Chapter 448 Tracer
"I invite you," said Conrad Curze, bowing slightly to Morse and Perturabo, and opening his cloak to one side with his arms, " I hope you can come to the temporary stage that has been set up. If you want to..."
He removed some fancy ornaments and riddles, and had to lick his lips to make up for the awkward feeling of being lost. .
“My subordinates have spent decades tracking the Illuminati in the Holy Grail Expansion, looking for traces of the Nightmare Sun and its antagonistic Illuminati mentors. Finally, they told me that Harlequin’s Tracer Dance requires Without the help of a powerful enough psyker, we will never be able to break the fog left by the three-headed snake on its trail."
"Is this why you have been busy in recent years?" Pettu? Rab said, then nodded, "This is also the information we need."
"I'm glad to hear that, Warmaster," Conrad's expression relaxed, and he spoke the word Warmaster clearly and deliberately, "Please follow me through the webway and find our preparations. Huayi The stage of the Harlequin is in the center of the webway, where there is no time and place, only unquestionable answers, and unreal reality, so shadows and curtains lose their ability to block the vision..."
"I bet There's a name there," Morse said.
"Black Library." Curze looked at him and said.
After a brief tacit discussion, Iron Ring was left on the Cheorwon to temporarily take care of this space fortress, which although it was large and expensive, was not absolutely important. Perturabo and Morse boarded the Cliff, and under the leadership of Conrad, traveled along the webway covered with runes by Magnus.
"Some... people do have objections to allowing Magnus to paint here," Curze said, placing his feet on the edge of the seat and resting his hands on his knees. Of course, He is now just a psychic shadow, capable of any movement "until they prove their validity... It's like, here was a waterproof raincoat and then it became a submarine."
He laughed alone for a while, then suddenly stopped, staring directly at Perturabo with his dark eyes: "What is it like to be a Warmaster, Perturabo? Will you change for this?"
"Which way?" asked Perturabo.
Curze shrugged, leaning against his armrest, "I don't know, my brother. I hope... not."
"This is not an easy hat to put on. The laurel crown, its light will attract your special attention... Even my tarot has seen you, Perturabo, the three tarots, the God Emperor, the High Priest, and the Lone Wolf, this is the first time you appear. In divination, I feel... this is not what I want to see."
"Which one am I?" asked Perturabo.
"Jackal, because the image of you wearing a crown appears on the LCD card, I can't admit it wrong. But I still can't understand its meaning."
Kuzz bit his lower lip, and then put his finger He pressed it against his mouth, trembling slightly to suppress the overflowing blood.
“This is abnormal, my brother, I am not sure - as Magnus said, the essence of true prophecy is to rise above time and explore the future of ordered time in Asia. The reverberation caused by space..."
"It will be fine," Perturabo said in a deep voice, directly cutting off Conrad's thoughts with his own voice, "I'm afraid you are the one in the entire galaxy. , the person who knows best how to be unaffected by prophecies, Conrad.”
After he finished speaking, Morse, who was lying on the recliner, immediately sat up, “Oh?”
Curze put down his hand, his face as pale as usual. "It's almost there," he said, seeming to smile. "It's time to go, my dear brother."
——
< br>"With 'Tracer's Elegy', each actor will only perform a complete performance once in his life - and after discussion, now is the time to complete it."
Coates said , his fingers slid over the edge of the leather page, and words that were longer than time flowed out from near his fingers, drifting away before being understood, and together with all the undeveloped and unshown roads, they became entangled into a wisp of rising waves. The flying ink smoke briefly outlines the black and white picture, and then disappears immediately.
Perturabo retrieved the memories stored in his mind. These words that should have been memorized by the Primarch in an instant have been gently enveloped in the mist - it may not be forcibly deciphered, but Perturabo was not interested. He didn't even raise his eyebrows once.
Xi Gaole, who was hiding deep in the webway, didn't want them to see too much, but in fact, no one here would be free to check the prophecies and unknown dangerous knowledge stored in the black library.
