Chapter 327 Coze has no objection
“To Perturabo who is on his way to the Satrada Abyss: When you realize that I have begun to write to you again, this undoubtedly means that I have finally found my way into the vast abyss. In the universe, the existence of Baal and its two satellites has been discovered, so there is an urgent need to share the knowledge with others."
"This triple celestial sphere also had a happy old time. . The reason why I don't use the word 'garden' is that the environment in Mortarion and some events that have happened in recent years have suddenly increased the ambiguity of this vibrant word."
"But now. , the beauty of the past has naturally turned into dust, and the scenery of Bawei today is only one level better than Mortarion's Barbarus - desolate, dilapidated, scorching heat, large-scale damaged abandoned cities, and luminous "Sanguinius's efforts here may be more obvious on the surface. Many new buildings were gradually built under the unified schedule of the Archangel's strong requirements. This is Sanguinius's important argument: He insists on telling us that he relied on knowledge, reason, and justice to rise to the rank of Blood Angel of Baal."
"The mutants of Baal shouldn't think so."
"But in the high altitude near the earth, Baal's moon instantly degenerated into a block of color as integrated as red copper casting, relying on the depth to distinguish the town from the wasteland. The prototype of the sandstorm is brewing deep in the desert, and Sanguinius said that the small duststorm has the potential to grow and develop."
"The traces of civilization give way to the natural landscape, even the natural landscape. The consequences of what humans themselves created many years ago. This once again proves that humans will always be afraid of the things they created."
"In addition, I seem to understand why the upright Sanguinius brings this with him. Conrad Coates and I were soaring in the air. He must have thought that after being swallowed by the strong wind in mid-air, the two of us would become silent amidst the wordless whistling, and we would no longer have high-intensity conversations of our own accord. "
"Unfortunately, it seems that I haven't made it obvious enough. I am a - in Mortarion's words, a wizard, and a wizard will not be unable to recite a spell just because he is in a windy day. ”
The sun burned in the empty sky, also obscuring the presence of another Baal moon visible at night. The light shines in the desolation, the rolling yellow sand rises and falls in the flight of Sanguinius, and the crystal gravel brushes from the surface of the ruins of the uninhabited empty city. Every grain of sand is the lurking agent that brings fatal cancer and death. who.
Some shadows left by the war stretch into long lines on the sand, including the metal muzzles that stand up diagonally upward, the skeletons of man-made armed vehicles hollowed out by wind etching, and the echoes of rumbling cannons. Scorched on the sand dunes, these abandoned mechanical remains are silent, inviting past memories and years to revisit, while visitors only have the whisper of the wind.
Due to the lack of water, it is difficult for even weeds to grow on the surface of the formation, let alone shrubs or jungles.
Only the vast dust and sand remain.
Due to the extremely high ground, the landscape of the earth moves steadily and slowly in the field of vision, but the strong wind proves the archangel’s flying speed—perhaps he is not using his wings at all. The fact of flight is based on the laws of physics, because Morse can guarantee that the rationality of the way the wings are flapped is sacrificed for the beauty of the flying posture of those huge white wings.
The wind blew in front of Morse, lifting his windproof hood and blowing all his hair back, as did his robes.
He used a little magic to create an invisible tip in front of himself to guide the flow of wind pressure and relieve the pressure of the wind on his face, so that he can better enjoy the pleasure of flying. .
Morse looked at Conrad Coates who was hanging on the other side by a bungee cord. Marquis Xue frowned, his face paler than usual, and the word "regret" was clearly written on the corners of his trembling mouth.
Of course, this does not mean that the Primarch is about to succumb to the heights or the pressure of the wind: anyone who dares to look down from the top of the tower at the core of Commorragh is unlikely to be afraid of heights. heart.
He probably just felt that letting himself be held up by an angel with a rope and floated in the sky was as stupid as words can describe.
"How's it going, Konrad?" Sanguinius greeted his floating blood brother cheerfully. "Is this an unexpectedly wonderful experience? I like flying very much. It allows me to relax when I'm alone. It frees my spirit and allows me to freely survey the scene of my home planet. What do you think?"
