Chapter 520: For Whom the Bell Tolls (5K1)
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What part of the human body contains the most iron?
It's blood.
Without iron, blood would not have that special red color.
Without iron, blood cannot function.
Without calcium, there would be no bones to support the body, and without iron, there would be no hemoglobin, which carries vital oxygen.
The Lord of Steel sat in his seat, his handsome and straight nose covered with fine white down.
The edges of the cheeks become longer and softer, together with the cashmere-like slender ear hairs, which balance the narrowness of the bridge of the nose well, making this face full of ancient and mysterious wisdom and majesty.
He is already quite old, and the black hair on his face is mixed with white hair like growth rings. His eyelashes, which have turned into pure white, are now casting a small and fine shadow above his dark brown almond-shaped eyes.
But his pupils and eyes are still so sharp and clear. Every time people see it, they will feel that the world is so clear and beautiful. If someone tells him that nothing in the world is perfect, then he will tell them , this is perfect. ——This is the super unreasonable, two-thousand-light-year-thick filter from the soul that lives in the Lord of Steel's own body, and the perspective of a Seris border shepherd master.
Whether Perturabo BC knows this or not, it is obvious that his current appearance has the ability to have a certain impact on the soul in his body.
Because people who were observing him intoxicated could not help but notice that his brows were furrowed, his long eyebrows were shaking, and his pupils were narrowed, staring at the thing he was playing with.
Following Perturabo BC's gaze, the person sitting opposite him moved his gaze to the item that the dog's paws were fidgeting with.
Ramizane Carosini has actually seen this exquisite and gorgeous miniature work more than once.
Just before he himself came to this universe, he had finally upgraded from "The list of extraordinary gods! This is the top of the list of completely cesspit gods!" to "I have cleared a small area at the door where I can sit down and start cleaning up the house." I have heard a little about the "great" deeds of the more primitive entity that this work is modeled after.
Moreover, he recently happened to find the world's supplementary record of this holy bell in the Iron-Blooded's large library. He read it with gusto, and finally saw the religious book that enthusiastically wrote, "This is what the holy bell is for." The description of "I won't fall into the hands of evil chaos, so I will ascend to heaven" really made him laugh.
——Indeed, this big bell did not fall into the hands of Chaos in the end, but does it count as ascending to heaven when it is in the museum on the world of Solemnas Tomb? Should it actually be considered an unexplained disappearance to Imperial investigators? You see, when faith has become something that has penetrated into the blood and bone marrow, no matter how unreasonable something is, people will always immediately think of attaching miracles to it.
Although the specific details are unclear, the bell of Saint Ishtar seems to have struck thirteen times to herald the final decisive battle in Cadia or the unfolding of the great rift? Anyway, when the knocking was finished, it was said that an entire hall of the museum in Trazin was blown up or something? It seems that it has also caused various strange phenomena in many imperial worlds, including Cadia? Is there any? But since he actually hadn’t read the book The Fall of Cardia in order before he came here, he didn’t know that after he came here, the iron that was refined from the blood of Saint Ishtar would Will the forged bell still be the same as the little things he knew...
"Clang!"
The first time.
The ice-blue-eyed giant subconsciously trembled because of the sudden, rich, and so close ringing of the bell.
The border collie stared coldly, almost indifferently, at this miniature upgraded version of the Bell of Saint-Ishtar.
The second hand on its dial still didn't move, but the pendulum below it began to swing.
"Is this...it's ringing?"
Lamizane sat upright and turned around to look, but everything in the expanded Court of the Dead Square remained as peaceful as before.
The endless stream of pilgrims still held candles or incense in their hands devoutly. Under the care and command of the "security guards" who were much taller and stronger than them, they slowly formed a long pilgrim queue that surged forward. The shining neon signs reflected people's peaceful faces with a rare glimmer of hope.
And everything was as usual in the "delicious and nutritious" restaurant where they were, and the guests were enjoying their meals quietly and cherishedly - almost, only a few guests and some Astartes waiters raised their heads towards them in surprise and alert. From the box view. There seemed to be a little noise deep in the back kitchen.
"Didn't they hear...? Such a loud bell..."
In a rare move, Primarch Bianmu did not immediately answer his question. He just continued to stare at the clock, especially the extra hands on its face.
Now, the needles remain rock solid.
Then, the pendulum swayed greatly, and it struck a second time by itself. The resonant sound waves were transmitted to the distance through the indescribable waves of the supreme sky. Even further, the tide of birth spread to both sides of time and space.
"Clang!"
The second time.
Most of the people in Lamizane's sight still showed no reaction.
But his emergency communicator went off.
He lowered his head and glanced: This was the Iron Blood—to be precise, it was a communication request from Magna Dorn.
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"Clang!"
The third time.
The anglers sitting on the shores of Magna City, the capital of Macragge, fishing to avoid matchmakers and pass the time are gone.
There was only the fishing rod left in place and the gorgeous words its owner had just written with his fingertips on the beach.