The figures of the clowns move between the bookshelves. Some of them are the big clowns who play the role of the Laughing God himself, Xi Gaole, on the stage. The other ones have double horns on their heads and are wrapped in purple flames. They are the hungry and thirsty enemies. The actor plays a solo role. Sometimes, even when there is no repertoire, they will imitate a glorious swirling battle among the bookshelves, survive in their unique characters, and finally bow to three passers-by.
"Our actors are ready," a death clown said in a low voice. He squatted at the top of a taller ladder, holding a heavy gun as light as a weight to match the requirements. The cultural tradition of placing the Grim Reaper on the shoulders.
“The ruby is clothed in shadow, so that it can reveal the secret behind the curtain, a sheltered secret place, a millennium lair entwined with snake heads, shaped by time, born into shadow. The half-demon becomes complete..."
"A good announcement." Morse's words were filled with air.
The Death Clown flipped over on the ladder and quietly fell into the shadow behind. The bookshelves in the Black Library seemed to move because of this, and it seemed that the only ones that moved were the two original bodies and the craftsman himself.
They stepped into a rotunda. Arranged bookshelves surrounded the empty gray slate hall in the center. A large number of stacked books blocked other roads leading to the rotunda, creating a closed Small area. In the center of the gray stone stage, an iron eight-pointed star immediately attracted Morse's attention.
Firstly, he recognized the dangerous sign; secondly, a clown with black and white dominoes was squatting in the center of the eight-pointed star, with a gold-plated three-cornered hat on his head and a torn sad face. Hi mask, showing bright red lips.
"Lord of the Night," the Harlequin raised his head, "the dirge is about to begin."
"How can I help you?" Morse asked. "Are you Zephyr Ruby?"
Two clowns brought weapons racks with all kinds of weapons, from spears to bows and arrows. Curze replied: "This is a mapped tracer ritual, Morse. Your ritual level must be much higher than that of my insignificant young Primarch - look at those weapons, think about our purpose... Both behind the veil and within the heavenly wheel..."
Perturabo watched Morse staring at the weapons rack thoughtfully, and couldn't help but study these in his mind. The psychic riddle felt helpless.
If everyone was like Magnus and tried to explain all the principles of psionic power in a way that all greenskins could understand, it would undoubtedly... No, he had to admit, maybe that Human beings can no longer rely on the shelter of ignorance to survive darkness and chaos.
While they were talking, Hongyu's performance had begun. This is almost a solo dance of his, if the accompaniment of Shadows of the Unknown is not included in the performance.
Kogyoku is shown at the beginning to be knocked down by some demonic force, clutching her chest and kneeling down.
Then he stood up spinning and painted a new colored heart on his chest. The sombre melody is brightened up with long, high-pitched strings.
At some point, Hongyu's mask was replaced by the unique grid iron mask of the Blood Marquis's legion, indicating his new identity. He leaps lightly, sometimes leaping over the beams of light that follow him, and rummaging briskly among the stacks of books around the hall, symbolizing his work for Conrad.
Until a moment, the black eight-pointed star in the center of the field suddenly emitted a terrifying black light, and a shadow of a crystal snake swam out from the edge of the field, twisting and menacing. The Harlequin danced with the Crystal Snake, and the cards in his hand were played out from time to time, stabbing diagonally at the edge of the Crystal Snake's swimming form, trembling elastically.
Tarot cards framed the route of the snake, but it has been unable to completely lock it. The Harlequin pursed his lips into a straight line of bright red. He tore off the mask, revealing a pale face, and suddenly nailed the tip of the damaged mask into the ground, hitting the front of the Crystal Snake's torso.
The long snake bowed and jumped up, suddenly pounced on the Harlequin, climbed up his legs, and launched a fierce counterattack. The crystal poison of chaos stabbed out from the fangs of the long snake and injected into the palm of the clown. Hongyu twitched exaggeratedly, grabbed the snake and knocked it to the ground.
