majestic buildings that he had never seen before, which seemed to be some unknown means of protection. The flying iron tools flying back and forth intertwined like a loosely woven sweater net, busily transporting information and supplies.
Among them is a tower that is countless times taller than the Golden Dome Tower, directly leading into the clouds. The air transport platform unfolds at a level closer to the ground. Countless busy people are like black dots, intersecting with the flying iron machines with wings.
Further up, various conveying machines and closed tracks are connected by cables, like nets cast during fishing.
The huge building rises along the narrowed steel, and the top port is an open platform. Lann cannot estimate its size, it may be dozens of kilometers in diameter. Some flying things fell directly from the sky and stopped at the top of the platform. How they disappeared onto the platform, Lan couldn't see, maybe there was a vertical well there.
Shadows and flickering golden light fell on the too bright surface of the snow-capped mountains, burning Lann's eyes. He vaguely felt that the river of life and the tower were the same thing, and they supported Inwit in the same way. 's lifeblood.
But the tower belongs to Dorne.
Why did Dorne build it?
The boy rubbed his eyes and wiped away the water droplets that overflowed from his eyes. In his memory, Inwit, where people lived by hunting and trading, seemed to have been turned upside down.
He is the Chosen One, and he wants to kill Rogal Dorn.
Lan repeated to himself what he had said a thousand times, touching his axe, a hole suddenly appeared in his heart, a hole that needed to be warmed by new light.
Lan heard a chuckle, which was the air snorting from the nasal cavity, like a prey in the snow mocking a failed trap.
He heard himself speaking and found himself turning around: "Why are you laughing!"
This was a black-haired man wearing a felt hat and a dark brown fur coat with a string of animal teeth and bone fragments on the edge. Been sitting here for a while.
He looks very strange. This strangeness not only comes from the fact that the two parties do not know each other, but also from a sense of alienation between people. He was sitting alone at the end of the carriage, wearing different clothes from others, and his appearance seemed to be somewhat different. Surrounding him was an air that did not belong to Invite.
Lan could not find anything in his dark eyes, which were also holes, a cold hole where a satiated predator drew light.
“I saw you said you wanted to kill Rogal Dorn,” the black-haired man clicked his lips, “That’s what you said with that weird mouth shape.”
"I..." Lann closed his mouth, panicking that he might have done something wrong. What if this guy is from the Dorne family?
"Don't worry." The black-haired man said with a cold tone. His accurate grasp of Lann's psychology made the boy begin to wonder whether the mind-reading ability in Inwit's fairy tales really existed in this world. "I'm not a Dornish, and I won't reveal today's conversation."
"I don't believe you." Lann said firmly.
The man blinked. "Oh," he said, unexpectedly falling silent.
The loner's reticence made Lann uncomfortable. He looked at the other person awkwardly, not sure if he had made him angry. Soon he confirmed that the man's attention had completely left him and fell into a mysterious void. Lann breathed a sigh of relief.
This silence lasted until Fafnir Lane's growing shame no longer supported him in continuing to stand next to the black-haired man and look out the window. He hurried away and returned to the section of the train that belonged to the representatives of the Rann tribe.
Not long after, the track that undulated with the snow-capped mountains, together with countless other railway tracks, fell under the most glorious fortress of Invite like a tributary pouring into the main trunk.
Lan was told that they would transfer to a transport vehicle under the fortress of Rogal Dorn and go to the shadow of the mountain called the Phalanx. As a representative of the Lann tribe, they would visit the Phalanx. The great recovery witnessed how Invite entered a new era.
The boy didn't know what the "Mountain Formation" was. Maybe that's a word everyone is mentioning lately, spaceship, he thought.
He jumped off the train's pedals, and his tribe gathered around him to wait for the next step. Lan touched his pair of axes and thought of the strange man he saw at the back of the car just now.
He soon saw him again.
This started when the soldiers cleared the road ahead of time after receiving the order. They cleared other people off the road to allow the approach of an iron-gray transport vehicle that reflected a deep silver light.
A giant of staggering height got out of the transport truck. His stern expression concealed his extraordinary appearance. Lan held his breath and looked up at the men of steel who were probably three or four taller than him, his upper and lower teeth grinding with tension.
The giant walked to the side of the train, followed by his guards. The five warriors wore armor decorated with yellow and black stripes, and their iron boots collided heavily on the cleaned and re-poured concrete. The powerful stamping sound echoed in Lann's young heart.
When these huge iron armors passed by the boy, he realized so clearly for the first time how the word power manifested itself in reality.
"How's it going, Morse?" asked the giant, using the Gothic language that had recently been adopted throughout Inwit. Lann worked hard to apply what he learned about the language and identify their words.
"The route design is good, and the quality of the train itself is also up to standard. Well done, Perturabo - yes, I decided to praise you."
The smile of the black-haired weirdo came from him A pale face appeared on his face, and the tone of voice was so different that Lann wondered if he and the person he met in the car were the same person. The guy now sounds lazy and casual, with a smile lurking in his every syllable, like some kind of animal that sleeps through the winter, only becoming alive enough in the presence of the right season or person. "Okay." The giant nodded, "I will continue to improve the drawings."
The black-haired weirdo stepped on the ground. Although he looked much shorter than the giant and even the giant's guards, He definitely found a balance in this relationship with these tall humans. Lann was a little envious of this scene.
Then, there was an exaggerated commotion in the crowd, and many people inhaled together, reminding Lan of the way a blizzard tore off the roof. Thanks to the fact that he squeezed into the front row at some point, he didn't have to be dragged around by people.
It was still an iron-grey transport vehicle, and four yellow-armored soldiers walked out of it first.
