Chapter 241 The horrifying truth that he dared not face
The conversation between Angron and his genetic father, the Emperor, ended quickly. After all, neither party wanted to get any further with the other at this time. learn.
The Emperor seemed a little surprised by the son he had received in every aspect, but then was quite satisfied with his answers and his appearance, and the Twelfth Primarch's mood was all over the place. Hidden behind a polite social mask, no one could tell - Angron swore that he definitely heard a hint of "how could he grow so good after so long ago" and "this voice" from that voice? I feel a little embarrassed."
Of course, only he can feel this minimal soul emotion, and except for the Imperial Guard, everyone on the Emperor's Dream is in awe of this newly returned son who can answer fluent questions with his imperial father. quietly rose.
Angron Petra was not immediately sent to join his Legion.
He was told that the 203rd Battle Group led by the flagship of the Twelfth Legion, still called the Fortitude and Resolve, was rushing here day and night.
Although the Lord of Ironheart felt the prying eyes of a certain person, Angron decided to pretend not to notice.
And the man who spied on him seemed unaware of another fact, that within the confines of the Emperor's Dream, there was always a greater and more radiant eye watching all.
It was not suitable for him to board other people's ships now, so the Emperor made an exception to allow the newly found heir to stay in the guest room specially opened for him on the Emperor's Dream.
An old man wearing a gorgeous robe and with the mark of a double-headed eagle on the back of his head proudly and humbly introduced him to the furnishings in this luxurious and huge room. Finally, he said, "You are my Lord's first in many years." The high-pitched twelve-line chant at the beginning of "Two Overnight Children" finally succeeded in breaking Angron's patience with mortals.
The red-haired giant politely but firmly stated that what he needed now was to rest alone, and then "invited" the old servant, who seemed to want to say something else, out of the magnificent bedroom.
Oh my God, my father, there is so much gold here, he thought, and the eyes and head of the Primarch Twelve felt hot, swollen and aching from the glitter everywhere.
His adoptive father and teacher once taught him that if he encounters the current situation, it is better to sit down and take a bath, have a cup of hot drink, and then go to bed comfortably and sleep.
“Since I can’t make any major decisions for the time being, there is nothing better than sleep to soothe the mind. Take it as it comes. This is what I learned from my genetic father and Chapter Master. One of the most useful teachings I ever heard there.”
So he did just that, bathing in the oversized marble cherub that poured hot water from a gold vase. Take a hot bath, then dry yourself, wrap yourself in a nightgown, put the ax, pistol and other items neatly by your hands and under the pillow, and get rid of all unnecessary people and servitors in the house for the last time before going to bed. , and finally fell asleep peacefully.
Day and night aboard the Emperor's Dream crossed the zero point of Terra.
Angron Petra found himself nearly naked - thankfully with a crotch cloth - standing at the very bottom of some huge pit-shaped building.
Again. What is it this time?
The smell of death sacrifice and ignorant violence in his nose instantly made him frown.
But the protagonist here is him but not him.
He's meeting someone.
This is a certain ghost floating over Nuceria.
A dream in which a ghost dwells in the past.
The huge, headless corpses of the two Pit Fighters fell in the red-dyed sand. All life, vitality, names, good and evil had drained away from their bodies, and only the The squirming metal "nails" like living animals hammered into their skulls and dirty scalps are still gnawing at the brains of the deceased unsatisfied, as if they hope they can still stand up and continue to satisfy it with pain, blood and killing. Similar.
Representing the endless slaughter and the berserkers lost in violence, a pair of iron horn crowns were stained with the blood of their owners and lay horizontally in the roasted red sand.
The gaze of Angron's body did not stay too much on the corpses of the defeated, as if he had seen this scene many, many times, so that to him they were just the common, daily gravel under his feet.
But the iron-hearted benevolent man still noticed the evil lurking on those nails with the corner of his eye and something deeper was given to them.
Damn it. He thought to himself, I remember He is quite displeased... He even hates those who play with psychic powers and witchcraft? Why, you can't be responsible, acknowledge or reject what is delivered to your door, right?
Then he saw the anti-gravity silver monitor floating in front of him - kind of like a servo skull with only eyes - and a voice came from it, with malice and control, playing with a dog being kept in the mud. Tone -
"The people of Deshii want more! Undefeated Angron! The old bear of Ulcham, Oinomouth! Let's take a look at these two today The great warrior in the arena, the beloved general of the audience, who among you is the true greater warrior? ”
The people sitting around the Colosseum suddenly burst into tsunami-like shouts and screams of ecstasy to express their complete approval of this bloodthirsty proposal.
Fighting beasts, slashing with beastmen, and finally the blood of the berserker champions can no longer satisfy the people's blood lust.
The people being killed are becoming more and more human-like, so they want more. They want the blood of the stronger among men, and they want to drink here the blood offered by one of Angron and Oinomouth.