Conrad Coates's harsh words are neutralized in the song of the wind, unless he wants to. He put aside his face and shouted at the top of his lungs, fearing that every word he said next would not reach the ears of the angel who succeeded in his plan.
"He seemed fine with it," Morse said.
The angel smiled, "I don't think Conrad has seen his flight in the prophecy? This must be a novel experience for him."
As for Senge How Leth was able to maintain steady verbal communication while flying may be one of the many wonders the Emperor added when he created the Primarch.
"Perhaps he prefers to light eight candlesticks in the dark cabin, hold a newly cleaned skull, squat in the leather-wrapped seat, and count how many new bones have been collected in the legion recently." "It's really eerie. "I believe Conrad won't do this, right?" The angel waited for a few seconds, "Look, he admitted that I was right."
Conrad. Let go of a few sections of the rope folded in your palms, plunge down suddenly, and then hold on tightly again.
Due to the huge difference in weight between the two hands - on one side is a fluttering black robe that is as light as several layers of thin fabric, and on the other is a solid two-person tall giant genetic creation, Sanguinius Once Si started flying, he found that he had to readjust to this strange combination of center of gravity.
And Conrad's move made the angel, who was already struggling to maintain his balance, tilt sideways off guard.
Sanguinius quickly adjusted his flight balance and flapped one of his wings ceremonially to prove that he was trying hard to fly.
"Careful, Brother Bat." He smiled. "Don't let go and fall."
Morse estimated the distance. Combining Bal's gravitational acceleration, which was slightly one-fifth greater than Terra's, and the Emperor's advanced biological manufacturing, he thought it was several thousand Conrad Coates shouldn't be able to fall to death from a distance of 3 meters... maybe.
"Don't worry," he said, "I'm sure the Midnight Angel won't fall into a heap that's not easy to put back together."
Conrad Coates didn't give feedback, most likely. Attracted by the scenery of Sanguinius' home planet, his brain was completely immersed in the beautiful scenery of Baal, giving up any further thinking.
"He doesn't like to be called an angel, Mors," Sanguinius advised gently.
“You really have the face of an angel,” Mors said, as the wings of Sanguinius shed pure light above his head. “It’s no wonder that the Baal people regard you as their pure-blood saint. Like. What do you think the Emperor would think of Baal's local religious atmosphere, even though he himself is the most religious person in the galaxy?"
Sanguinius' wings spread, helping him to glide through the air. Wind hunting.
"My people do view me as such," Sanguinius replied as they neared their destination, "and I am willing to repay them for all they have given me."
" Do you like this?" Morse asked.
The ground is close, and yellow sand is blowing towards your face. Sanguinius landed with them. Conrad Coates released the rope in advance, adjusted his posture in the air, and landed lightly.
Sanguinius spread his wings to block a gust of dusty wind, then shook his wings and folded them behind his back.
"We can talk about it later," the angel's handsome face was comforting, "I will take you to meet my tribal elders first, the emperor's messengers. I haven't yet I have told my people that I will be leaving Baal."
He smiled, "I believe this is the reason for your presence on my home planet, Morse, and I thank you for it. I have heard from Conrad about the help my descendants have done.”
“Oh, I’m not here to rush you.” Morse really didn’t expect the angel to think this way. Si hid his emotions a little too well, "I just came to see how Konrad Kurtz is getting along with you, such as whether Kurtz tried to pluck your feathers, or whether you stuffed Kurtz into Box and thrown into outer space”
He calculated the time in his mind, "The Emperor should be still dealing with Mortarion's affairs on Terra recently, at least until he has finished deceiving Number Fourteen's feelings, and then takes the time to sail to Baal to find you. It's your turn to leave, so don't worry."
" Mortarion?" Curz repeated alertly, his voice even lower and somewhat contained due to the fact that he had just taken a few breaths. Nervous and threatening, "Do you know what's going on with Mortarion?"
(End of this chapter)