The armor of these people is not uniform. Two people's shoulder armor is covered with rivets, and one person has a burqa hanging on his armor. There is no doubt, however, that their uniformity of movement and formidable silence, and of course the longer-than-mortal weapons they carry, give the warriors an almost divine majesty.
Subsequently, another extremely tall giant, greeted and guarded by yellow-armored warriors, placed his majestic body under the sun.
The giant's white hair was short and neat, and his light-colored eyes shone like ice and snow on the top of the mountains. Lann caught a little of the giant's gaze from bottom to top, from which he was struck by a cold and gentle look. The firm aftermath of inevitability passed through the mind. His body instantly fell into the same chill as a cold night, as if it had been penetrated by wind, snow or lightning.
This giant - this combination of frost and gold, he is the character chosen by God. No, he can only be chosen by a person who is farther away than the sky of Inwit and closer to the origin and end of all things. The Eternal One.
The first giant nodded to the second giant. "Ready?"
"Climb up the mountain formation and check the last round." said the white-haired giant.
"You can choose to believe it or not," the black-haired man said, "you will succeed. But if you must check it twenty more times and calculate the data forty times, I have no objection. Roger ·Doane.”
Roger Doane. The name struck Fafnir Lane instantly. Is this the person he swore to kill?
At this moment, all the changes in Fafnir Lane's life - the good ones - rumbled past the boy's eyes, and the background of all scenes contained the image of this incomparably great giant. An angular face and eyes as clear as cold crystal stones.
This tall giant brings all changes and sublimations to Invite. Everything they have is due to him.
He tried to recall how his people told him about the death of his biological mother, and how his current mother firmly declared that she would not hand him over to calm the anger of the Dornish people. Deep down in his heart, however, his admiration for Donne continued to grow. The conflicting emotions tore apart the boy's young mind.
"Rogal Dorn." He muttered the combination of words in a low voice, unsure of how much hatred remained in it.
Donne heard him, and his eyes glanced down, but he paid no more attention. The impulse generated by being ignored overwhelmed Lann's will, and he suddenly shouted: "I want to kill you!"
Rogal Dorn's gaze returned, and Lan began to gasp. Yet part of him still took pleasure in being looked at.
"Your name," Dorn said to him.
"Fafnir."
"Lan." The weirdo in black robe added his last name.
Lann's adoptive mother pushed through the crowd and rushed to his side to kneel down for him, but a ray of golden light held up her knees. This ray of light swept through the scene, forcing everyone to fall into silence.
"Lan," Dorn said, "the non-threatening family has surrendered." He said the words that were close to insult in the most objective tone.
"Cissero, Aeolus, put down your weapons."
The two soldiers put away their guns.
"Why do you want to kill me." Dorn asked calmly, "Tell me how you are dissatisfied with my rule."
"You did a good job, we Thank you." Lann said, his heart beating too fast to count. "But the Dornish family killed my mother."
"Who is she?"
"I don't know." Lane replied.
Another giant walked up to Dorne: "There is no need to reflect on whether there is something wrong with your rule, brother. Apparently there is no wave of resistance among your citizens."
"A No boy can hate without being incited," Dawn replied, still looking at Lan.
“There is no longer the echo of the voice of hatred in his heart,” the black-haired weirdo said, cruelly peeling off the disguise in Fafnir Lane’s heart, “He just wants to attract you. Let you Hear him.”
"You're crying, Lann," Dawn said. "What do you want?"
Lan was speechless. Tears frozen into ice.
"I will remember you." Donne said, no longer lingering.
The giants, their guards, and the black-haired weirdo returned to the transport truck one after another.
It wasn't until they completely disappeared in front of the crowd that the golden light lifted the blockade. Lane's mother hugged him and held him tight.
Lann stood numbly. Looking past his mother's hair, he saw a circle of light gradually lighting up on the shadow in the sky.
I am the false chosen one. Lan thought. The tribe lied to me.
And Rogal Dorn. He chose the sky.
——
"It's running normally, I mean, everything is running normally." Morse listened to the sound of the mountain formation, opened his eyes, and gave the two busy giants A clear answer.
They nervously raised their heads from the countless flowing data, glanced at each other, and both breathed a sigh of relief.
"We have revived the Mountain Formation." Perturabo said. This grand project made the Iron Lord equally happy, although at least half of this joy came from the fact that he had obtained almost all of the Mountain Formation. All drawings and data.
Morse would not be surprised if he ordered Olympia to build Olympia's own Phalanx within ten minutes of returning to the Iron Blood.
"Thank you, brother." Dorn smiled. "This will be my gift to the Emperor."
"Then remember to remove your daily necessities from here before giving the gift." Perturabo said, "For example, your small blanket."
"Oh, I think you can keep it," Morse said. "I bet the Emperor will give it to you after receiving the gift. Why go to the trouble of leaving and taking the items you need, such as a rug."< br>
Donne did not answer.
Since Perturabo discovered Dorn's little blanket, he finally confirmed that there is really something shy in the world that can trigger this stone.
"Then, set sail." Perturabo said, "I will continue to move towards Ultramar. What about you?"
Dorn was about to speak, the next moment , a bunch of artillery shells that came from an unknown distance, drifted in a very strange way, and flew everywhere with their accurate heads, accompanied by a large number of sparks and oily smoke, tickled the void shield outside.
Although these inexplicable gadgets caused no harm, Dawn still looked up cautiously. At the same time, a sense of crisis that was extremely rare for Rogal Dorn's rationality was spreading deep in the heart of the White-haired Primarch.
(End of this chapter)