Angron Petra was silent, hearing in the ghost's body that he puffed up his chest and tried to say a word for the first time.
He thought he would at least get some support.
After all, he is a great warrior in the arena and a beloved general of the people, isn't he?
"No."
The word was so rare and so loud, and the huge gladiatorial arena suddenly fell into an eerie silence.
Angron Tark, inspired by the silence, repeated the word without hesitation, speaking it aloud from the slave pits to the godlike High Riders The cloud he sits on.
O'Inomuth's hand was on the arm of Angron Tark, the child he had raised so he would accompany him.
"No?!" The monitor - Angron Tark called it the "Maggot Eye" in his heart - began to laugh at the person who was speaking. They gathered around and circled It spun around him, making sarcastic and threatening sounds.
"Who allowed you to say no? Angron Tarke, the property of the Tarke family! Now give us a wonderful and exciting blood-spattered battle show and his head, then Perhaps we can be merciful and forgive your disrespect!”
Then who allowed you to do this to others? As Angron Petra chewed, he discovered that even the teeth of this body had been removed and replaced with black steel teeth, just to make the young man look more intimidating and ornamental, just like a fighting man. Dogs generally sharpen their canine teeth.
... Damn it, I really don’t understand how things got to this point. Isn’t there any sense and logic in this place? Once again, he meditated on his teacher's instructions, making decisions before taking action, and he continued to observe through the eyes of the young gladiator.
He saw that the young gladiator still retained a slight, naive hope in his heart, and thought that he could believe in the favor of the people - at least in exchange for the old gladiator's life, right? ——Just one gladiator’s life——As long as they cheered to the high riders in unison——
He also heard the gladiator say, if you want more blood, you can come down and fight yourself. We fought, and the collective human emotions surging around us almost - almost reached a certain critical point, but Angron Petra felt more fear, selfishness and dark despicability from inside - hell!
What the hell! Angron Petra understands the heart of Angron Tarc. This strong demigod fighter has only lived in the dark dungeon under the arena since he was a child. He doesn't think he is wise at all. ! No one taught him how to truly use his powers! ——He has no idea and has no way of knowing how powerful, terrifying, bloodthirsty and fickle the "heart of the majority" is!
No one, no one can explain those truths and knowledge to him clearly, lead him to stand up from the mistakes that can be repaired and corrected, and experience those truths again and again, as a slave gladiator fighting for his life. , he didn’t have any chance to try and make mistakes, because the price of mistakes was life!
At this moment, Angron Petra truly began to realize the gap between himself and the ghost, and how rare and precious the truth and teachings he had obtained were.
He observed the High Riders and their guards communicating privately within those anti-gravity mechanisms and implants, revealing their level of isolation from the arena audience.
Finally, the maggot eye that had been talking floated down again, and its voice became loud and sharp, ensuring that his words could be transmitted to the ears of every living person present.
"You are nothing but a dog! Angron Tark! You are a bastard who was raised here just for everyone to watch you kill other bastards or be killed! Use your bastards It is your life to entertain our people! Who do you think you are? A domestic dog dares to rebel against his masters!"
The voice of the High Rider agitator seemed to be singing a song. A beautiful aria of malice, "A domestic dog that dares to resist should be beaten until he becomes obedient. Until he obediently provides daily entertainment for his owners, he is the good dog we like, everyone."
His laughing tail echoed on the blood-stained, hot sand of the arena, and Angron Tark felt the audience that was beginning to become cold towards him. And Angron Petra had completely foreseen what was going to happen. He gritted his teeth in this body and stretched out his hand with all his strength towards the boy who was staring at the butcher's nail in the severed head on the ground, which was beginning to melt. ——
“O wise and just people of Deshii, we—?!” The host of the arena deliberately prolonged his voice in an artificial manner, so as to arouse more despicable and dark gleeful carnivals in the hearts of mortals, “Alas! ! Let us tell you, how should we teach our beautiful puppy that has become disobedient? ”
A short sentence began to be mentioned to each other in the seats of the arena? , was recited, and the single word was shouted excitedly in Nucería.
Angron Petra completely understood the meaning of this Nucerian word, but this word made him experience two feelings of anger, one was like ice, falling into his stomach, and the other was like ice, falling into his stomach. Angron Tark, his hands and feet are cold, and his heart is cold; the one who is like a spark that will burn everything here is Angron Petra. Only the land burned by the prairie fire can sprout new shoots.
“Nail him!” The people, who were in the ecstasy of sacrificing a star, shouted along with the voice of the High Rider host, “Nail! Nail! Nail! Nail him!”
Angron Petra felt that he had truly completed the transformation into a stone-hearted person at that moment, and at the same time he understood Angron Talk—who had the body of a giant and could only see the arena since he could remember it. A truth that a child named Angron in Sky and the Blood of the Dead was unwilling to face.
Except for people who are as humble as me.
The whole world is the enemy.
So...
(End of this chapter)