Chapter 255 Death at Midnight
At the end of the 30th millennium of human chronology, the blood cells of the Primarch Konrad Curze were diluted, copied and cultivated twice, and turned into a A sweet rain of blood followed the sky fire brought by the star Ilmea and poured it on the land of Commorragh, an important port of the Ancient Eldar Empire.
A drop of blood was born from the damaged scar in the sky, and was caught by the seam of the spire on the top floor of the Dark City. Then it followed gravity and flew out of the eaves, continuing to fall towards the purple-black city.
Its curved surface reflects the outer walls of high-rise towers that were melted by the intense heat. In the gap in the outer wall, half of the dead Eldar's face and black-green helmet melted until the skin and flesh were connected to the gold and iron. The panic in the last moment of life can be vaguely seen on the remaining half of the skull's face.
The gorgeous sword inlaid with opal and turquoise in his hand was also pierced into the torso of another of his kind, which was evidence of his crime.
The blood rain continued to fall, and the water-red surface reflected the brilliant golden and white firelight, painted with melted broken glass, and charred wooden window lattice. Next to it, a torn off warrior arm fell side by side with it until the arm fell on a spike-like horizontal flagpole protruding from a hall.
This is also a blood-stained hand, a hand punished by heavenly fire.
Raindrops passed through many modalities at the top of Comoros and entered the upper levels of Comoros. The nobility and church once controlled this prosperous and luxurious area and controlled the trade blocks of the old empire. Its perfectly curved surface rolls past ruined banquets, ruined costumes and mysterious toppled statues.
As it passed a jumble of twisted metal and half-collapsed masonry, two standing figures flashed across its surface.
The tall weirdo in the midnight lightning robe and the pale Eldar in black armor stood side by side at the edge of the precarious dark hall, staring blankly at the rain of blood from the sky to the ground.
And the raindrop just fell, and fell, until it entered the Lower Comoros.
This port and labyrinth is full of the old glory abandoned by the Eldar. Whether it is the dark structure shrouded in fog inside or the fleets and aircraft parked on the edge, a large number of them were burned in the star Ilmea. The scorching burning objects brought by it, and the harassment of demons.
The black sun falls, and violence is destroyed by greater violence. Every Eldar who died here had in their blood the grave sin that was brewing the Great Fall.
The bloody rain witnessed one desperate battle after another: Eldar and demons, demons and demons, Eldar and Eldar.
Bleeding is flowing from their bodies, and their skin is connected to the air.
The blood rain waits for its chance, letting air currents and gravity take it to that final option, just like other raindrops do.
Crack. Raindrops fell on the head of a haggard Eldar, sliding along the pointed ears and down the side of the neck. The Eldar who had just finished the battle wiped it away, bringing this drop of rain and more blood rain into the shoulder wound.
The blood rain penetrates deeply into the blood circulation, and the multi-helical gene chain quickly embeds a large number of new pairs. This violent tampering quickly extended from the blood to the muscles, bones and brain.
The Eldar's eyelids were trembling, and his eyes were constantly switching between a world of blood red and strange hallucinations. He screamed and fell to his knees. His bone cells were on the verge of collapse, his skin became dark, and his hair Every inch was stained pale.
Eventually, after a series of unknown genetic rearrangements, his condition was fortunately stabilized.
When he looked at the world in front of him again, he felt that everyone was exuding the unbearable stench of blood and the smell of sin that deserved punishment.
This smell also existed in his own body, filling his heart with deep hatred for what he had done in the past, and wishing he could die.
At the same time, the image of a noble and clean Midnight King was deeply rooted in his fantasy. Every time he thought about it, he wished he could kneel down and offer a gift to the king on the spot, offering a bloody flag to cleanse his sins, and transform into a sinless person from then on.
——
"Hexakaris calls your idea a rare work of genius," Victor said, his left hand holding his aching neck, his voice hoarse, "This potion allows the Eldar to unconditionally dedicate their body and mind to you. He mentioned that this blood potion has side effects, that is, the user will have a preference for skinning, but I immediately knew that this was exactly the effect you wanted..."< br>
He put down his left hand, turned his head and glanced at Conrad Coates, who was pursed lips and staring at the rain of blood, and continued to narrate.
