Chapter 41 This sister I have seen before
The Iron Warriors advanced along the passage in a standard tactical formation.
Ten thousand years.
Everyone feels that the long-lost blood and vitality are moving along the pace of their progress - every breath, every falling step, something from ten thousand years ago is reviving along the blood vessels and nerves , just as the scorching lava begins anew to turn the magma channels of an extinct volcano into the same red destruction, so the silent rusted steel is on its way to his furnace and anvil.
Although they know each other is very likely, there is only one person.
A new recruit.
A new recruit with the face of Rogal Dorn.
Both Soltarn and Dassadra put on their Terminator Armor. The traces of countless battles in the past were well preserved on it, but the inside of the armor had been repaired. They led the team in silence. Although each of them already knew the terrain data of this place well, their sensors were still shining with the same lights that worked frequently before every battle.
"Soltarn." Dashadra's voice suddenly sounded in the communication channel. This was unusual, because the war blacksmiths-especially the guards officers who were qualified to get close to Perturabo The regiment was, in fact, in a state of intense competition most of the time, with everyone within it hoping to be promoted by the Primarch as a matter of pride to a position in the Trident.
In the beginning, others will only compete for the remaining two positions of the trident, because the first one undoubtedly belongs to Kydomor Forrix.
But after ten thousand years, everything has changed, things have changed, and the Fourth Army has essentially become a ball of loose sand.
But it’s different now.
The Primarch walked out of his Iron Palace.
The Iron Blood set sail again, flying across the galaxy carrying their genetic father.
Now that Aharin firmly occupies the last position of the Trident, the other two positions that have not yet been appointed naturally begin to become carrots dangling in front of everyone's eyes.
Private communications between warsmiths would virtually never occur under these circumstances, but Soltarn does have a knack for being different.
Ever since he was the adjutant of the company ten thousand years ago, he has been deeply favored by the original body because of his unique and powerful talents. However, the original body has never proposed to promote him to the Trident, and the forged stone He was very calm about this from beginning to end, even to the point that Dassadra suspected that he actually did not want to serve as the Primarch's trident at all.
So communicating with Soltarn has become the only and reasonable thing.
The unique voice of the old mason's damaged vocal cords sounded in the communicator, "What is it, Dasadra."
"I...I don't know." Dasa Della hesitated for 0.01 seconds and temporarily replaced "Do you think our plan can be executed smoothly" with "How long do you think it will take us to take down the infirmary and the new recruit?"
Soltarn did not answer the question directly, he just replied, "Just do it, Dassadra, we are the Iron Warriors. If you are confused, recite the Iron Litany."
There is one final corner to the pharmacist's workshop.
——
Parogov has never been so calm. He even has a strange perception. On the other hand, he organizes a defense with terrifying calmness and efficient use of any possible resources at hand. , and on the other side is myself who is quietly observing all this.
The pharmacist apprentice is the second recruit to leave the surgical dormant cabin. From the beginning, he has been learning pharmacy and medical knowledge with Hong Suo, without being with anyone else.
His teacher always said that the fighting and shooting knowledge he personally imparted to his young apprentices was enough for the time being. Once he gained more knowledge about apothecary skills and sharpened them in the training ground, there would be no big problem.
His work is always arranged in an orderly manner by himself and he uses his time accurately to every minute. The only activity related to relaxation may be to go to the library with Julius. For him, , checking information and reading are a very comfortable way of leisure.
Parogov rarely even goes to the cafeteria to pick up meals during busy hours. He always goes early, gets enough for himself and his teacher, and then returns to the laboratory to continue working.
Therefore, he did not know where the instinctive master-level combat and defense knowledge came from in his mind.
While he started to defend, he also contacted Julius on the other side through a private channel. The latter promised to come immediately and find a way to contact the Chapter Leader and the others. Until then Parogov only had to defend himself and the teacher here for nine minutes.
But this is really perfect. The entire defense layout is centered around the medical room where the patient is located, from the inside out, and is designed according to the specifications of multiple defense lines and multiple doors, making clever use of all terrain and sight angles. The purpose of the defense is to completely devour the offender, without any moral or theoretical restrictions or constraints -
Parogov stuffed the last biological reagent bottle into the machine modified with a mechanical injection arm In the pipe ballista, he suddenly shuddered.
A thought pierced his mind like a terrifying and poisonous dagger.
What a terrible situation would it be if such powerful forces decided not to choose the empire?
Suddenly a noble, strong but extremely exhausted voice almost gave up sounded from the defense line.
"So now it's over and you don't have to suffer for it anymore. There's no more restraint, he's won and you're free, my son, to do what you have to do."
The roots of Parogov's hair exploded with fear. Adrenaline glands and other hormones caused him to quickly retreat and draw his sword with an inhuman agility.
But there is nothing behind him.
A strong sense of sarcasm, bitterness, self-deprecation and an even stronger sense of emptiness and powerlessness attacked him.
His heart seemed to be tightly clenched with the coldness of despair.
Before darkness took over everything, Parogov suddenly realized that the sound just came from his own vocal cords.
——
“What do you mean, are you going to disobey? Julius.”
Incense is lit in the private reading room, Thousand Sons——Silver The director of the Skull Think Tank is leaning leisurely on his couch - a piece of furniture with one armrest between a sofa and a single bed. There are several servo skulls floating above and around his head, flipping through the pages for him. books.
The director of the think tank himself was holding a bunch of dates dipped in powdered sugar and eating them while looking at them.
His apprentice stood opposite him, anxious and determined.
Emenut was still comforting Julius, "I just did some calculations again. The omen given by Tarot is that everything goes well. I think this matter will be resolved well in the end. You Why rush to cause trouble?”
Julius simply didn’t know how to explain it to his teacher.
Fortunately, the master prophet seemed to be very tolerant of his apprentice, and finally promised Julius that he could sneak out by himself, and he just pretended that he "didn't see it."
Very nice change. Emmenut drew the attention of the mech with a psychic snap of his fingers, while watching his apprentice slip out of the room covered in a magical phantom.
As soon as he left the station, Julius immediately ran towards where Parogov was.
"Parogov! Hold on! I'll be there soon! It only takes nine minutes!"
Dead (dead)
Being informed that it must be updated to 100,000 before noon ……
I don’t know this rule at all! (Screaming) I was so scared that I only got up for four hours of sleep to code, and my computer was going to be down
It’s really gone. Anyway, I hope everyone has enough tickets to save some for me next month. It will be released on December 1st. Use it (I don’t know if it is used in this way?) Thank you, thank you, thank you very much...
(End of this chapter)