Chapter 323: A long talk
“I told you, my beloved Brother Bai Yu, if they call me again with the most noble and hypocritical words such as ‘angel’, I will adjust my blood wine. The recipe is here."
Conrad Curze whispered, rising from his pale stone seat carved into the form of a skeleton, a simple gesture of greeting to Sanguinius.
In his right hand, he holds a scroll of paper written in Baal's native language, Anokan, and in his left hand, he wears a sharp claw that sometimes has silver-blue lightning flowing through it.
Sanguinius once thought he knew the names of these claws, Mercy and Forgiveness, a pair of exquisitely crafted lightning claws that held lofty wishes but were ironically contradictory to their owner.
In fact, even in brief foreshadowing, this was simply the name given to the weapon wielded by their Primarch by the Night Lords of the Eighth Legion. He didn't really know the names Conrad Coates gave them.
But when Sanguinius intentionally or unintentionally asked about the names of these claws, his brother who broke the prophecy burst out laughing, and his long, silky jet-black hair slipped past the pale stitches on his shoulders. The leather cloak looks like a ghost in the middle of the night.
——Guess, angel, I am particularly curious about how far you can understand this me and whether you can touch the boundary I named it.
Conrad threw the question back to him, obviously treating it as a puzzle game. Sanguinius smiled in return, not once guessing again.
The archangel walked towards Night Ghost and walked through the dark hall. The shadows cast by colored glass in the room were deep and strange, like the rotating patterns of a million-flower mirror, swirling on his white robes.
Curze's unique black-robed, metal-clad attendants brought him a backless chair for the angel to rest his broad wings.
The angel arranged his robe demurely, Shi Shiran sat down and folded his wings.
Conrad's squire gave him a cup of wine filled with blood, and Sanguinius drank it with lowered eyes, lest anyone notice how a part of his soul was thirsty for this sweet cup of blood. Endless fun.
And his genetic detection ability allowed him to taste how many kinds of delicious blood were brewing in this glass of wine. It was still the same ratio. The blood of three unknown aliens was mixed in a ratio of four to three to one. , creating an impeccable mellow taste that flows between the lips and teeth.
"What did they call you again, Konrad?" Sanguinius asked.
"Midnight Angel, what else could it be?"
"What a pity, dear brother. How are you going to adjust your blood wine recipe?" Sanguinius took his time and shook the cup. Take another sip of the wine in your hand with restraint.
“Nature is the nectar flowing in your local Baal. The bright red juice contains the essence of life and constitutes a vital part of the wine in your glass...”
“I’m sorry. ," the angel squinted and smiled, "The grapes of Baal have not been planted on a large scale yet. Maybe they must be used to supply the needs of the residents of Baal first."
Koz glared at Sanguinius and put the grapes in his hands. He threw the scroll of paper to the archangel, then turned around and returned to his white stone throne of bones.
"You know what I'm talking about..." he muttered, looking a little annoyed.
“Oh, do I know?”
“That’s enough, that’s enough.” Coates rubbed the eye sockets of the skull on the armrest of his seat with his fingertips, “Let’s continue what should be done. The topic being discussed. "
A Night Ghost Space Marine appeared from the shadows at the right time. Perhaps one of the talents of the Eighth Legion is to move stealthily in the shadows.
"Show us the Archangel, Sahar," Curze hissed.
Saul Sahar took out a new roll of paper from the leather bag on the same side as the pistol on his waist and presented it to the angel.
This group of unruly warriors with their unique secrets and silence endeared themselves to Sanguinius because they would not obsess over kneeling to him like the Baal people.
Sanguinius put down his glass, unfolded the scroll, and glanced quickly. Thor Sahar took the wine glass and disappeared into the darkness, leaving room for conversation to the two primarchs.
Conrad Curze's sharp sketch, this time depicts the image of a Space Marine standing among corpses, describing himself as crazy, with his sword and the lower half of his face covered in thick blood.
"They are thirsty," Sanguinius said.
"In fact, they were angry." The fingertips of Conrad's hand wearing the lightning claw lightly scratched the armrest, leaving scratches on his seat, even though he didn't use any strength at all. "In this way, we have completed all the puzzle pieces about you currently."
Sanguinius seemed not to hear Conrad's hint about his ending, he just smiled: "You As I said, the Emperor's black-robed friends found ways to make them less thirsty."
"Suppress, not eliminate, the Emperor's genetic engineering is difficult to fundamentally shake, otherwise I wouldn't need to use it like this. With so much energy, he injected gene-altering drugs into my bone marrow three times," Conrad said calmly, "Morse roughly made up for the genetic defects of the Space Marines - but that was still making up, I don't understand. Why didn't he mention this to Fulgrim? "Reputation can sometimes be a liability," Sanguinius said. The praiser does not pay attention to the person who praises. "
"You have rich experience in this, the great angel of the empire, and I, although I do not desire it, have indeed not obtained it. "Koz replied coldly.
"Oh? You clearly mentioned that after the Olympia Games, your local reputation increased with the spread of the dramatic video."
Koz's lips moved in the shadows, it was undoubtedly a Words that express strong feelings. These days, Sanguinius knew the mouth shape by heart, even if he didn't know what language it was.
“What’s the content of your prophecy?” Coze said, changing the subject with serious matters, “What legion are we in?”
“Sixteen, I think.” Senge Leth's smile falls, this is one of the parts he least likes to talk about. "Under the conspiracy of the wolves, the capital of magic and knowledge, the white city of light, was burned between the dark iron and blood."
"Stupid wild wolves and arrogant scholars." Ke He sneered from between his teeth, "Of course, this will never happen again. Are there any details?"
"I haven't seen as much as you." Angel said, "In addition, in last night's dream, I seemed to have obtained some new fragments about the Fifteenth Legion."
Koz nodded. , waiting for statement.
“I saw—it was just a brief scene. I saw Magnus living in the same room with two Primarchs, seeming to be telling some good news, or something simple that was worth being happy about. Interesting fact."
"Two?" Curze quickly compared the possible information he knew. In his illusion, Magnus didn't have many real close friends. The goshawk soaring over the grassland is one, and the fortress built with copper and iron walls is another.
"Chagatai Khan? Perturabo?" he guessed.
Sanguinius shook his head slightly, the tips of his wings quivering.
"One of them is Horus Luperkar."
"Horus, he can talk and laugh with anyone, except maybe Corax." Curze commented coldly road.
He distinguished the illusion from the real Horus Luperkar so clearly that you could tell who he was referring to just by hearing the tone of his name.
Sanguinius once again put on his standard smile, but this time, his smile was slightly different: "Conrad, the first thing I need to state is that the identity of the other person may be unknown to you. outside.”
"Who else could it be?" Curze didn't care and listed them casually, "Lorgar came to him to study scriptures?"
"No."
"Robert Guilliman Ask him how many copies of Hamlet he has collected scattered across the galaxy?"
"No."
Kurze frowned. "It can't be Leman Russ who comes to him to discuss the mysteries of runes."
"It's not Russ," Sanguinius said, looking at Conrad, ready to see the drastic change in his expression at any moment. "You still haven't let go of your imagination, my brother."
Koz sat forward: "Don't tell me that's 'me'."
"Mortari Ann," Sanguinius said.
Koz’s face instantly turned into a stiff, pale mask.
"What happened to Mortarion?" he struggled to ask.
Sanguinius sighed, his wings fluttering happily behind his back.
“Mortarion and Magnus were crouching at the same table covered with mathematical and divination equipment, and had a long conversation around the same new handwritten article, each expressing his or her own opinion.”
(End of this chapter)