Chapter 256 The Long Night Ends
"He really knows how to make the atmosphere scary," Morse said, pulling apart two layers of black and purple overlapping gauze, changing the scene of the amphitheater below. More clearly.
Under the distinguished box on the second floor where they were located, Konrad Curze's throne was hidden behind a thin but excessive layer of fur curtains, leaving only a hazy glimpse of the Primarch's huge body. contour.
Below the throne, every stone step is covered with a layer of solidified blood stains.
The composition of these blood stains is divided into two halves. The first part comes from the sacrifices killed by Curze's followers during the midnight ritual of death three days ago; the second part comes from the behavior of the followers coming one by one to cut off their own faces.
Perturabo watched the entire process, and he actually used his anxious body language to explain what it meant to be restless.
"There's something about this..." he whispered.
"Excessively bloody?"
"No need, in my opinion." Perturabo said, and immediately added, "Only in general terms. The Dark Spirit The race is particularly unique, which is understandable."
At the end of the sentence, Perturabo added hesitantly again: "He should not use this method on his own Space Marine Legion."
"That's not necessarily the case," Morse put down the gauze, sat back on the Comorian lounge chair, picked up the wine bottle, poured half a glass for himself, smelled the unique fragrance of the scarlet wine, and took a sip. , "The Astartes have helmets, and we don't have to guarantee what they look like inside the helmets... Okay, okay, I won't scare you, big robot."
Below, several people belong to Kang La The new servant of the remains, who had already put on red gloves, carried an empty coffin made of black crystal to the center of the venue.
In the coffin, a pool of flowing black blood accumulated on the dark bottom.
"Asdubar Victor," Perturabo read out the Eldar name burned with charcoal on the coffin lid, "did he really not expect that he would die?"
Morse took another sip. Unexpectedly, he really liked the fragrant and sweet taste.
"Oh, about him, that guy came to me to verify one thing, that is, his genes seriously conflict with Conrad's blood potion, and he will die if he drinks it. Our Curze will definitely resurrect him anyway," he lowered his voice. The voice said, "It's pretty bad, right?"
In fact, Morse was more curious about how Conrad Coates collected Victor's blood. After all, the body of the Archon of the Black-Hearted Conspiracy was... destroyed completely.
"Eldar." Perturabo snorted, rubbing his fingers on the map of Inferno that recorded the map of the Webway. He is still exploring the secrets in the drawings these days.
"Dark Eldar, now they have a new name." Morse corrected.
In the amphitheater, the colorful clowns enter the venue through various tumbles and jumps from the sky and the shadows.
Different from the splendid and flashy performances in previous performances, they put on new spring green uniforms with a relatively uniform tone this time, chose an aria symbolizing rebirth as the background, and used dance steps, songs and spiritual energy to weave a unique vitality effect. The space is filled with bright sparks of life.
This makes their dance easier to understand and watch.
If these Eldar actors had not regarded the dark brown blood stains on the ground as the soil for cultivating the foundation of life, perhaps the impression of this dance would be much better.
"Although they have always tried their best in their performances, after seeing so many gorgeous things, I still like this more normal dance."
Morse commented, putting down the crystal Cup, open your perception, and your consciousness touches the spiritual waves stirred up by the clown's singing and dancing in the field below.
"I always feel like they are saying that the bloody night is over. Then there will be a happy and clean reconstruction, with the new king ascending the throne, pardoning the ministers and so on."
"The night is indeed over, said Perturabo, not entirely focused on the amphitheater.
After the previous battle with Vastor, with the help of Morse, the Lord of Steel successfully intercepted some of the knowledge remnants of the ancient Eldar's technological peak.
As for the intercepted part of the essence of chaos, Perturabo will certainly not take it; now, Morse takes that part of power and waits to slowly purify it.
In their heyday, these Eldar tribes created many artificial life forms and automatons to assist them in the reclamation and fighting of wild planets. This leaves them free to focus on pursuing the ultimate perfection in art and a high degree of praise for extreme self-satisfaction.
