Chapter 245 Over the Shoulder
The appearance of this Raider airship is no different from other Eldar airships, and even the interior furnishings are similar enough. Warriors, servants, and a few freaks hid in their respective places, wisely turning a blind eye to their fellow archons and strange visitors.
Light penetrates into the spacious cabin from the portholes, and is filtered by the colored glass into a confusing flash of bruised purple-red and uncomfortable blue-green. In the dark background where the light does not shine, iron chains hang down from the ceiling, part of which is binding emaciated corpses, like poisonous dried meat.
The seat Victor chose for himself was wrapped in a hemispherical shield. It was not his real throne, but a looted makeshift tool, so it looked like any old Like the throne used by nobles, it is shining with golden light and uses luxurious and complex patterns to create a deliberately extravagant elegance.
Morse waited for Victor to pick out a few suitable chains from the jungle of chains, and placed the still trembling torso of the Haemonculus Gabbiad, and his soft skin as pale as snowflakes, one by one. suspension.
"Do it yourself, right?" Morse asked, "No need for help?"
The Eldar pulled off an iron rope and passed the sharp barb between Gabbiad's collarbone and first rib. "I don't have the authority to keep my hands clean yet, respected craftsman."
"You can call me by name directly, Victor." Morse stood in the middle of the cabin boredly. , crossed his arms across his chest, and tapped his left arm with his right index finger. "I'm not going to strangle you to death for calling me by my first name...at least Konrad Curze doesn't want to kill you, right?"
"He doesn't want to kill me yet." Victor Taking two steps back, he inspected his work without appreciation, exposing his profile and dark eyes to the craftsman's view. "Morse."
Morse looked at the Eldar and smiled silently. There are ambitious people everywhere in Comoros, and Victor is a particularly typical one among them.
If he now evaluates Victor as a natural overlord, then it is probably based on a fleeting glimpse of the future, which means he is optimistic in advance. In fact, what he saw was more of a little lord who concealed his restless heart and drew energy from his gloomy appearance.
“A few hours ago, the 'Avatar of Vaal' as you call it received a perfunctory gift: a box of dreamstones that were said to be modified to preserve the wandering soul from the prying eyes of the warp. Of course, the gift itself doesn't matter, and it doesn't even matter that the Eldar who gave it is now hanging on your wall..." Morse told Victor, "The only person worthy of attention in this matter is Conrad. ·Kurze. What's important that he can't tell his brother?"
"If this is a test of loyalty, I don't want to be outed in Conrad's eyes, please. Forgive me," Victor replied politely.
"Okay, you passed." Morse said regretfully, noticing a fleet flying low in the sky of Comoros outside the window. Even without psychic amplification, he could see the fleet clearly. Head icon with scarlet sail drawn in the center.
"Church of the Sun." Victor also saw those eye-catching ships. "Head to Konrad Curze's above-ground tower."
Morse said: "This simply gave our dear Val incarnation a sign to guide the way, 'Look, follow us and you will find Curze'... Yes, Curze said nothing to us, this is not It means that the brothers who share the same blood with him cannot weave the clues into the outline of the answer on their own."
He stopped, "The blood is the same? Oh, Perturabo doesn't have a drop of living blood in his body now." br>
He couldn't stop laughing, and his laughter became the only noticeable source of sound in the cabin for a long time.
Immersed in his thoughts, Victor reassessed Morse's existence.
In previous experiences, he classified Morse into the troupe faction of the Pied Eldar under the Laughing God, and regarded Conrad Curze and the mysteriously appearing Perturabo as the same level. The power of - yes, Curze refuses to tell him Perturabo's name and drives a knife through his hand, but that's just a harsh statement on his probing behavior.
Both knew that Perturabo had spoken his name at the door of the church on his first day on the bright stage of Comoros.
When a person tells the news in an unguarded corner of the Dark City, the news will quickly spread from mouth to mouth to everyone who needs to know. people's ears.
Outside the window, a thunderous cracking sound came, shaking the eyes and ears of the Comoros. The Sun Church's fleet opened fire.
Morse looked at the turbulent clouds, and Victor could not see any extra emotion in his eyes.
Not to mention Curze, who is particularly emotional, even the machine named Perturabo can vividly simulate many rich emotions that can be detected by sensitive Eldar in his movements. .
But the craftsman who plays her horny self sees the world as if he doesn't really belong to it.
A few minutes passed, and Victor still did not hear Conrad Coates' voice coming over the radio. He knew in his heart that his ally had fallen into the fantasy of a dramatic script again. At this time, he was probably arranging a recovery plot in his dark mind like a prelude to the climax of the play.
