40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 70 69. The Eighth Legion (5, 4k)

Joseph slowly walked out of his home.

As he stepped out of the open door, he suddenly felt a shiver.

He had no way of knowing the source of this feeling. In fact, he didn't even bother to grasp this fleeting doubt. When acid rain fell from the sky onto his skin, the burning pain caused him to forget those things.

He walked through the shanty town, and there were dying bodies on the roadside staring at the night sky, coughing constantly. Every time he walked through this section of the road, Joseph would feel depressed.

Lie said this feeling is normal because no one wants to hear other people cough, especially people with black lung disease. Once you see them cough up black dust and blood, you will never forget it.

It's a good thing to remember, but Joseph didn't want to remember these things.

He raised his head so that he could not look at them.

He walked through the dark and smelly streets with his neck straight, and arrived at the other end of the shantytown, where Lie's home was. However, as he expected, many people had already arrived here before him.

Lie's home has no door. In fact, he lives under a wall that extends out from the outside. That wall is his home.

Now, it's all densely packed with black characters. The skinny ghosts stood dimly in the darkness, staring at them.

Seeing this scene, Joseph knew that he no longer had to squeeze in to find the queue.

At this time, he is probably not here. The worker turned around and walked into an alley so narrow that he had to walk sideways.

The rough barbs on the metal sheet scraped against his coat, making a harsh sound. Joseph cursed secretly, but he didn't pay much attention to it. He just continued walking forward.

A few minutes later, he found Lie in a relatively small open space. He was lying under a newly erected shed. The plastic sheet he had picked up was erected with wooden sticks. Below it was a raised hard board, and he was lying on it.

"Come on," Joseph called in a low voice. "Want to go out?"

".Tonight?"

Lie opened his eyes and sat up. At some point, there were a few more bruises on his dirty face.

Ever since he decided to mainly pursue the ghost's shadow, injuries had become a common occurrence. Sometimes it was a fall due to the unfamiliar terrain, and sometimes it was being attacked by gangs - it was said to be an attack, but in fact it was better to say it was a kind of driving away.

They treat the workers in the shanty towns as casually as they treat the machines. When the machines in the factory break down, they will be slapped. In their eyes, it is just such a machine.

"What happened tonight?" Joseph asked. He didn't quite understand what was so special about tonight, but Lie laughed.

He climbed out of the plastic sheet, lifted up his bed board, and pulled out a dark red rag that was soaked by the rain. He picked it up, unfolded it, and showed it to Joseph.

"did you see it?"

"What did you see?"

"Look at this sign." Lie said. "The biggest gang in West City, have you seen it?"

Following his guidance, Joseph finally found the sign.

It's unremarkable, even half of it. But Joseph recognized it immediately - since he witnessed the flames in the ruins that day, he came to find Lieutenant every night and went out with him to look for traces of the ghost.

In these days, they saw so many things that they had never imagined before.

Such as this logo.

"Bloody skull?" Joseph lowered his voice and asked. "Where did you get it?"

"Picked from their corpses." Lie replied with a smile. "I've been out tonight, Joseph."

"You went to their station?"

"No, I didn't go. I picked it up on the side of the road, them"

Lie pursed his lips.

"I don't know how to explain this to you, Joseph, but I did see that ghost tonight. It wasn't one, it wasn't one."

His eyes were shining and his words were slightly messy.

"There are many of them."

——

trial.

This is not the first time Enric has done this. He has tried many sinful people.

But, frankly speaking, the sinners of Nostramo are the weakest of them all.

They have no organized army, no weapons that can turn the earth into a sea of ​​fire, they have almost nothing.

Because of this, Enric couldn't understand.

They are the weakest, but they are the most terrifying.

"Eighth Company Commander." A voice sounded in the communication channel. "Aren't you going to let those civilians come over to watch the death of these scum?"

"Don't ask me, Targaryen. I am not your captain."

"You are the highest ranking man in Quintus."

"There are no military ranks now."

"The Primarch has said that he has no intention of stripping you of your rank."

said the Targaryen.

"So, please, give me a definite answer and order. Do we want civilians living in shantytowns to watch the death of these sinners?"

"."

Enric Barbatos was silent for a while before giving his answer.

"No," he said lowly. "It doesn't make sense, they wouldn't understand it now."

"Please allow me to ask again, I didn't hear what you were saying clearly."

"I'm sure there's nothing wrong with my communications system - so, yeah, no need to have them come over."

Enric raised his head and spoke almost in a sigh-like tone.

"The meaning of the trial is to let the sinners understand their sins and to let the victims see justice coming. But, do you think those sinners will repent? They won't, they won't change. And Nostramo also There is no justice.”

"Aren't we just?" asked the Targaryen of the First Company in a low voice.

"We are not." Enric said. "We cannot represent justice."

".Then what are we, Captain Enric?"

"We are judges, nothing more."

Enric hung up the communication, turned around, and took off his helmet, completely exposing his face to the foul, sour air of Nostramo's lower lair.

He stared quietly below. He could see his brothers leading sinners to the place of judgment, and he knew what would happen next. But can this really change Nostramo?

From this, a second question and a deep worry arose in his mind.

Can we really make the Primarch's homeworld a better place? We are only judges and executioners, we can only kill.

But killing never really solves the problem.

Sigh - Enric Barbatos put on his helmet again.

Tonight is still very long.

He jumped off the spire and stepped into the darkness.

