Warhammer 40k: Shattered Steel Soul

Chapter 497 The Blade of Lar

Akulduna's silky purple robes were slightly raised on the way to the primarch's trophy room. This mirrored passage with walls like whale ribs was spotless under the cleaning of the servitors, which was a rare sight for the Emperor's Son. The second company commander felt uncomfortable.

Not long ago, they carried out counterinsurgency operations in nearby systems, mainly in a dusty wild world. They were covered in ashes during the battle, and it took the servants a lot of time to remove the mud from the finely carved parts of their armor. Clean out the gaps in the pattern. Regardless, it was a battle that brought victory and honor, and they enjoyed their achievements.

He walked into the showroom, stepped on the fine gold floor engraved with mysterious patterns, and realized that there were a lot of new holographic projections here: One interesting thing is that since Fulgrim replaced his own with steel, After half a face, he picked out many precious collections and threw them into the furnace without any hesitation, watching the gorgeous weapons with their own characteristics being melted into molten iron in the hot fire.

A shrill cry was heard to hiss from the forge as part of the blade burned to the ground. This is a legend among the mortal servants of the Legion, but if it is true, Akulduna would have shown considerable approval for his primarch.

In fact, when he looked at the virtual hard light projection that replaced the real thing, he felt a sense of relief in his heart. The decoration of this showroom is as beautiful as ever - even if it is slightly diminished, but the crisis that once prompted the fifteenth legion's whispered advice is undoubtedly gone.

But what really adds to the beauty of the entire showroom decorated with onyx and lapis lazuli stripes, and makes the beauty here surpass all else, is the gene that is standing in front of the glazed painting screen at this moment, holding a curved sword. The body is Fulgrim, the purple phoenix.

Taiwan Novel Network→𝗍𝗐𝗄𝖺𝗇.𝖼𝗈𝗆

"Father," he called loudly to the tall shadow among the items, "are you calling me?"

Fulgrim turned his head. Compared with the milky white and clean skin, the beauty of his generously exposed half-faced silver mechanical carving mask was almost as beautiful as the innate vitality given to this phoenix by the Emperor when he created a Primarch. The balance between machinery and skin on his body is so perfect, and under the astonishing, fire-like vitality of those bright eyes, they have reached a shining and bright unity.

In addition to those eyes, his silver-white waterfall-like long hair and purple robe woven with fine silk threads are all part of the dazzling beauty, but they are not worth mentioning.

"Akulduna, I did call you." Phoenix smiled brightly. His smile was so bright. Fortunately, the Second Company Commander had long been used to it.

The Primarch turned the silver sword in his hand, held the amethyst-encrusted end in the palm of his hand on the metal side, and showed it to his chief swordsman, so that the latter could observe its shape and forging techniques.

"Plunder taken from the Lars, father?"

"That's right. Today I was checking my locker and saw it again by chance - it's so weird! Such a mysterious and alluring sword was inserted into the black stone scabbard of the temple. I should have destroyed it right away. I don't know why I didn't destroy it, but brought it here... Oh, come with me to the forge, Ah. Kulduna, be careful I don’t save it halfway.”

Fulgrim said angrily, closed his eyes, wrapped the sword in black linen, and then opened his eyes again.

"Come with me, I don't want to continue to waste time on this sword," Fulgrim's tone added a hint of sharpness, "We still have to spend time finding the way to Chemos, or find Feil first. The location of Russ. The darkness and loss of the subspace have thrown us across the galaxy. We have been searching for several months, but unfortunately we have found nothing. Although that warning was given to me, I have not found it. We have to take into account the situation that Ferus may encounter.”

The swordsman remembered that Lord Fulgrim seemed to have received a message a day ago, and that the original body hurried to the showroom after that - a warning and persuasion from another legion, even if that legion was in the subspace storm. While spreading, the information was delivered to them through twists and turns through unknown secret roads, which is still a secret deep in the middle of the night.

"Please give the sword to me, father. If something happens to you with the sword, I will not be able to resist you, so only I can carry this vicious blade."

Akulduna said proactively, with a smile on his lips, and decisively raised his hands to Fulgrim to take the wide, curved long blade that was also a two-handed sword for the original body.

Fulgrim nodded without moving his hands, still looking at Akulduna: "I will give it to you, don't let it go."

Akul Duna savored these words word by word in his heart, and then he suddenly stepped forward, snatched the silver sword from Fulgrim's hand, held it in his arms, and pointed it at the stunned Gene. Father smiled: "Don't be reluctant, Father."

Fulgrim came back to his senses, raised the half of his eyebrows that he could still raise, and patted the warrior on the shoulder with a smile: "Thank you very much."

They said hello to the Lord Commander Vespasian who they met on the road. This was the last Astartes warrior they met along the way. During the days when warp storms obscured the way forward, the entire fleet drifted slowly in the silent deep space, and the rhythm of life and battle of the Emperor's Children inevitably slowed down.

In any case, perhaps this cannot be regarded as slacking off - any group that needs to use subspace to stir up troubles may not be able to make trouble in such weather... However, for those who are already in possible danger, wait and see What about the planet being aided? They are powerless and blind and ignorant...

For those far-off worlds of shining steel...flanged pipes and rigid scaly sculptures flowing with oil and inorganic liquids...sunlight filtered through clouds of complex and pungent chemicals, turning into a viscous And the purple gauze...

"...Throw the sword in." A distant voice came from an extremely difficult to determine direction. Something in his spiritual world was quietly shaken, but it was not enough to make him let go.

Oh, such a blasphemous and evil place, flourishing and taking shape somewhere in the real universe, polluting a planet into an obscene pus-yellow color... Some shining things faintly emerged in the dark and crawling corners. , the scaly creatures weaved a crumbling window, the bright and ever-changing purple-blue fireworks swayed with dazzling light, and lifted up the silent flowing mist from the bizarre, constantly fractal and pieced-together building-block-like towers...