Coates almost unconsciously pursues artistic features that can highlight the legendary and sublime in realistic scenes, as if this can prove that he is a leading actor in a drama, the hero of a story, rather than a sentimental mourning girl. Demon.
A round of surface-to-air ammunition rose up and tore the fluttering sail instantly, and the scattered sparks instantly ignited a blazing fire.
Morse pinched his chin with his right hand: "Let Perturabo handle all this. Where do we go next?"
"Above," Victor said, "the angular tower of spider silk that maintains the angle of the dimensional rift where the Black Sun lies."
"Sounds good, and Perturabo would be interested in this technology. "Morse turned around, "Besides his military talent, he is indeed a craftsman obsessed with craftsmanship."
Victor nodded, and suddenly the topic changed: "There are many intricate roads in the Webway, mine. The Cabal holds part of it, one of which leads to Cordolis, which was once known as Vaal's Workshop."
"Before the Fall, Cordolis was fought over by the Eldar. The world is destroyed by war, but the suspicion of the great treasure hidden there remains unshakable, as the legend of the craftsman Vaal is known."
"Is this your gift, Asdúbal Victor?" Morse asked.
"I don't know what exists on Cordolis." Victor gave his opinion frankly, "I just provided a door."
——
Pe As soon as Turabo entered the building, he knew this was not a place where Conrad Coates would normally come to live.
The half-collapsed towers escape the mud of the outside streets and are spaced with ornate partitions of obsidian, gold and snow-white marble. All the furnishings are decorated with ornate carvings, and slender columns support the empty crystal hall. Extensive laser cuts and traces of bloody battles destroy the original extravagance and give the tower a new damaged beauty.
He kept walking, his mechanical feet briskly stepping on the broken crystals and glass residues on the ground, crushing these blood-stained building materials.
Perturabo followed the spiral steps against the wall, until the steps going up under his feet completely collapsed into rubble, just like the ironic tombstones specially left for the dead female warriors.
He raised his head and saw Conrad Curze looking down from the top of the tower. In the small space that had not been blown up, he could only huddle his huge blood-stained body in the corner of the floor, hiding in the shadow of the rubble.
"There you are," muttered Konrad Curze. "You found this place."
Perturabo yelled directly at the top of the tower: "Get down! I don't understand why you want to-"
"Hide it from you? Deceit. You? Playing tricks, using your name and your reputation to gain my despicable benefits, to climb up the ranks in the alien world and achieve a higher status? "
"No," Perturabo swallowed a word that was as choking as brimstone, "my brother! Why don't you come out of this tower and wait for the light spear to explode on top of your head?"
< br>"Why?" Curze repeated, "I can come out, I can leave this tower at any time." "Then let me make it clear! Why don't you ask for help!"
Koz's body remained still, and then he jumped down and landed silently among the rubble at the bottom of the tower, like a thin piece of paper falling to the ground.
Perturabo estimated the distance and jumped down from the spiral steps. The weight of his fall caused a large number of stones to be further broken and excessive dust spread.
Kurtz coughed, and his pale face took on a waxy feature under the light, while his black eyes with oversized pupils looked like some kind of blind gaze, looking forward through the messy hair.
"I could..." he whispered, "fix all of this."
"And keep your brother in the dark about it the whole time?" Petula Bo glared at Curze, hoping that his expression was still vivid enough for Curze to see clearly: "I never thought you could be such an arrogant person, Curze. Forgive my wording."
"Let's talk in another place..."
"No, Conrad, don't try to prevaricate me. We realize that the problem exists, we can't let it continue... Damn it, this is Donne's line. "Perturabo was even more depressed because he casually said the words Dorn used. "You borrowed my name but said nothing about your plan. I thought you regarded me as a relative?"
Yes, he did not expect Konrad Curze to have a favorable impression of the Empire easily. After all, he had even been using a rather rebellious title to describe the Emperor.
But the Bloody Marquis said nothing on the surface and arranged a series of big plans behind his back, which really aroused some unfriendly associations in Perturabo.
"I'd rather face a Rogal Dorn." He ended with this sentence in annoyance.
Curze's eyes widened. "Who are you talking about?"
"Rogal Dorn, is there a question?" Perturabo said, "The seventh Primarch is also your brother. You have not seen him in the prophecies. ?”