If someone were here, they would find that this is not Low Gothic or High Gothic, but a script from a lost planet that has been lost in the empire for a long time. The white waves roared and washed up on the golden beach with foam. A prophetic sonnet written in Nostramo was swept into the depths of the azure waters.
————
"Clang!"
The fourth time.
In front of the shrine in the Olympia Military Academy, Soltarn has gathered trusted Iron Warriors.
But there were still a few missing among them, which put a hint of worry in the eyes of the Earth Ruler.
————
"Clang!"
The fifth time.
The Ultramarines have been secretly recalled to the fortress to assemble. The fleet is swimming in the sky. Senior officers, led by the first company commander Agyman, are waiting outside the room of the original saint. Only Maneus Calgar and Va Ro Tigris was allowed into the room for a closed-door meeting.
But what they didn't expect was that they would see someone else on such an occasion.
A mortal.
The chief think tank's palms clenched tightly the moment he saw this uninvited guest.
No, no, not Him, not the monster I saw that day. This was a mortal young man, only a little thinner and paler, but both Ultramarines saw the power hidden under his toga.
He glanced at the other person again. His long black hair was neatly combed but tied back casually with a red ribbon. The same dark eyes seemed to look at the think tank director with a little smile - outside the window. The sun shone through the armored glass on half of the young man's face, causing the originally bottomless pupils to reflect a glaze-like halo.
"Why are you so surprised? I think you guys know each other. No need for me to introduce you."
Julius, their father's sage, said this as he sat behind a desk filled with papers.
After experiencing Lord Julius's meticulous arrangements and extraordinary plans for government affairs, military affairs, and even religion and people's livelihood during this period, the two Ultramarines have confirmed that this saint must be the one left to the Ultramarines by their missing father. Their comfort and guidance - who else but a Primarch could achieve such a miraculous level on his own? This ability to calculate and think has surpassed any powerful meditator they know - and even the surging aura, now they are condensed on the newly created laurel crown, only the most advanced psychic masters may be able to There is a hint of cleverly hidden power.
"Yes, my lord." Calgar noticed Tigris's recovery, put his fist on his breastplate and saluted, and at the same time, he restrained and politely nodded to the mortal who was sitting carelessly and did not get up, "Kant. Cratchit, Macragge's newest honorary citizen, I have heard from Argyman about your good deeds, and I would like to thank you again personally for your contribution to our logistics and logistics."
"Ah." The young man whose name was mentioned opened his mouth and showed the teeth in his mouth. For a moment, it seemed like an ancient giant shark showing its sharp teeth, but if you look closely, it was just a row of brushes. Very shiny straight white teeth. "You're too polite." He smiled again, "Please take more care of our business in the future."
His attitude of being so relaxed and even rude in front of the Primarch Saint, yet being treated with equal tolerance by the Saint, made the two leaders of the Ultramarines look at each other.
"My lord." Tigris asked softly, "Who is this...?"
"Oh." The man with the same face and scars as their genetic father smiled, "This... just think that he is also a guest in a similar situation to me."
Both Astartes officers opened their eyes at the same time.
Pretty much the same situation?
But Lord Julius is a fragment of the original body——
Another saint of the Primarch?
Another one?
Is the revival of the empire coming? ! Will they be lucky enough to welcome the return of a second Primarch after the Gene Father? !
"No, he doesn't plan to reveal his identity now. This will happen after 'I' am officially recognized by the empire and return."
Julius said calmly, while adding a little psychic skill to his voice, "If Cratchit is not exposed now, he will be a surprise force in the next battle we have to deal with. Magnius, Varro, I hope You keep this precious secret only in this room."
The two extreme warriors were overwhelmed by his voice as cold as a mountain spring, and their rapid breathing calmed down.
"As you wish. My lord."
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"Cang!" the sixth time.
Malcador, who was fighting with Eldrad Uslan without a smile, stopped his words and tightened his lips.
The Supreme Prophet of Uthwe also slowly frowned across from this cunning mortal.
"Did you feel it too?" The prophet's slender eyes stared closely at the old human's face, "It rang on time, but... it sounded...?"
"Brighter and... harmonious, isn't it?"
The old man also frowned. Why did the sound of the Holy Bell sound more harmonious and louder than expected, but there was a very subtle premonition in his heart?
The two old foxes said goodbye in a hurry and immediately began to divine. One took out a set of Tarot, and the other took out the spiritual stone runes.
The results showed that they were able to "reach their destination normally and smoothly and complete the tasks assigned to them by fate."
Doesn't this seem to be a problem? Where could the problem be?
————
"Clang!"
The seventh time.
The machine soul of the Mountain Formation let out deep roars. It became restless and ready to go.
The technical sergeants and mechanical priests ran around in a panic, wondering why this ancient sacred fortress was suddenly so emotional.
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"Clang!"
The eighth time.