“I asked him to improve the potion, and surprisingly, he said he wasn’t sure how far he could go, but that many of the directions for improvement were obvious. You should probably have asked these soakers a long time ago The art of flesh and blood has been practiced for thousands of years, instead of just studying it alone, Conrad."
Conrad Coates snorted and refused to admit that he was not good at it.
For an apprentice on the path of flesh and blood art, his learning time is indeed too short, and two-thirds of his energy is spent on how to resist the old blood puppet.
“What happens next?” He asked softly, his voice low enough for Victor to just hear. "What else did you do?"
"Hexakaris flipped through his ancient human skin classics, and through a large number of experiments, he improved the theoretical survival rate of potion users, lowered the conditions for potion use, and based on your blood, he cultivated a large number of next-generation potion-specific drugs. Blood cells. Now, with just a few drops of your blood and the appropriate nutrient solution, you can quickly create a large amount of blood medicine."
He thought for a moment and added. He said: "Another new side effect is that the aroma of the blood potion has increased. I think you don't mind."
Koz stretched out his hand, and a few drops of rainwater drifted into his hand, accumulating in In the depression formed by the palm print. He sniffed it and licked the blood into his mouth, tasting the taste of the improved potion now.
“Where did this water come from?”
“A liquid planet. The process was not easy, and I got help. The man named Morse, and the members of the Huayi Troupe Commander, they control power beyond imagination," Victor said. He has been busy dealing with the docking between the liquid planet and Comoros in recent days. It was Morse's idea to borrow the dimensional rift of the black sun.
Curze's silence became long, and complex light flashed in his oversized black pupils.
"If they survive the transformation of the blood rain..." he said slowly, each word becoming sour and tingling between his lips and teeth, "then they are half innocent; when They received my order and completed the Blood Flag Ceremony..."
His stomach contracted heavily, and he reluctantly admitted the fact: "Then their sins will be temporarily cleansed. "I will not violate the laws I have made myself."
Strangely, although he was excited and enthusiastic about destroying Commorragh, when he learned that he did not have to judge a world, he felt inexplicably uncomfortable. The burden you are born with is lifted from your shoulders.
The corners of Victor's mouth slightly raised, barely forming a bitter smile. There is still unfulfilled ambition deep in his eyes, but in the end everything must turn to regretful relief.
"This is your territory," he said, "You are already the overlord of Commorragh. After tonight, at least tens of thousands of Dark Eldar will have the honor to kneel at your feet, begging crazily for the chance to wash away their sins. Tens of millions of Eldar will recognize your power again and crawl under your throne. "What about you?" Koz turned his head, "You gave up?"
"Oh, my friend..." Victor's voice was like a heavy sigh, and his fingers trembled slightly, revealing a rare fear. Despite this, there was still a flash of determination on his face. "I am still a sinner under your rules, right?"
He spread out his right hand, holding a miniature test tube. The bright red blood sloshed in the tube and collided with the transparent tube wall.
"Do you think I have any luck surviving the blood potion?" Victor asked.
Conrad Coates focused his eyes on the potion and shook his head, not knowing what he wanted to deny.
Victor smashed the test tube, the glass exploded, and the fragments mixed with blood pricked into his palm. Sweat immediately covered his forehead, and his pale face became like a piece of parchment about to be broken.
Soon, his body began to twist and deform incredibly, like candle wax gradually dissolving in front of a blazing flame. His skin first lost its color, and then slowly became as transparent as black crystal. Finally, his armor crashed to the ground. Asdúbal Victor turned into a pool of gray plasma, flowing silently on the ground.
Kuzz stared closely at the pool of blood, as if looking for Victor's shadow in it. His expression lingered on confusion about this method of destruction.
He slowly looked away from the blood, closed his eyes, and listened to the sound of blood rain falling.
The rain falls on the heads of the nobles, on the heads of the poor, on the heads of the guilty, and on the heads of the innocent.
A few drops of blood were swept up by the airflow, wetting Conrad Coates' eyebrows, and dripped down his cheeks as his facial muscles trembled.
