Serious People, Who is Learning Magic at Marvel?

Vol 18 Chapter 378: Round Table Talks (13, Imperial Blood Fist, Four K)

The center continued.

A voice came out, hoarse and confused, but not old. The primarchs exchanged glances with each other, and they all treated the next thing in silence.

They want to be quiet and listen.

And the Emperor...he just calmly adjusted his breathing. He was methodical, and he even thought about closing his eyes to perceive his results.

He is a psyker, and his lifespan is almost as long as human history, but this does not mean that he can use spells from his friends at will.

In fact, strictly speaking, that spell...has transcended the level of 'spell'.

【I'm alive? 】

[Yes, I'm still alive... Can I still think? I can. 】

【Are you watching? I don't know... My Lord has no answers for me, nor can He see these vague futures. Where did I write...? Ah yes. 】

[Roger Dorn. 】

[Yes, Rogal Dorn... he was spurned by us, cursed by us, and before that, he was a lonely and gloomy member of the Primarchs, even so, he deserves respect. He protected humanity, many humans, that's irrefutable. 】

[My thoughts... are so confused. What shall I write, my lord? I need your enlightenment... what? Ah, yes, I remember, yes, Sherault. The Sheraut Galaxy, a small federation of humans, refuses to accept the integration of the Empire. 】

[Warmaster Horus invited his three brothers, Fulgrim, Konrad Curze, Roger Dorn...they joined forces to attack this world, Sherault was originally impenetrable Immediately, the defensive measures began to be broken one by one. 】

[Only three months later, they surrendered to the empire. Yes, these are all things I want to write down, but, I...]

The projection changes, and a picture suddenly appears. A man in a white robe with a dull expression was sitting at a wooden table in thought. He stared straight ahead, his eyes fixed, and his skin was boiling.

Bones, flesh, nerves...all of these are melting together in his body. But he still maintained the shape of a person, sitting at the table, thinking reasonably rationally.

Then he opened his mouth, revealing the empty gums, which, after half a second, were dusty too. There was nothing in his mouth, full of his own ashes, but he was still able to make a sound.

He stared forward, his unfocused eyes seemed to be looking at all the Primarchs.

Then he spoke.

"...I can't," whispered the dead scribe. "I see them, but I cannot write them down. This is not a book that should have an audience. To whom, my lord, will you show it?"

He listened suspiciously.

"them?"

The scribe was shocked. "Them? Primarchs? No... how?"

He shook his head in an unacceptable way, and with just that, more dust was scattered in the air. Then, he calmed down strangely.

He remembered.

"Yes, I saw..."

The scribe whispered: "I see from your memory, yes, they all exist, they are not my crazy imagination, I am not crazy, I just..."

"I'm just dead, but not crazy, I'm going to get my job done."

A withered smile bloomed on his face, light burst from the seven orifices, his robe and skin turned to ashes, he began to scream, and then, the picture began to change, in front of the empty table, a line of words made of golden light floated up.

[Hello, Primarchs from another world... With the life of Scribe Tanglars, I am able to say hello to you. And what you will see next is that he and I made the same decision at different times. 】

[A truth that we have concealed. 】

The Primarchs looked at each other, and a few looked to the Emperor for an answer, but their father just closed his eyes and shook his head slightly.

"Keep reading," he said. "The truth will come out naturally."

The screen changes again.

Ashes drift like snowflakes in the gloomy sky, and weeping people can be seen everywhere on the streets that have been turned into ruins by bombing. The civilians were crying for their lost relatives, and not far from them was a group of assembled soldiers.

The uniforms they wore lacked the markings of the Imperial Aquila, and all around them were the Astartes of the Imperial Fists.

"You will be executed for your resistance," the leader of the Imperial Fists told the kneeling soldiers.

"But we have already surrendered!"

Their commander yelled, and in the next second, a sword pierced his chest and lifted him high. The instigator even started to shake his wrist cruelly, making him scream.

"that's not important."

The Imperial Fist replied indifferently. "You defied the Empire, so you will repay with your lives and leave a lesson for all. Besides you, there are civilians who helped you, so half of them will be executed by lot .”

"You monsters!" A soldier kneeling on the ground yelled. "Empire? Shit empire!"

"Execute him," said the Imperial Fists.

An Astartes behind him immediately raised the bolter in his hand, and then an extremely angry voice exploded above their heads with thunderous fury: "Stop immediately!"

The Imperial Fists looked up, and their eyepieces reflected a giant with a pale face almost like a ghost. He was standing on the top of a ruined fortress. His black armor made him look calm and majestic. expression...

The leader, the Imperial Fist, gestured calmly, signaling everyone to move closer to him.

In the next second, the giant turned into lightning and disappeared in place. When he was seen again, he was on the ground, right in front of the Astartes. The Imperial Fists are tall enough, but in front of him, they seem to be no different from ordinary people.

"Who told you to do this?!" demanded the giant. "Who told you to kill these unarmed people?!"

"They are enemies, honorable Konrad Curze, the Night Haunter." The commander of the Imperial Fist lowered his head and responded in a muffled voice.

"I asked, who told you to kill these unarmed people?!"

"...they defied the Empire, my lord," said the commander. "And they have to pay for it, we've also shed blood in the war."

"The war is over."