The Shadow Daughter, who was holding a meeting with the Death Army, stood up suddenly amid everyone's puzzled and surprised looks.
The Midnight Mourning Theater Company's Curtain Walkers slip silently behind the curtain.
What is missing from this drama is a member who, although not very important, is missing so much that Ifreni and other Eldar are concerned about it, the Phoenix Lord Jaan Zhar of the Shrine of the Howling Banshee.
Her whereabouts have been elusive since her last departure, but countless divination and drama shows that she is still alive and unharmed, but unable to return to them.
But if they want to pursue it further, even the great ancestors in the Crystal Temple circuit will express strong resistance and refuse to peek into the backstage content of this part of the Theater of Destiny.
And the clowns sent out also disappeared into the sea like mud cows, without any news.
But just when the bell rang, it seemed that the guard guarding Jaen Zar was distracted by the sound of the bell. All the Eldar present who were related to the fate of the Phoenix Lord, especially the Howling Banshee Everyone who followed the path felt the scream from the soul of the Banshee Lord that was almost impossible to cry out.
"Run away!!!"
Run away?
What does this mean?
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"Clang!"
The ninth time.
Belisarius Cawl roared at the Eldar Veil Walker behind him, "This is the world from Abaddon's Sixth Dark Crusade! I don't understand why you want me to come here! There is nothing here ! Except for these undecipherable black stone building ruins! We should rush back to join the big team as soon as possible!"
"No need to worry about your worries. Dig in, dig in, and the pearls will always be strung into a necklace." The Harlequin floated in the air, using her soft limbs to make strange and beautiful movements. Her mask was smooth, There is nothing, "The door of the Webway is open for you. The bell has tolled, the bell has tolled, it is about to be born, flowing from the birth canal."
"Ohm Messiah's gas welder! What is that thing again?!"
————
"Clang!"
The tenth time.
Among all the temples and monasteries on Cadia, those who had held on for a long time had not allowed the buildings they guarded to be breached by the enemy's army: the Guardsmen who came to support, the warriors of the Cadian regiment, the nuns of the Sisters, the Black The Astartes in the temple, who carried holy objects that could produce sound, all resonated with the sound of the bell. Some noticed it and began to verify with joy, while others, like Marshal Amarych, were leading his sword brothers to launch a more determined charge towards the retreating enemy.
—————
"Clang!"
The eleventh time.
Captain Hanna Keztrall is pulling the nose of her Avenger out of the clouds.
Even though she had some protective measures that were better than nothing, the gravitational acceleration endured by her mortal body still made her eyes go black.
But she was a skilled pilot and had a cooperative weapons operator.
They're on pace for another perfect kill record.
"Looks like it," she heard the slightly odd tone of her weapons operator Ravs' voice as she stepped back on the accelerator and pulled her beloved Deadeye back to level. "The enemy is beginning to retreat. But do you hear anything?"
"What?" She hesitated. Just now she thought it was just a temporary problem caused by the rush of blood to her brain, but did Rafs hear it too? "Bells?"
"Yes, it's strange. Could it be channel interference?"
"Be careful of enemy attacks."
"I'll check."
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"Clang!"
The twelfth blow.
His adjutant walked into the room and closed the blast door, which was thick and strong enough to cut off the noise of the banquet celebrating the victory outside and the requests for Lord Creed to come out and give a victory speech.
"Are they still partying?" he asked without looking up.
"Yes." Creed's flag-bearer Garland Kyle replied, and he also smelled of the alcohol he had picked up while walking through the party.
"Tomorrow's wake-up call cannot be postponed...but let's forget it tonight. Proper venting is good for morale." The commander of the eighth regiment of Cardia and the castle master Creed, who was ordered in danger, frowned and looked sharply. Looking at the documents and maps in front of him, "This matter is not over yet. Absolutely."
He took a final puff, then pressed the burned cigar butt into the ashtray made of Earthshaker shells, and placed it on top of the unfolded new information along with the empty Amasec glass.
"Perhaps Admiral Quaren's fleet is only temporarily out of contact. After all, the message we intercepted stated that Abaddon died in the Civil War of the Eye of Terror."
"Hmph." Creed frowned, "I don't think there is something wrong with this. The attack, indeed, took long enough, but something is wrong. Where is their heavy equipment? Where is the elite terminator? Where is the Black Legion? Me I didn’t see it! I didn’t see it! Just ordinary cultists, traitor guards, and Chaos Astartes are not enough! This commander must also have an elite army!”
He returned to the map. "But no one can tell me now... They are all celebrating victory! Tsk! Damn it! Where is Abaddon?!"
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"Clang!"
Thirteenth time.
It's like production.
She thought as she looked at the scene.
It was the physical universe that tore itself apart, letting matter flow around like blood, and then "produced" them out of the warp.
Draula Morcas watched all this from the Blackstone Fortress.
As the wounds of reality continue to widen.
The huge fortress carrying the Chaos Warmaster and his elites completely jumped into the real universe.
(End of chapter)