Chapter 290 S.B.R
"Uh..." Magnus read the psychic ripples they cast in the subspace, and deduced the whole incident from the mouths of the quarreling Space Marines.
To this day, he still thinks it is incredible that this thing could happen. This was neither in line with his imagination of the Emperor's Children, nor with his impression of the Eighth Legion, or even with the habits of Konrad Curze, whom he did not yet understand, but Perturabo was willing to give his deep trust to. Some ways of conducting themselves are very different...
To correct one thing, if Sol Sahar, the company commander of the Night Ghost Court, did not lie, then these people are decorating their armor with little bats. The behavior of the soldiers above is understandable. Justice, fairness, Magnus knew Konrad Curze hung them on Article Zero of the Legion's Code.
“Here’s the thing,” he said to Vulcan and Rogal Dorn, who had just been dug out from under the floor, “we all know about that equestrian competition, right? We just came here Here, more than half a month ago, the game was announced at the foot of the Taylorfus Snow Mountain?”
"Of course," Roger Dorn said, his tone was no different from when he played Caesar just now. Maybe his acting rule is to show a side of himself on the stage.
“Now that the race schedule is over halfway, for the first batch of riders, there is still about half a month left. Perturabo has calculated the entire process of this event very well, and in all sports At the end of the event, the winner of this long equestrian cross-country race will surely win the trophy at the end. At that time, it will be time for us to leave separately. The time when we can see each other again is not yet in any arrangement or plan. In..."
"Well, back to the subject, most of the players are located in the hills of the west, but there are also a small number of players due to various irresistible reasons, such as sudden illness and temporary injuries. , the masses are acclimatized, or abdominal discomfort caused by drinking mountain spring water directly, as well as food poisoning caused by collecting wild fruits from the mountains, etc., they chose to withdraw from the competition."
"Most of them chose to withdraw from the competition. They handed their respective riding animals directly to the organizing committee of Olympia. Among these animals, the Iron Warriors who were stationed in Olympia and were responsible for part of the preparations for the games in cooperation with Governor Califon were the first to discover them. There are some large animals that can even carry the weight of space warriors... Come this way, or should I fly with you?"
"No need," Vulcan politely refused. Shake his head.
"Okay," Magnus said regretfully. "I continued to say that after asking Perturabo, some Space Marines on the ground were holding a small equestrian competition among themselves. To be more specific, they asked the Iron Warriors to ride a large animal in front. Fu Grim's Emperor's Son, my Thousand Dust Sun, and Konrad's Night Ghost King's Court each dispatched several temporary athletes to chase after him."
"In the process, Konra. Did the heir of Virtue discover anything unusual?" Vulkan asked.
Magnus blinked and tried his best to smooth out his furrowed eyebrows. "Actually, Konrad Curze's strange mortal auxiliary army told their Space Marines that they smelled something alarming from the Emperor's Children..."
" Smell?" Roger Dorn repeated.
"Yes, Sons of the Muses - that's the name, right? They're not Space Wolves, why are they smelling..."
"They said that the Emperor's Son who participated in the competition, Telemanon, must have taken a dose of 'Splintermind.Booster.Remade' against the rules, which is a combination of some kind of alien spinal cord extract. Specialized dangerous potion of Space Marine blood protein"
"Telemanon Lylas denied the other party's slander. My warriors Iskandar Khayon and Telemanon are familiar with it, and you are also familiar with it. Knowing that we can feel the emotional radiance emanating from the etheric aura of those around us, he defended his angry friend. Sahar, the captain of the Night Ghost Court, seemed to have extra faith in their mortal army in this matter. , although they don’t seem to have known each other for too long, don’t they?”
“There is a conflict between them,” Rog Dorn said, “What does Perturabo think?”
"No matter how he decides to look at it, Perturabo is watching a duel at this time." Magnus's voice lowered. Even if this conflict does not need to be mentioned explicitly, he should know that the duel will not result. Any real permanent physical harm, but the Red Primarch could not approve of such a thing happening.
"Is there no one to stop them?" Vulkan asked.
"Thinking from all angles, one can conclude that they should not have fought, without Conrad's support!"
Saul Sahar bowed his head to his master , completing the penultimate ritual before the duel. The firearm on his waist was carefully cared for and treated with utmost respect by the company commander.
It is called the Bite of Darkness. This exquisite and classical bolter has a certain dark and mysterious temperament like a rainy night. It was handmade by Konrad Coze himself.
It is true that Konrad Curze is not as skilled as Vulkan, Ferrus Manus and Perturabo, and is a skilled craftsman that is difficult to find in the entire galaxy, but any Primarch, They all undoubtedly possess the ability to create a simple weapon.