Regardless of the fact that the ultimate outcome of their pursuit is to create great things, in terms of technology and architectural aesthetics, Perturabo still quite agrees with many of the designs of these aliens.
In the past, he would never have played these alien tricks within the scope of the human empire. But looking at Konrad Coze's attitude of wanting to directly lead the Eldar auxiliary army to conquer the galaxy, Perturabo couldn't help but secretly sigh, maybe he didn't have to abide by the rules too strictly.
In addition, for a very brief moment, Perturabo also saw the unique extraordinary vision of the subspace Chaos Demigod. It is a kind of gaze that is higher than the level of time. It is a perspective that regards the future, present and past as one transmission gear after another on the same level in the huge cosmic machine.
Different characters flashing by quickly, interlocking events and causes and effects, these complex contents are mixed into vague engine power, pushing the entire universe to slide one-way into the future along the sling of time.
Maybe this is Conrad Coates’ perspective. he thought. The prophet's perspective.
Perturabo lowered his head and looked at the album in his hand.
In this high-level vision, in a non-existent moment, he actually saw the hazy face of the painter who passed away in an instant, and the scene seemed to be a confrontation. But he failed to see clearly.
Perturabo gave up the futile recollection for the time being and allowed his thoughts to drive this active map, drawing the path of the Webway that he expected to see.
Considering how long ago this map was created, even if he has determined that this map was made by humans, the names of most of the places on it unfortunately have nothing to do with the new naming rules of the current human empire.
Most of the time, he could only update these ancient place names step by step through the relationship between star clusters.
However, the naming of the Ultramar sector has not changed since ancient times, and the word "Macragge" is very conspicuous.
Perhaps it would be an option to take advantage of Robert Guilliman's territory and then return to his army.
Below the high platform, the Pied Eldar in the amphitheater finished singing a song. Conrad Coates, who was hiding behind multiple layers of fur, stretched out his long pale fingers and shook them gently toward the center of the theater. .
Although the Bloody Marquis was almost silent today, the audience and actors in the theater always had one eye staring at every move of the Bloody Marquis on the throne. After the events of Black Sunfall and Midnight of Death, the Bloodlord has become a new generation of uncrowned Lord of Commorragh.
The troupe received the message, changed their formation, stood next to the empty black crystal coffin, and formed a circle.
In the midnight of death, the majestic spiritual energy condensed from the dark pain of the entire Youdu was gathered in this resurrection ceremony. The twisted rope of psychic energy passes in front of the dark sarcophagus, turning into a viscous river that can be sensed even by those who are not psychic; the etheric rain fills the empty coffin, blending into the occult and Asdubal Vik Among the residual bloodstains that are most closely related to the special.
A surreal crack gradually widens, and the flowing river of rejuvenation energy rolls into a surging vortex, pulling the withered soul back.
Morse cheered up and monitored the surrounding psychic environment, checking for opportunities for the subspace unborn to take advantage of the opportunity. Even if there were no omissions in the resurrection ceremony in which the Pied Eldar were personally inspired by the Laughing God, there are still many details that require special attention in this dangerous process of connecting to the Ethereal Ocean.
Psychic sparks flashed around the black sarcophagus, and all the noise in the amphitheater seemed to fall silent. Under the blood lord's high throne, the sarcophagus of the newly born person gradually emitted a light full of power.
The clowns held hands and concentrated on maintaining the stable position of psychic energy. The energy flow is injected into the blood pool, and the original matter gradually condenses.
Gradually, the blood pool surged and sank, like an ebbing tide, revealing a pale skeleton born from the blood. Then, as the blood continued to fall, cartilage, tendons, and ligaments took shape, and muscle tissue flowed like molten marble, fixing into brand new limbs and torsos.
As the blood gradually bottomed out, the skin began to grow, covering the surface of the almost non-existent fat layer, outlining the real outline of the resurrected person.
At the last moment of the ceremony, the released psychic wave swept through the entire theater in an instant. Everyone was so shocked by the vigorous life force born from pain that they even forgot to breathe. A deathly silence enveloped the entire theater.
