Chapter 320 In the Infirmary
“This is totally unexpected.”
Talos—now completely taking off his power armor for the first time after centuries of service, Put on a simple linen robe - the former has been strongly requested to return to the armory due to the extremely poor hardware condition and the machine soul condition that is so bad that even the mechanical priests except Dietrian have begun to recite weird binary prayers. Overhaul.
This group of oil guys served a little coquettishly at first, trying to hide their precarious loyalty to the human incarnation of the Ohm Messiah. After discovering Dietrian’s simple but extremely rich army, After the database and the S.T.C. template fragments promised by the Lord of Night, now they all want to be used as mechanical donkeys for the Eighth Legion.
That is the STC template fragment promised by the emperor's son who has probably the best second sight in the universe (as for whether it is a demon or not, the machine spirits have given extremely positive signals at present) ! Even if he doesn't have it in his hands now, judging from the excellent performance of the Lord of the Night in fighting and ruling in Thessaguarsa for several months, he must be able to have it if he says he can!
"Indeed." Valier sat aside and flicked the data pad in his hand. This former Red Pirate apothecary and apprentice of the Lord of the Corpses was looting the Coronation's infirmary. After that, now the shotgun is replaced by a cannon, and at the same time, the only pharmacist brother in the third company is also ordered around. This poor Astarte just has to remember Valier's never mentioned twice about ward rounds, dispensing, sampling, testing, writing reports, etc. I was so busy waiting for instructions that I hit the back of my head.
“I didn’t expect that after ten thousand years, the probability of new colonists on Thessaguarsa relying solely on psykers produced by natural mutations would be so high. Although this place was once the second largest city of our Legion, Home and the World of Carrion, but because it is really remote and barren, at least until we left it for the last time, there were actually no things like the inanimate or the rift in the sea of souls, and even the subspace channels were unremarkable. I have never seen such a rate of psyker production - maybe the wizard planet of the Fifteenth Legion can match it, but I have not seen it with my own eyes."
"Rumors about that planet— —It’s better not to have the experience of seeing it with your own eyes. I heard about the Scarlet King of the Thousand Sons Wizards when I was in Hell Iris. There seems to be something wrong with you recently.”
“You are. Talking about the rumors about him starting to lose his binding force on the legion?"
"Exactly. Although being a soldier under the wizard of the Fifteenth Legion is definitely not something that people would be attracted to, but things have changed. The Lord’s servants have never been able to predict, and too many unexplained actions are unfolding every moment in every corner of the universe.”
"However, there are also their figures in the Black Legion. Abaddon has never stopped being interested in more powerful prophets. I guess this is an inevitable part of everyone who tries to be the leader. The time he recruited me It's not a pleasant experience, Lu Wen is a complete idiot."
"With all due respect, Talos, until we met the Lord of the Night, I always thought that you insisted on talking with high fever. The whole ship of us was brought to this frontier world of wights. Thessaguarsa is a kind of crazy person who is irresponsible and doesn't know what he is doing, just like your father back then. Of course, now you are all the claws. You are said to be the greatest prophet brother in the history of the Eighth Legion. I heard that they have recently begun to think that you may be the greatest prophet among the twenty legions in the galaxy in ten thousand years."
"Ahem! Never mention this in front of the Primarch. My talent is less than one ten thousandth of that of my father - but in the past, the Thousand Sons were still loyal to their father."
"This is true. But before I left the maelstrom, I also heard that some wizards' silver towers appeared in places that they would not normally appear..."
Taros stood up slightly, followed by the dense pipelines on his body. He moved with his movements, and the pink implants and stitched scars of the new wounds were neat and beautiful, showing the skill and calmness of the surgeon - he carefully took away the condolence gifts and snack boxes in front of his bed - of course the condolence gifts were only Possibly from the real life couple Septimus and Octavia on this ship, and the snack box decorated with midnight wrapping paper and red paint paw prints is eerily from the residence of the Lord of the Eighth Army, who for a while He had to hide them all before others knew about it and came to snatch them, especially the snack box that he was reluctant to open. "What happened to 'those'?"
Valier stopped fiddling with the instruments beside Talos's hospital bed and raised his extremely pale eyes. "Two hundred and thirteen failed, and one hundred and nine are ready for harvest." He said briefly and concisely. He replied, "Sixty-one successful ones, all dormant in sterile tanks."
"Does the original body know?"
"I haven't told him yet, if you Think, I can just destroy them, or write them in the next report. "...Tell him. After all, I didn't intend for you to die here with us, Valier."
“What do you mean? Do you mean that you didn’t originally want me to fight to the death with you in this worthless ghost place?”
"We are the remnants of the past, the echoes of the curse. We come back here and die here... Yes, but you are different. You are the Night Lord, but you are not cursed. You hold our last future... Markarian and I planned to send you away before the final landing."
Valier took a breath, he seemed to be smiling, but it was more like he was suppressing his anger with a smile. "You know how you talk can be really annoying sometimes, brother?"
"I rarely see you lose your temper, Valier."
"You always used to Too much was asked of me, too much was expected of me, Talos."
"But it is all right now, our father, our Primarch, our Lord of the Legions has returned."
"Yes. And looking more than ever like the father of humanity and the master of the Legion that I knew."
For a moment they were silent, and only the smell of instruments and disinfectants filled the brand new In the infirmary.
As one of the facilities that the original body requested to be renovated, this place is different from the one in their memory that was filled with densely packed rusty steel anatomy tables, filled with the smell of blood, broken limbs and painful moans everywhere. The place with wounded people, the ground always wet and covered with sticky blood and suspicious biomass, like a slaughter market, is completely different.
Talos lay back on the white linen pillow, letting the back of his neck, which had been coated with anti-itch and anti-inflammatory ointment, be gently and comfortably supported.
"You did a good job, thank you, Valier." Finally, the worst pharmacist of the Eighth Legion sincerely thanked him, "Although you slapped me twice, I am still very happy. Thank you for coming with us, you are a true member of the Night Lords."
"Thank you. I also think that I am very professional in my field of work. Moreover, we have not owed each other for a long time, and there is no need for such special thanks. This is the reason why I left the Maelstrom and put on the winged skull of the Night Lord It’s time to do it. I will always stand with you because we are brothers until death, Talos. No matter what, we are all members of the Eighth Legion.”
The prophet lay on the pillow with his eyes and mouth closed, so the pharmacist couldn't see his expression clearly. He adjusted the nutrient intravenous drip inserted into the combat medicine port on Talos' wrist to low speed, and then walked away quietly.
(End of this chapter)