“I don’t need to be an overlord.” The Blood Marquis said calmly and clearly to the rain, “I will definitely leave Comoros, return to the Human Empire, and participate in the expedition; by then, I will definitely need a representative. The Steward, as the secondary leader of the Royal Court, governs this dark city."
"From another perspective, the relationship between the Overlord and the Eldar he rules is too secular, which will also lead to the overlord's rule. ...The power of justice that affects judgment. If I must stay in Commorragh, I will climb to a higher level. Perhaps, the name of the Dark Muse will be the best choice..."
" So, the only one who is qualified to rule Comoros for me is Victor, right? Since he knows me so well, he should have expected that I would give him the actual control of Comoros."
"Victor will not allow himself to die like this... He must have planned his way back from the gate of hell. Even if he has a long-term plan, I have not yet been able to see it. He left me a genetically destroyed body. , Ashes to dust, dust to dust, it seems that he will never be reborn. But I have to believe that he will return to the world in some incredible way."
He opened his eyes and looked around.
"No matter who will bring his carefully arranged resurrection plan, now is the time for you to step from behind the scenes to the front. The secrets in the shadows will eventually be revealed."
< br>Koz’s voice echoed in the half-ruined hall and the rain curtain, with a calm expression. He waited for more than ten seconds, then rubbed the inside of his lower lip with his teeth, bringing out a trace of blood.
“Come out, there is no point in hiding in the shadows.”
Before his nails scratched the palm of his hand, the Pied Eldar hurried into the room from the roof, looking around hurriedly: "Sorry, sorry, you are here... Where is Victor? He's dead? So soon?"
"Avatar!" Curze roared angrily, "Do what you have to do!"
"First of all, I am not the Avatar. I actually have my own name, but I guess you're not in the mood to listen now..." The real troupe leader panted rapidly, obviously he had just run all the way from a distance, "Ahem, that's it, don't rush it, we do have a situation like this that can be used. You also know that this pile of residue cannot be resurrected normally, right? Even the genes are completely destroyed, so we have to use some special method to resurrect him. He paid the price, more blood, more dark power! You are in Commorragh, there is always no shortage of these things, and then we can hold a resurrection ceremony for him..."
Kurze Stare at the troupe leader's mask until the Harlequin begins to try to lean back. He looked away.
"Give me an order to the entire Commorragh," the Blood Marquis said. "Tonight, I hope to hold a thorough bloody ceremony in Commorragh. All members of the royal court who are willing to obey me, I hope they will do it." Kill their guilty enemies if possible. If you wish, you can also offer children who are not guilty of serious crimes to thank me for my justice and mercy. I will train them and select a new batch of potential night ghosts." br>
He thought for a while and named the ceremony: "From now on, this ceremony will be held once a year. I named it, Death Midnight."
Above them , a bright flash of light suddenly lit up on the top floor of Comoros, and the light shone throughout the entire quiet capital in an instant. Curze looked up.
When the light gradually weakened, the bodies of the two giants, magnified countless times, were reflected in the entire sky, and the outcome of the battle between the two was already clear.
A majestic colossus, half of its face made of metal shining with a cold luster, and half of its face covered with lifelike skin, raised its giant hammer high and struck the giant demon that fell to the ground.
The demon's body was huge and deformed, with a hellish current storm surging around it. It struggled to break away from the golden runes wrapped around its body, and its metal wings were broken in half in the process of breaking free.
The metal half of the colossus reflects a cold and decisive light, while the skin half is taut to outline a perfect outline. Before the thunderous hammer hit the demon's illuminated demon skin, the runes condensed into ropes were finally broken and scattered like golden fly ash.
Vastor felt that what he was pursuing could not be obtained today. He couldn't help angrily cursing this damn trap, opened a purple-black spiral in the air, and quickly escaped into the trap before being exiled. The abyss behind.
The phantom of the steel colossus picked up the concept of a small part of the Chaos Demigod remaining here that was forcibly torn off by the golden rune chain, and stood still, seemingly struck by some unknown soul.
Soon, this god-like image gradually weakened, the light faded, and the sky returned to its inherent darkness.
Curze lowered his head and tried to smile, but failed.
"Don't delay," he said to the troupe leader who was still looking up at the battle above. "The light has passed. Now, let death begin at midnight."
(End of this chapter)< br>