"No, no... I've seen it before," Cozz's expression gradually became trance-like. When he first met Perturabo, the phantom of the Far Sea Battle began to surge in the depths of his memory again, "You would rather face Rogge... Dorn?"
"Yes! He can at least speak clearly!"
"But he is so stubborn!" The corners of Curz's mouth twitched in disgust, and his hands almost couldn't help it. Clenched into a fist, "Treat my warning as absurd nonsense! And you...how could you be related to him?"
"Why not?" Perturabo gave up controlling his temper, He didn't want to hear more questions about Rogal Dorn. It was like hearing people questioning himself, "He is an excellent general, an outstanding emperor, and the most important thing is that he never deceived me." !”
Koz looked as desperate as if he had just eaten a whole Mandela alive. The cold and noble demeanor of the Blood Marquis on the day they first met finally disappeared. In the ruins, his consciousness returned to a more stubborn, unpolished state.
"Okay, Perturabo!" he said loudly, "it seems that I misjudged you and the world I am facing now! Everything I have faced, then I will reveal more plans to you. , I confess my conspiracy and evil deeds to you. Is this what you want, the emperor's spokesperson?"
"What is going on with you?" Perturabo also raised his voice and stretched out his hand. Pointing to his head, "Theoretically, I am the one who cannot confirm whether the brain is functioning normally due to the mechanical structure. I came to rescue you from an attack in the name of my brother. Does this ruin your plan? Or does it? Have I unintentionally insulted your precious dignity?”
“My heart is full of gratitude for what you have done, noble brother, but why should I threaten my friendship? Forcing a Primarch to intervene in the dirty and boring power struggle of the Eldar makes you hate me even more!"
"Why should I hate you?" Perturabo was really surprised. "Are you planning to use Commorragh to attack Terra?"
"Absolutely impossible! It's just that the person in front of you has suffered many defeats and cannot be cared for. He often makes mistakes, speaks unjustly, and cannot be like others. I win people's hearts and become famous for a while; my existence is worthless, all my hard work is often in vain, I am tired of the endless self-struggle, and tired of my own will that is never satisfied; I always have this deep self-loathing, which is even more disgusting. ! ”
"Who are you describing?" Perturabo felt his mechanical components screaming in the place where his brain should be. "Yourself? A man with nothing but success in the alien city of sin? No... you Describing the self in the prophecy?"
He frowned suspiciously, and more speculations arose in his mind: "You see that we hate you"
Conrad Coates's expression. Return to peace. "I'm not sure," he said quietly.
Perturabo was so angry that he laughed. He began to feel that this was some kind of damn personality test, devised by the guy in front of him who had ten times more complex twists and turns in his mind than Robert Guilliman and a hundred times more than Rogal Dorn. Specifically designed to detect his maximum tolerance.
"And, thank you for your assistance, Perturabo." Konrad Curze continued.
"Okay, Konrad Curze." Perturabo gritted his teeth viciously, "I never work for free, so I want to ask for two rewards."
Conrad raised his eyebrows, Hissed: "Please speak."
"First, message sharing. And teach me how to ask for help and ask for anything, otherwise I will no longer tolerate your behavior of borrowing my name privately. "
"Okay." The Blood Marquis said softly, "Second?"
Perturabo approached Conrad Curze and made an invitation to shake hands.
When Conrad reached out, he suddenly grabbed the opponent's arm. The mechanical arm clung to Kurtz's body, quickly turned around, pulled him up towards his shoulder, and using his shoulder as a fulcrum, he immediately bent over and swung him.
Koz fell to the ground on his back and groaned.
"You didn't predict this, did you?" said Perturabo, patting his hand.
"No..." Kurtz answered as he lay in the rubble. "So, are you satisfied with this?"
"Satisfied with what? A successful shoulder throw, or your brother?"
He thought for a moment and squatted down next to Coze. "Not even satisfied, Conrad."
"I can't change it." Coates's black eyes flashed with a dark luster.
“This will not be my request,” Perturabo said. “You might as well make a list of plans for me first, otherwise I can’t guarantee how I will go next. Unintentionally ruining your damn big plan."
Koz smiled, a relatively sincere expression that always looked twisted when he did it. "Thank you, my brother," he said again.
Some irrelevant complaints:
Silversoul, who only came up with infinite loops in chronology m33, has already appeared in The End and Death 2; the flower bean dance of m33 also appears in the novel text before the emperor goes to the toilet; combined with the overall year shift of the bean sprouts chronology, It makes one wonder if the author of the black picture thinks that the weak relatives have already figured this out...
(End of this chapter)
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