Morse instantly pulled out a long sword from the weapon rack and threw the sword suddenly, accompanied by floating golden words. The tip of the sword pierced the long snake from the side. The crystal snake twitched in shock, and the blood spattered into shaped words on the gray ground. Then, it tore its own snake body and quickly swam back into the surrounding darkness. The long sword Then it broke.
The music stopped, the dance ended, and all the lights came on.
"Ishtar, the expansion of the Holy Grail." Morse strode forward and read out the words composed of crystal blood stains.
This is not only an artificial name assigned to a planet, this is its specific location in the subspace projection: the name is power, form, existence and truth.
Just by seeing a name, he could already mentally see the dark blue outline of the planet embedded in the vast universe, as well as the bloody three-headed snake shadow surrounding the outside of the planet.
Until this time, Perturabo finally used his logical reasoning and moderate experience to figure out the theory of the ritual: "This is..."
He encountered difficulties in the choice of words. Difficulty comes. "Is this a real battle?" the Iron Lord asked.
"It can be understood this way," Morse said, returning to Perturabo's side, the surging light in his eyes dimmed in a blink of an eye, and finally returned to the original black. "This is a symbolic performance, and every scene reflects the development of the real universe."
The throw just now seemed easy, but he knew how much energy he had poured into it in an instant. Over time, The spreading curse that could tear apart the stars was attached to the temporary disposable ritual weapon, the long sword, and successfully penetrated the subspace scales of the temporarily trapped crystal snake, leaving traces of its existence.
Perturabo nodded. Part of him was still immersed in the play just now. The original body's thinking made him unable to help but try to analyze the energy flow and amplification principles. Even if he knew that even the Harlequin himself might not understand all the mysteries. .
"My thanks to you, Conrad," he said.
Perhaps feeling that his mission has come to an end, Konrad Coates waved his hand with little interest as his limited response, "I won't accompany you to find this 'mentor', so farewell." But...who wants to take the Warmaster and the craftsmen out of here? Forget it...forget it, I'll take you to the exit of the Webway. Maybe you know the general process of the Webway construction, dear Warmaster, and you do too. Map, but I know how to move forward faster."
They had no intention of delaying and headed back to the exit. After all, they still have too many questions that need to be answered after catching Number Eleven.
Before leaving, Perturabo looked back at the Harlequin Ruby who fell on the ground. He lay silently, his chest sunken where his heart was, leaving an unfillable void. Clearly, he has paid with his life for "Tracer's Elegy."
In addition, it is worth mentioning that the Immortal Silversmith captured by Magnus, an Immortal who was supposed to be immortal, quickly died silently under the strict guard of the Crimson King. After the chaotic power that supported his existence was cut off, the extra life he gained turned into dust in the blink of an eye.
On the verge of death, the Silversmith neither conveyed threatening words to Chaos nor was he frank enough to admit the entire Illuminati's plot. All he handed over were the architectural drawings and various writings he had designed in the old night - after Magnus carefully analyzed those drawings and found that they were really just ordinary architectural designs, Magnus was so angry that he didn't want to speak.
"But Ishtar is there," said Perturabo, watching Conrad float away in his black boat. "Will it escape again?"
"If it feels that it can continue to come and go freely in the subspace without bleeding profusely," Morse replied, he was closing his eyes for observation. The looming body of the crystal snake. There is no doubt that it has indeed been injured in the ritual, and the sharp and non-existent whine surges around the entire dark blue planet, causing endless ripples in the sea of emotions.
He stood up, walked to the porthole, and observed the protection mode and energy structure of the three-headed snake.
The three-headed snake envelops the entire planet of Ishtar. If he wants to reach the surface, he needs to break through the protection of the Chaos Creation raised by No. 11 - or kill it, he prefers the latter. This means that he needs to deal with a Chaos monster that can vaguely compete with the unborn Tyrant Star. This can be implemented, but it will not be easy.
Just before he made his final decision, a voice came. It does not come from within the planet, but from the three-headed snake itself.
"Come on," it said, spitting out the snake message softly, ignoring the disturbing noise, it was almost a sigh.
(End of this chapter)