Chapter 497 The Blade of Ral
Akul Duna’s silky purple robe was slightly raised on the way to the original body’s trophy display room. This mirrored passage with a wall like a whale rib was in the air. It was spotless after being cleaned by the servants, which rarely made the Second Captain of the Emperor's Children feel uncomfortable.
The pacification operations they conducted in nearby galaxies not long ago were mainly located in a dusty wild world. They were covered in ashes during the battle, and it took the servants a lot of time to remove the mud from them. The finely carved patterns of the armor were cleared out from the gaps. Regardless, it was a battle that brought victory and honor, and they enjoyed their achievements.
He walked into the showroom, stepped on the fine gold floor engraved with mysterious patterns, and realized that there were a lot of new holographic projections here: One interesting thing is that since Fulgrim After replacing half of his face with steel, he picked out many precious collections and threw them into the furnace without any hesitation, watching the gorgeous weapons with their own characteristics being melted into molten iron in the hot fire.
I heard a shrill cry hissing out of the forge as part of the blade burned. This is a legend among the mortal servants of the Legion, but if it is true, then Akulduna would have shown considerable praise for his primarch.
In fact, when he looked at the virtual hard light projection that replaced the real thing, he felt a sense of relief in his heart. The decoration of this showroom is as beautiful as ever - even if it is slightly diminished, but the crisis that once prompted the fifteenth legion's whispered advice is undoubtedly gone.
The only thing that really adds to the beauty of the entire showroom decorated with onyx and lapis lazuli stripes, and makes the beauty here surpass everything else, is standing in front of the glazed painting screen at this moment, holding a handful of The Primarch of the curved sword, Fulgrim the purple phoenix.
"Father," he called loudly to the tall shadow among the dazzling objects, "are you calling me?"
Fulgrim turned his head and looked at the milky white and clean figure. Compared to his skin, the beauty of his generously exposed half-faced mask with silver mechanical carvings was almost as beautiful as the innate vitality the Emperor bestowed upon this phoenix when he shaped a primarch. The balance between machinery and skin on his body is so perfect, and under the astonishing, fire-like vitality of those bright eyes, they have reached a shining and bright unity.
Besides those eyes, his long silver hair falling like a waterfall and the purple robe woven with fine silk threads are all part of the dazzling beauty, but that is not worth mentioning.
"Akulduna, I did call you." Phoenix smiled brightly. His smile was so bright. Fortunately, the Second Company Commander had long been used to it.
The original body turned the silver sword in his hand, held the amethyst-encrusted end in the palm of his metal side, and showed it to his chief swordsman, so that the latter could observe its shape and shape. Forging techniques.
"The loot captured from the Lars, father?"
"Exactly. I was checking my locker today and saw it again by chance—— How strange! Such a magical and attractive sword was inserted into the black stone scabbard of the temple. I should have destroyed it at the first opportunity. I don't know why I didn't destroy it. Instead, he brought it over from there... Oh, come with me to the forge, Akulduna. Make sure I don't store it away halfway."
Fulgrim said angrily, closed his eyes, wrapped the sword in black linen, and then opened his eyes again.
"Come with me, I don't want to continue to waste time on this sword," Fulgrim's tone added a hint of sharpness, "We still have to spend time finding the way to Chemos, or find Feil first. The location of Russ. The darkness and loss of the subspace have thrown us across the galaxy. We have been searching for several months, but unfortunately we have found nothing. Although that warning was given to me, I have not found it. We have to take into account the situation that Ferus may encounter."
The swordsman remembered that Lord Fulgrim seemed to have received a message one day ago, and the original body hurried to the showroom after that. ——Warning and persuasion from another legion. Even if that legion struggled to get the information to them through unknown secret roads and twists and turns when the subspace storm was spreading, this was still deep in the middle of the night. 's secret.
"Please give the sword to me, father. If something happens to you with the sword, I will not be able to resist you, so only I can carry this vicious blade."
Aku Erduna said proactively, with a smile on his lips, and decisively raised his hands to Fulgrim to take the long, wide, curved blade that was also a two-handed sword for the original body.
Fulgrim nodded, without moving his hands, still looking at Akulduna: "I will give it to you, don't let it go."
Akul Duna savored these words word by word in his heart, and then he suddenly stepped forward, snatched the silver sword from Fulgrim's hand, held it in his arms, and pointed it at the stunned Gene. The father smiled: "Don't be reluctant, father."
Fulgrim came back to his senses, raised the half of his eyebrows that he could still raise, and patted the warrior on the shoulder with a smile: " Thank you. "
Say hello to the Lord Commander Vespasian who they met on the way. This was the last Astartes warrior they met along the way. During the days when warp storms obscured the way forward, the entire fleet drifted slowly in the silent deep space, and the rhythm of life and battle of the Emperor's Children inevitably slowed down.
In any case, perhaps this cannot be regarded as passive sabotage - any group that needs to use subspace to stir up troubles may not be able to make trouble in such weather... However, for those who are already What about the planet in possible danger, waiting for help? They are powerless and blind...
For those far away worlds of shining steel... flanged pipes and hard scaly sculptures flowing with oil and inorganic liquid... the sun shines in the complex and The pungent chemical clouds are filtered and turned into a thick and purple gauze mist...
"...throw the sword in." A distant voice came from an extremely difficult to determine direction. Something in his spiritual world was quietly shaken, but it was not enough to make him let go.
Oh, such a blasphemous and evil place, flourishing and taking shape somewhere in the real universe, polluting a planet into an obscene pus-yellow color... Some shining things faintly emerged in the darkness In the squirming corner, scaly creatures weave a shaky window, and the bright and changeable purple-blue fireworks sway with dazzling light, lifting the silence from the bizarre, constantly fractal and pieced-together building-block-like towers. The flowing mist...