There was a soft sound of the curtain moving from the throne.
The bottom of the hard boots clicked against the long blood-stained steps. The back of a scarlet cloak hung solemnly, decorating a midnight blue costume.
Conrad Coates opened the leather curtain, walked down the steps step by step, and came to the center of the amphitheater.
He didn't say a word, his palms touched the black crystal cover, and he stared at the body of the sleeper in the coffin through the transparent material.
Then, the crystal cracked, a lightning-like pattern cut through the cover, and the crystal fell, exposing the resurrected body to the air.
The resurrected man suddenly opened his eyes, which were almost pure black within the light and shadow of the black crystal. He looked at Conrad Coates and held out his hand to him.
The Blood Marquis pulled up the upper body of the resurrected person, and the broken crystals slipped from the latter's body like a drizzle.
"Honor our Bloody Marquis, Lord of the Royal Court, God of the Dark City, Konrad Curze." Asdubar Victor's voice was hoarse and resolute. "Magnificent, Lord of the Night."
Everyone in the theater woke up from the silence and knelt down on one knee towards the center of the amphitheater.
"Long live, the true God who reverses life and death, the dark muse who presides over punishment. Please have mercy on us according to your love, and wash away our sins according to your abundant mercy."
< br>"Awesome, Lord of the Night."
——
"I still think Macragge is more..."
"This is my request, brother." Curze said politely, if not considering that he had already pestered Pei. Turabo muttered for more than ten minutes, "Can you please look for me on the webway map to see if there is an entrance or exit close to Nostramo?"
Perturabo stared at what he had just obtained. The brother with the status of Muse of Youdu sighed in frustration.
“I know you really want to go to the theoretical home planet where you should have grown up, but there, if the Emperor had not discovered it decades in advance, it would still be a place that has nothing to do with the Empire. Why don't you return to Terra with me, meet the Emperor, and bring your own army there? "
"I can take my court with me," Curze said. "I also need to take them into actual combat, Perturabo."
"You can return to Terra first and present your achievements to the Emperor, and he will recognize your actions..."
Curze raised a hand quietly, interrupting Perturabo's statement.
"Perturabo, don't worry about me starting a midnight ritual of death on my planet, I won't do that easily."
"Yes, I can If a massacre is launched against the planet at any time, I do not object to staining my hands with blood, but at the moment, I have no anger to vent to everyone. I... know the lowest level that life can be corrupted, and I also know that their souls. Where can a clean spark break out?”
Perturabo opened his mouth, glanced at Morse who was leisurely watching a play not far away, and gave up any further debate.
He originally wanted to advise Coze to inform the Emperor of his royal court, but in a sense, the Emperor, who resolutely opposed the aliens in all national policies, was still essentially a Cold pragmatist.
"Okay," he agreed with Curze's suggestion and spread out the map of Purgatory, "Let's go to your Nostramo first. I'll take a look, and you should also pay attention to your planet appearing on the map. Which corner of..."
Koz nodded and approached Perturabo, with bright light blue lightning patterns flashing on the dark blue robe.
Perturabo's hand turning over the drawings suddenly paused, and a flash of light higher than the timeline passed through his mind.
In an instant, he finally saw the creator of this album clearly again.
It was a tall woman, wearing a skirt that reached her ankles. The dark blue fabric was dyed with various brilliant colors using batik technology. A purple-blue gauze covered her shoulders from the top of her head down, covering her skin as smooth as sandalwood. Her eyes flashed with sad light blue lines.
"How could you, a cunning person, deceive me like this! How could I silently accept such absurd behavior! If what you did was true, I would rather abandon the webway map in an invisible place, This cruelty will not be tolerated in the world!"
Peturabo pressed his forehead, immediately took out a pen and paper, and quickly sketched out this man's anger before the memory faded again! and record what she said.
Morse appeared beside him at some point, staring closely at the sketch on the manuscript paper, his brows furrowed in a rare deep frown.
Tens of seconds later, Perturabo put down his pen and asked, "Do you know her?"
"Oh." Morse blinked. "That's Erda."
(End of Chapter)