——

"How are they doing?"

Midnight Ghost hissed. His expression was excited, that was obvious, and his smile was full of pride and pride.

"How do you think they did?" Khalil asked with a chuckle. "I am not the Lord of the Eighth Legion, nor am I their original body."

"But I want to know what you think."

Ghost said stubbornly, and even suddenly switched to Gothic after this sentence and uttered a phrase.

".Partner."

He blinked, his eyes full of anticipation. "How? What do you think of them?"

My point of view

What can I say, ghost? What can I say other than praise? They did something in one night that I had not been able to do for so many years.

"This is just the beginning, Conrad," Khalil said calmly.

"start?"

"The trial is only the first step." Khalil shook his head. "If you want to rid Nostramo of what he is now, a trial alone will never be enough."

"Tonight, the Eighth Legion killed every nobleman in the five hives of Nostramo, and the gangs are about to become a term for man-made destruction. But what about those workers, Kangla De? What are you going to do with them?"

Midnight Ghost smiled and answered Khalil's question almost impatiently.

"Let them have enough food and clothing, teach them how to read and write, turn factories into normal jobs. Transform the environment, establish laws, let them understand that crimes will be punished. I have thought about all this, Khalil, I have read Fordham Root’s Notes.”

"So, what are you going to do?" Khalil asked calmly.

".Let them be fed and clothed?"

"Yes, that's your purpose, but what are you going to do about it?"

Staring into the eyes that originally wanted to be praised, Khalil calmly spat out cold words in a certain room of the Night No.

Never before had he been so harsh with Konrad Coates, speaking such tough questions with such disregard for his feelings.

But he must do it now.

There is no room for carelessness in this matter.

"What are you going to do, Conrad Coates?" he asked. "Keeping them fed and clothed - how do you start that? Do you drive down the streets with bullhorns and tell them the aristocracy is dead and everyone can have a new life?"

"They won't understand, Conrad. They don't even know what the new life means. And in their understanding, the people driving the cars are big shots from the upper nest, so they will treat you as a The new aristocracy.”

".I'm not!" Midnight Ghost suddenly roared, his hands clenching into fists at some point.

"I know you're not, but do they know?"

".They'll know!"

"No, they won't. Because you are a noble."

"I'm not!"

"You are not a noble of Nostramo, you are a noble of the Human Empire. You are one of the most noble people in this huge empire that spans the galaxy. You are one of the sons of the Emperor."

"And to those workers, you are no different than a god. When you show up, how do you think they will treat you, a giant who is almost three meters tall?"

Lowering his head, the Midnight Ghost trembled and whispered in Nostramo: "I am not a god."

Khalil shook his head, not switching to Nostramo as before.

"Let them be fed and clothed and let them read and write. In what capacity are you going to do this, Conrad? And how are you going to do it?"

"The workers of Nostramo will not understand the original body, nor will they understand the Eighth Legion and what it represents. They will only regard you as a larger noble, leading a larger gang - That’s all.”

".No, that's not it, Khalil, that's not it."

"Yes, Conrad. And."

Khalil chuckled in a cold voice.

"They'll work hard to join the gang," he said softly. "This is the nature of the Nostramo people that has been shaped by nurture. You can't change it."

"I can." Midnight Ghost hissed. He had raised his head and was looking at Khalil with grievance and disappointment.

The latter just looked at him calmly.

"Can you?" Khalil suppressed all his emotions and asked calmly, almost indifferently.

"I can!" the ghost shouted. "I can change them!"

"You can't do it. You are even talking to me in Nostramo. Go look in the mirror, Conrad, and see the grievances on your face now."

"Your legion has completed the order you issued, and your first reaction after boarding the Night Veil was to come to me. Why are you looking for me? Do you want my approval?"

"You're actually asking me how they're doing. They're your legion, Konrad. They have nothing to do with me, so you don't need to ask me these things."

Khalil stared calmly, stretched out his hand, and wiped away two tears on the face of a giant with his head lowered.

".You are the leader of the Eighth Legion."

he whispered.

"Learn to think for yourself, learn to do everything the way Konrad Kurtz did. You can no longer be a midnight ghost, do you understand?"

"But."

Hissing.

"In High Gothic, remember what I said to you before we got on board?"

"."

silence.

After a moment, Konrad Curze replied in a low voice in High Gothic: "Once on board, don't speak Nostramo."

"So, who are you now?"

"Conrad Coates."

"You are still the master of the Eighth Legion." Kalil smiled slightly and sent the pale giant out of the room. "Go and communicate with your Legion."

Standing at the door, Conrad Coates pursed his lips.

"What about you?" he asked in a low voice.

"I don't belong to your legion."

"But you are"

"What am I?"

"."

"I have no position, Conrad," Khalil said quietly. "I shouldn't have a position either. Do you want an outsider to enter your regiment and become an officer? Don't do that, otherwise you will insult everyone."

"Behind those military ranks are promotions bought with blood, which are proof of their glory. You can't give this glory to me for no reason. I didn't do anything."

Silent, Konrad Coates remained silent, not understanding why things suddenly developed like this. The cold touch in his right wrist remained steady, trying to calm his heartbeat, but to no avail.

".Then, what should I do?"

"Ask yourself, Lord of the Eighth Legion," Khalil said calmly.

He closed the door.

Let’s start with a sneak attack chapter.

Twenty thousand more today.