Chapter 239 A short story behind the dance
“We are walking into the abyss. The river of life flickers in and out, leather and hooks bring food, that is, hot blood and tearable raw meat; other times, there are Worthless inorganic objects, they will cling to it all until the light fades and the comforting darkness returns, the call to the hunt lurks in the shadows, the lightless hunger for the descendants of those responsible for the Eldar's downfall. Greedily sucking all the essence of life..."
"I must remind you, Konrad Coates, you are using a strange and complicated grammar to describe what anyone with normal vision can do. Invalid details that can easily be seen at a glance."
Conrad Coates glanced down at Morse, the corners of his mouth twisted in annoyance, and when his expression changed, a small piece of dried blood fell from his face. After the dirt fell off from the folds and fell onto his lips, the original body immediately showed a look on the verge of retching, and wiped away the dirt with the back of his relatively clean hand in disgust.
"I am communicating with my brothers, humans." The Primarch muttered dissatisfiedly, staring at what was left after a group of flying black-winged creatures fought with another group of strange predators or scavengers. Wreckage, "Don't interrupt me."
"First of all, I am not..."
"He is my mentor." Perturabo interrupted Morse, and a string of weird Eldar language was simulated in the mechanical throat.
Koz licked his dry lips, shook his head indifferently, and suddenly switched to a human language with a lot of consonants and ambiguous hisses.
"We might as well speak some human language," Curze said. "Even if Commorragh has thousands of weird and unique Eldar accents, I don't want to hear you invent a new one."< br>
"Where did you learn this human accent?" asked Perturabo.
Curze laughed. "Who knows?"
He kept walking, leading his companions through the twisting maze of tunnels, expertly walking through one corner after another, and traveling through the spiral tunnel that was sewn into the eyes of the dead and the remains of the corpse. , until the entrance of a palace-like building appears in front of you.
"My residence." Conrad Curze said briefly, inviting the two of them inside.
After the troupe's first performance, the Pied Eldar floated back to their spaceship. It seemed that they decided to go back and review the successes or omissions in the entire first performance.
Tacitly receiving the hint from the actor of "Bloody Kane", he provoked the whole dispute, directly destroyed the originally stable social order of several families, and pushed the source of all hidden troubles to The Eldar of the Eldar troupe who directly carried out the massacre quietly left after the greeting at the end of the performance and returned to his small conspiracy group, planning the next handful of things that would be sprinkled on the path of his ambitions. Drenched with blood.
Conrad Coates' so-called residence looked tidy on the outside, but it was quite crowded inside. The open space was filled with furniture, gifts and cages that could be seen scattered everywhere, as well as various wooden boards used for building sheds and scattered experimental equipment. Everywhere, every item has been rigorously washed and dried, which is their biggest commonality.
“I live here, you two.” Conrad Coates said freely, yawned, and kicked away a statue of a long-legged feathered spider on the ground that was blocking the way. “Let’s take a rest. , Imperial people. I'm going to the bath to clean myself."
"You don't wonder where we come from, Conrad Curze." Perturabo gently touched a piece with his mechanical finger bones. A low table with sealed flasks and empty test tube racks slid past, "You are not curious about the existence of the empire, and you don't ask about our relationship. You even know my name early, but I know nothing about you."
He paused.
“Except for the fact that you are particularly good at killing people.”
Conrad spread his palms: "Wait until I clean myself, my...brother."
Perturabo shook his head and let him go, waiting for the tall but slightly rickety figure to disappear. In the dark.
The two did not start talking immediately. They each took a short break, spending the mental buffer after the grand banquet in silence, and re-establishing stable interpersonal connections in silence. It was Perturabo who asked the question first.
"He doesn't trust us. This isn't even his real place." The Iron Doll said thoughtfully. "There is residual blood stains at the bottom of the test tube. It is impossible for him not to clean it up."
He sat down on a flat and solid cabinet and turned his gaze to the craftsman who was playing with several gold-inlaid furnishings in the room. His tone added more confusion: "And you haven't said yet, where are you these days?" , Morse. How did you get to know the troupe and the name of Conrad Coates?"
"I heard a steel puppet complaining in human language." Morse put down the ornament and tapped the thin crack on the wall with his knuckles.
"Is this my problem?" Perturabo couldn't help but said, "Morse, I am the only one who is completely ignorant of the whole thing."
"I rely on With strength and a hint of belief in gods, I gained control of a small church. I thought I had made great progress, but whether compared with Konrad Coates or you, I suddenly realized that my actions were not worth mentioning. "
Morse stared at Perturabo's face that was a combination of machinery and skin, until the half of Perturabo's face that still had eyes began to show confusion.
"You have worries in your heart," Morse said, stopping tapping on the wall. Behind the crack, the light of metal flickered quietly under the light of a candle.
"First of all, I think this is indeed Conrad's residence...at least part of the residence."
He said calmly, playing the hungry Him seemed to make the craftsman gain More peace.
“He has no servants, and this is an independent antechamber that he seldom passes by and is sealed with alloy. I don’t think even a Primarch with a serious preference for cleanliness can keep his eyes open from sunrise to sunset. All the time was wasted on cleaning every bottle and can with a brush."
"Secondly, that troupe was sneaking around Nuceria and throwing heads at Angron in the middle of the night. Believer of God. I was invited to board the ship not long ago.”
"Finally, I first learned of the existence of Conrad Coze when..." He was silent for a moment before he was about to tell the year. "Many years ago, during Prospero's chaos, I was in a house. I learned about the existence of Curze in the library, but I can only say that I had never heard of the eighth primarch who was born in Commorragh. It was not until many people mentioned his name at the banquet that I confirmed that this was him."
"The Primarch of the Imperium should not grow among xenos." Perturabo whispered.
“I feel the same, my brother.” Conrad Curze returned. The layout of the leather used in his new clothes had changed again, which forced Perturabo to awkwardly ignore it and stop thinking about how many leather coats Conrad had sewn while squatting alone in the dark.
He walked to the side of Perturabo's intact half of his face and looked at Perturabo intently until Perturabo turned his neck to reveal the other half of his machine.
Xue Lingren stood up straight and stretched his bones.
"I also often come across a delusion that I don't belong here," he whispered dreamily, "Why do I live in the secluded capital? How did I happen to find this beautiful place where I can drink blood and sleep with a knife on my back?" Where is it?"
He lowered his head, his eyes filled with strange frustration.
"Can I hear the answer, my brother who is not meant to be here, Perturabo?"
(End of Chapter)