He gave a bolt gun he made to the first heir who bowed to him. This was not only a supreme reward, but also one of the few he was willing to use as his observation of another fantasy world. The template refers to an event that reflects on the current world.
Konrad Curze did not know how, on the uncut thread of fate, another him would personally forge weapons for his warriors. Maybe he was still sober enough at that time, sober enough to have the ability to yearn for a better destiny.
“Battle,” said Perturabo, “is indeed a good way to resolve conflicts. But can you tell me why you want to promote a real battle? Is the Court of Narni, Isn’t it enough for you to meet your need for fighting?”
His words were calm, but deep in this unwavering calm, there was a deep doubt.
For the Iron Lord, this is really not a rare emotion: every planet conquered by the Iron Warriors, every world that kneels before the Empire in the majesty of the Iron Lord, All have tasted it at one level or another, and the bitter consequences that opposing it would bring to the entire world.
But applying this sentiment to conversations with brothers is probably not that common.
"This is not a battle," Konrad Curze hissed back, watching his captain step into the duel.
There are times when a Primarch's vast and complex thoughts are allowed to reflect on sideways thoughts outside of business.
For example, now, Konrad Coze can't help but wonder, if the gauntlets worn by his warriors are not hard ceramite shells, but soft white gloves, will he pursue a particularly classical pursuit? Following the etiquette, he took off his gloves and threw them contemptuously and solemnly between him and the warrior on the opposite side.
"This is a duel." He finished his words softly.
Opposite the two of them, about a hundred meters away, Fulgrim was gently caring for his heir, with Ferrus Manus beside him, his silver eyes Cold and calm.
The purple-robed phoenix spoke some dialects that only the locals of Chemos understood. It was undeniable that sometimes, each legion did use the language of their respective home planets as encrypted code words.
No matter what he said, Telemanon was not inspired. The handsome face of the swordsman who was good at using two swords and had the characteristics of the Emperor's Children was somewhat eclipsed at this time, and his bright eyes Not as thorough and sharp as usual.
He still held his bolter and walked towards Saul Sahar.
It was morning at this time, and the star of the Olympia Galaxy projected its light onto the earth at a suitable angle. The connection between the two Space Marines who are about to participate in the duel forms an equal angle with the sunlight, ensuring maximum fairness.
This time, a veteran of the Avni clan from the 1st Company of the Iron Hands was in charge of presiding over the duel - the Iron Hands are well known for their pursuit and maintenance of personal honor.
The two teams each dispatched a coordinator as a ceremonial auxiliary.
The Emperor's Son chose his friend Khayon, and the Nightghost commissioned a Son of the Muse who had the most normal appearance - his hair covered his ears, there were no strange growths on his body, and The outline of the face wearing the mask is also more in line with the definition of ordinary humans.
“The rules are very simple,” the soldier said. “You use the guns in your hands to shoot at each other at a distance of 100 meters, 60 meters, 30 meters, and 10 meters. If someone is at If he falls down during this process, he will be judged as the loser. After the end, the Primarch Perturabo will evaluate the shooting accuracy for both of you. Finally, the one with the best shooting level will win."
Three bullets are naturally difficult to kill or even harm a healthy armored space warrior, so the rules of the duel have also been flexibly modified.
"The first shot." The soldier said.
The two bullets were fired at the same time, met in the air, and passed by the hot wind rolled up by each other. No one dodges. The bolter left a dent in Thor Sahar's left shoulder plate, and Telemanon received one that struck him in the knee.
“I think he practiced his shooting skills,” Konrad Curze said. “Well, if they were given a gun each, the Nightghost Court would have the best marksmanship among the entire Space Marines. Level.”
Magnus, Vulkan and Rogal Dorn came from not far away. Judging from the speed of their arrival, Magnus still took his brothers with him. Had a short flight.
Rogal Dorn walked to the side of Perturabo and Konrad, and the first thing he said was "Don't underestimate the Iron Hands."
"Neither do you. There will be time to order bolters for tens of thousands of warriors, my brother," Vulkan said, wanting to pat Konrad on the shoulder. The latter endured this move stiffly, and received an apology from Vulkan who suddenly understood. "Second shot," the soldier announced.
One hundred and twenty meters apart, two bullets were fired from their respective muzzles. Telemanon changed his aiming target. This bomb was pointed at the relatively weak belly armor. Sahar persistently shoots the opponent's knee again. The two impact points overlapped each other, leaving behind scorched black marks after the hot lava cooled.
They did not stop for a moment because of being shot this time. They continued to take steps and approached each other straightly.
"There should be bruises." Magnus made his judgment. The master of supernatural abilities did not use any additional means to explore the two people on the field under the thick ceramic armor. actual state. This is unnecessary.
Peturabo nodded slightly, his eyebrows furrowed, and he recognized Magnus's assertion.