"Throw it away!" The voice got closer and closer, with a hint of anger hidden behind the calm command.
Then there were some crisp sounds of collision, silver colliding with iron, his wrists were shocked and painful, and there were strange, blank interruptions and pauses that were captured in his mind. The illusion was swirling violently, and all the milky white steam was stirred into a bright red ball of paint. Sometimes he felt that he was standing there numbly and ignorantly, peeling himself off from his existing body, staring at He was fighting against some noble being.
His lips trembled, as if he wanted to curse, and he waited - witchcraft lightning flashed through the gloomy twilight, the clouds fell downwards, and iron filings fell, and the fragments fell on the ground covered with viscous liquid. The ground was flooded with iridescence, like petals rotting in the liquid... His fingers were numb, until a fiery gift burned onto his fingers. He subconsciously let go of his hand, and a whining sound broke through the air in his hand. Something falls downward...
He followed him away, and the temperature under his body suddenly became so hot, as if the blazing fire had licked his toes... He was pulled, and a sick feeling of nausea came over him. He bowed and spit out a mouthful of bile... …
“Thank you, father.” He retched and looked at the hot molten iron in the furnace under his feet with lingering fear. With Fulgrim’s traction and assistance, the swordsman rolled back into the guardrail and held on to There are long overpasses and high fences above the casting furnace, and there are violent gasps. More than thirty meters below them was tumbling molten metal, and the Blade of Ral had fallen into the depths of the molten iron without making even a single extra sound.
In Fulgrim's slightly angry bright eyes, Akulduna somehow confirmed that the evil strange knife had undoubtedly been completely burned. He then realized that he had a lot of temporary blood marks on his body. Even if the battle master with whom he was fighting swordsman restrained the power and skill of each of his strikes, it was still unrealistic for Akulduna to remain unscathed.
Fulgrim threw down the steel bar he temporarily broke from the railing, thought for a moment, and kicked the steel bar with several sharp sword marks into the furnace below. Erduna grabbed his shoulders before falling to the ground.
"There is always something that is intent on harming our destiny." The purple-robed Phoenix whispered majestically, and the fire of the furnace outlined the outline of his sparkling face.
A strange flame disappeared from his palm without a trace - it seemed that the holy fire had been ignited in his depths since that long-ago Olympian day.
Then, he lowered his head and comforted: "I hope your soul feels good, Akul Duna, otherwise we really can't contact the Think Tank, Rune Priest or Storm of the Thousand Dust Sun right now. The same is true for the prophet."
"I think it's okay," Akulduna paused, carefully observing his state, from body to mind, and then repeated, "I think it is, father. If you are worried, please detain me temporarily to prevent traces of confusion remaining in my body."
"No need, just stay with me for the time being. No matter what kind of detention you have. How can it be safer than being monitored by the original body?" Fulgrim smiled, noticing Akulduna's still thoughtful expression, and smiled, "What else have you discovered?"
"I think I saw a world in panic," Akulduna analyzed the visions he saw. Some of the traces that still existed became clearer and clearer, outlining an astonishing outline of a skeleton that frightened him. He frowned and analyzed it carefully, until Fulgrim's hot palm tightened even more, awakening his memories.
“Medusa.” Akulduna said seriously, taking a gentle step away from Fulgrim’s palm and saluting Fulgrim as a warrior, “In the illusion, I saw a trapped planet, that was Medusa."
Fulgrim's expression was frozen in urgent thought.
"The darkness of the warp..." the Primarch muttered.
"It will disperse," Akulduna said. "Are we going to Medusa then?"
"Without a doubt." Purple Phoenix replied coldly.
——
When he faces Callifon again, how should he speak?
Perturabo looked at the snow-capped distant mountains and the lush forest that became increasingly green along the ridgeline. In the valley surrounded by mountains, there is a golden and white city.
She possesses the strongest defensive fortress in the entire galaxy, and because of her efforts to maintain a low profile, she can be hidden between the pages of the history books being written by the Tribunal of Remembrance.
However, no one would doubt that this is one of the few dream city-states in the entire galaxy filled with laughter and melodious music... Just as no one would doubt that the huge arsenal and orbital shipyard on the other side of Olympia swallow up countless amounts of steel every year. And spit out cannonballs one after another and a giant ship with its belly full of ammunition.
This is Lokos of Olympia, home of the Iron Warriors.
"You are back, Lord Primarch," Queen Kalifon's figure appeared in front of the Iron Warrior Gene Primarch through the broadcast of the communication line and the enhancement of the optical screen.
Although more than ten years have passed, Carifon has not aged much compared to the last time we met. Her hair is shiny and flowing, her eyes are as bright as before, and some gentle carvings still carve her out. The natural look adds a soft glow.
In the long years, long enough for a planet to be governor of ten generations, Calliphon and Perturabo became living statues of the Olympia star cluster: a set of unshakable symbols, A living guarantee of a stable and peaceful life.
Carly's dewy eyes fell on Perturabo's face, and she gradually became silent.
"What happened, Abo?" she asked softly.
“We will meet and talk.” Perturabo said, without any unnecessary expression on his face, “I will explain all this to you, Callifon. I must thank you for allowing Olympia to stand until today. It is an extremely great project. And I must tell you that I will ask for a more powerful legion from Olympia, and even a potential war - once the fire is ignited, it will no longer be controlled by the fire starter."
Califon looked at him calmly: "Then come, Abo. All these changes are brought to Olympia by your wisdom. No matter what you will do, I believe Olympia will be proud of you. ...Come, let us hear your voice with our own ears.”
(End of this chapter)