"Throw it away!" The voice got closer and closer, with a hint of shock and anger hidden behind the calm command.

Then there were some crisp sounds of collision, silver colliding with iron, his wrists were shocked and painful, and there were strange, blank interruptions and pauses, and the illusions in his mind were violently tumbling. Whirling, all the milky white steam was stirred into a bright red ball of paint. Sometimes he felt that he was standing there numbly and ignorantly, peeling himself out of his existing body, and watching what noble person he was interacting with. There is a struggle.

His lips trembled, as if he wanted to curse, and he waited - witchcraft lightning flashed across the gloomy twilight, the clouds fell downwards and cast iron filings, and the fragments flooded the earth covered with viscous liquid with iridescence, Like petals rotting in the liquid... His fingers were numb until a trace of fiery grace burned onto his fingers. He subconsciously let go of his hand, and there was a whining sound in the air, and the thing in his hand fell downwards... …

He followed him away, and the temperature under his body suddenly became so hot, as if the blazing fire had licked his toes... He was pulled, and a sick feeling of nausea came over him. He bowed and spit out a mouthful of bile... …

"Thank you, father." He retched and looked at the hot molten iron in the furnace under his feet with lingering fear. With Fulgrim's traction and assistance, the swordsman rolled back into the guardrail and held on to the long bridge above the forge. Fence, gasping violently. More than thirty meters below them, there was tumbling molten metal, and the Blade of Lar had fallen into the depths of the molten iron without making even a single extra sound.

In Fulgrim's slightly angry bright eyes, Akulduna somehow confirmed that the evil and strange knife had undoubtedly been completely burned. He then realized that he had a lot of temporary blood marks on his body. Even if the battle master with whom he was fighting swordsman restrained the power and skill of each of his strikes, it was still unrealistic for Akulduna to remain unscathed.

Fulgrim threw down the steel bar that he had temporarily broken off from the railing. After thinking about it, he kicked the steel bar with several sharp sword marks into the furnace below, and fell to Akulduna without any force. Before falling to the ground, she hugged his shoulders.

"There is always something that is intent on harming our destiny." Purple-clothed Phoenix whispered majestically, the flames of the furnace outlined the outline of his sparkling face.

A strange flame disappeared from his palm without a trace - as if the holy fire had been ignited in his depths since that long-ago Olympian day.

Then, he lowered his head and said comfortingly: "I hope your soul feels good, Akulduna, otherwise we really can't contact the think tank of Thousand Dust Sun right now, and the same goes for Rune Priest or Storm Prophet."

"I think it's okay," Akulduna paused, carefully observing his own state, from body to mind, and then repeated, "I think it is true, father. If you are worried, please hold me temporarily, So that there are no traces of deception left in my body.”

"No need, you can just stay with me for the time being. What kind of detention can be safer than the original body's personal supervision?" Fulgrim smiled and noticed that Akulduna was still in a With a thoughtful expression on his face, he smiled, "What else have you discovered?"

"I think I saw a world in panic," Akulduna analyzed the visions he saw. Some of the traces that still existed became clearer and clearer, outlining an astonishing outline of a skeleton that frightened him. He frowned and analyzed it carefully, until Fulgrim's hot palm tightened even more, awakening his memories.

"Medusa." Akulduna said solemnly, taking a gentle step away from Fulgrim's palm and saluting Fulgrim as a warrior, "In the illusion, I saw a beetle. Sleepy planet, that’s Medusa.”

Fulgrim's expression was frozen in urgent thought.

"The darkness of the Warp..." murmured the Primarch.

"It will disperse," Akulduna said. "Are we going to Medusa then?"

"Without a doubt." Purple Phoenix replied coldly.

——

How should he speak when he faced Callifon again?

Perturabo looked at the snow-capped mountains in the distance, and the lush forest that became increasingly green along the ridgeline. In the valley surrounded by mountains, there is a golden and white city.

She has the strongest defensive fortress in the entire galaxy, and because of her low profile, she is barely hidden in the gaps between the pages of the history books being written by the Memoir Court.

However, no one would doubt that this is a rare dream city-state in the entire galaxy filled with laughter and melodious music... Just as no one would doubt that the huge military factories and orbital shipyards on the other side of Olympia will devour countless steel every year and spit out one after another of shells and huge ships with arms loaded in their bellies.

This is Lokos in Olympia, the home of the Iron Warriors.

"You are back, my primarch," the figure of Queen Kaliphon was presented to the Iron Warriors through the transmission of the communication line and the enhancement of the optical screen.

Although more than ten years have passed, compared with the last meeting, Kaliphon has not aged much. Her hair is shiny and flowing, her eyes are as bright as before, and some gentle marks still carve her natural face, adding a touch of soft brilliance.

In the long years, long enough for a planet's governor to rotate for ten generations, Calliphon and Perturabo became living statues of the Olympia cluster: a set of unshakable symbols, a living guarantee of a stable and peaceful life.

Calliphon's dewy eyes fell on Perturabo's face, and gradually fell silent.

"What happened, Abo?" she asked softly.

"Let's talk in person." Perturabo said, without a trace of extra expression on his face, "I will explain everything to you, Calliphon. I must thank you for keeping Olympia standing until today. This is an extremely great project. And I must also tell you that I will ask Olympia for a more powerful legion, and even a potential war - once the war is ignited, it will no longer be controlled by the igniter."

Calliphon looked at him calmly: "Then come, Abo. All these changes are brought to Olympia by your wisdom. No matter what you will do, I believe Olympia will be proud of you... Come, let us hear your voice with our own ears."