As the last step fell, the two space warriors walked to a place sixty meters away from each other at the same time. The auxiliary personnel around them also followed the two closer, although there was nothing they needed to do.
"The third shot."
What is particularly coincidental is that this time, the two bullets happened to hit each other, exploding a cluster of brilliant but short sparks in the air, and broken shrapnel flying came out and plunged into the soil on the ground one after another.
This amusing coincidence in a serious atmosphere did not cause anyone except Conrad Coates to smile.
As for the Blood Marquis, he seems to have been accustomed to raising the corner of his mouth diagonally upward on various suitable or inappropriate occasions, using his dark eyes to describe everything that happened before him. The incident was absorbed into the depths of his mind.
The two warriors continued to get closer, and the distance between them was enough for the bolter to do real damage.
The warriors of the Iron Hands look intently.
In addition to rumors, from time to time they would fondly caress their respective aircraft, tanks, or bolters and chainswords in their hands, and pour out their hearts to these ice-cooled and wealthy people. Charismatic steel machines, these warriors are not the emotionally overt type.
"The last shot."
At the moment when the last words of his words began to surge through the air, the explosive bomb immediately pulled the trigger without even a moment's delay. They flew towards their target amidst the sound.
Telemanon raised his hand and looked at his penetrated arm. The armor that was carefully decorated and wrapped in fine silk was broken, and bright red overflowed from his palms.
Across from him, Thor Sahar kissed the hot barrel of his bolter and the skull carved into it, blood spilling from his flank. When he lowered his hand and let the gun rest against his leg armor, his own blood flowed onto the gun's body, cooling it in the voluntary blood.
The two auxiliary personnel immediately stepped forward, as if announcing their victory in advance, and weakly supported the duelist's arm, of course, the uninjured one.
Kayon seemed to want to say something, but in Telemanon's soft whisper, he showed surprise and sadness as if he had been betrayed. His expression hardened in annoyance, but he walked with the Emperor's Children toward the center of the field.
Perturabo walked towards the center and supervised the two warriors holding each other's hands after the duel.
"Your conflict ends here." The Primarch announced, "It shall not be mentioned again. Do you understand?"
The warriors nodded in reply.
"Okay," Perturabo said, "Now, I need to assess your injuries."
Surrounded by other Astartes or Primarchs, the two of them Of course there is nothing to avoid. With the help of the Sons of the Muses, Thor Sahar's plastron was individually removed.
"This will not affect the battle, sir." Night Ghost said.
"Okay." Perturabo's eyes swept over his abdomen, "Go clean the wound. What about you?"
Telemanon nodded to Khayon. Afterwards, Qianchen Zhiyang used a small technique to remove his arm armor and gauntlets.
Perturabo exhaled softly. "Clean the blood," he said.
"I'll do it." Magnus stepped forward, and the blood evaporated under the ripples of red gold, leaving behind the pale skin of the Emperor's son.
No more scars except the indispensable neural interface.
Perturabo immediately looked at Fulgrim, the phoenix was walking towards his heir.
"Why are you doing this?" he sighed, "I don't need you to pursue perfection in this way."
Telemanon trembled under his father's gentle rebuke. He couldn't help but feel mist of regret accumulating in his eyes. "Please punish me for bringing disgrace to the glory of the Emperor's Children."
"You are not aware that you have taken any additional alchemical potions, are you?"
Conrad Curze swam in like black smoke and appeared beside Perturabo. His words were soft and low, carrying carefully designed malice.
"This is the special thing about the S.B.R. potion, my brother... While it enhances the temporary individual quality, it also reduces the individual's subjective perception of it, thereby avoiding psychologically affecting the soldier's confidence and combat ability. "
"But, hey, do you know why it is still an alchemy potion that is forbidden to be used casually?"
Xuehou closed his eyes and counted the last three numbers.
"Three, two, one..."
Telemanon's eyes turned gray for an instant, and in the bone-piercing pain that was about to come, consciousness immediately left his mind. He fell backwards and was barely held up by Khayon.
Kurtz took out another tube of injection from his tool bag and threw it out. Khayon reached out to catch it: "Injection, otherwise his genes will collapse within a day."
"You invented it ?" Fulgrim's eyes twitched slightly. "Heartbreak Potion?"
"Invention? This thing is much older than me, and why would I update a piece of junk that doesn't work?" Konrad Curze said lazily, " My subordinates are studying it. As for how this potion got into the hands of your Emperor's children... I am going to hold Hexakarius accountable. What about you, Fulgrim?"
Fulgrim's eyes turned cold. "I understand," said the Primarch.
"Okay." Cozz stretched his arms, "By the way, your sports meeting is about a week away. It's over, right? I just happened to go deal with something else, something... really Something worth studying.”
(End of this chapter)