The Night Haunter replied grimly. "They surrendered, just thirty-three minutes ago. The news has spread throughout the Sherault Federation, and their capital has even been turned into flat ground. What else do you want? They are also human!"

"But it was an order from my father Rogal Dorn himself."

The commander of the Imperial Fist took a step back while speaking. He felt an extremely strong threat of death, rising from the depths of his bone marrow, as if someone was stabbing his heart with a dagger, causing him pain.

"......very good."

The Night Haunter nodded, and then, using the comms built into his armor, he issued a few orders to his legion. Only a few minutes later, as many as several hundred Night Lords arrived immediately, and they all stared at the Imperial Fist with eyes full of hostility.

"Protect these prisoners of war, as well as civilians. Their lives already belong to the empire, and no one can take them away. Anyone who violates them will be regarded as a traitor immediately."

The Midnight Haunter ordered so in a voice that everyone could hear, and then he looked down at the Imperial Fist.

"Take me to Roger Dorn."

The picture changed again—when the projection that fluctuated like water was clear, the picture had come from the ruined street to an open-air command post, where two giants were having a fierce quarrel.

"Why did you give that **** order?!"

"They defied us, that's why, Curz. I don't understand your anger. Isn't that a common thing? I've done it many times."

"you......!"

Midnight Haunted took a deep breath and calmed down.

During the Great Expedition, the major legions fought on their own, and it was the first time that the three legions joined forces like this. Although he had heard that the style of the Imperial Fists was becoming more and more reckless, he never thought that it would become like this.

He needs a reason.

"They defied us because we waged a war against them. Our purpose is noble, but you cannot ask them to understand. To them, we are just a bunch of greedy aggressors."

"But they used weapons and we shed blood."

"That's because of the war! The war we started! And now, the war is over, Rogal Dorn! You should really go to the scene to see the blood gum created by your legion, and to see the dead! Among them Nobody holds a weapon, they die unarmed!"

The Midnight Haunter was deeply angered by Roger Dorn's indifferent attitude. With his black hair fluttering, two blushes appeared on his pale face, and the excessive anger made his death-like complexion also fade away. Variety.

"But they are enemies!" Donne also growled. "I can't believe you're arguing with me over something like this!"

"The enemy?! They surrendered, Rogg Dorn, the war is over! We can't do such atrocities, they are human!"

"The war never ends!"

Dorn unmistakably swung his arm down, firmly and swiftly. Anger lingered on his face, and there was also a kind of anger after not being understood.

"In this galaxy, there are countless threats waiting! Our war will never end, we must make an example and a lesson to everyone who tries to resist us! The empire must survive in this way, otherwise there is no way to unify the galaxy ?!"

"So that's your purpose?"

Midnight Haunting sneered: "You are only angry because of their resistance, Rogue Dorn. This is the reason, don't whitewash it as if your purpose is extremely noble. You regard yourself as a ruler, Do you think you can lead mortals?"

"Isn't it? They are just mortals! They must know their place in the empire. You can't cater to mortals in everything. We see farther than them and have greater power, so we have to bear more Responsibility! What are they without us?"

"Without them, what are we?!" Midnight Haunted growled and clenched his fists. "You got the fundamental relationship wrong!"

"You made a mistake."

All of Dawn's anger disappeared, leaving only a face as calm as water.

"Stop pretending to be a hero, Conrad Coates. You're not, and neither am I. We all owe a blood debt in war, and we can't pay it back. We just have to keep going, keep killing. Only In this way, all threats that shake the foundation of the empire can be eliminated."

"you......"

The words of Midnight Haunting could not be uttered, and he began to breathe hard, as if he was being strangled by someone in pain. His eyes rolled up, and in an instant, only the whites of his eyes remained, hissing airflow and small sounds were spit out from his throat.

His situation made Rogal Dorn come over in confusion and shock. The Primarch of the Imperial Fist just regarded it as a quarrel, and he never thought of killing Konrad Curze.

He thought so, but not his brother.

"you!"

In just a split second, Midnight Haunter's expression became a complex expression of panic and excessive anger, and even a little bit of the urge to vomit.

"You!" He growled in fear, and then grabbed Don's shoulder. "You! No! How can you—"

"What?" Dorn tried to resist suspiciously, he didn't like being treated like this. But his actions caused a bloodbath.

The Night Haunter pierced Dorne's chest and abdomen with the sharp claws of his right hand, and then punched and kicked violently, each one rushing to kill the man.

All of this happened so fast and so suddenly that the Imperial Fists not far away didn't even react at all. While trying to carry out this murder, Midnight Haunted's face was full of pain and disbelief, he was even crying, with blood and tears in his eyes.

—If it weren't for a giant rushing from not far away, there is no doubt that Rogal Dorn's life would end at this moment~www.novelmt.com~ That person is Fulgrim.

He separated his brothers, and his movements were considered extremely fast, but in such a short ten seconds, Midnight Haunt almost killed Dorne. The latter was seriously injured, and blood flowed from his body like a river.

"what happened?!"

The Primarch of the Emperor's Children pinned the Night Haunter to one side of the wall, and the Imperial Fists quickly took their Primarch away, and the hatred began to spread silently. Fulgrim asked in disbelief: "Are you trying to kill him? Conrad, are you crazy?!"

"No, I'm not crazy, Fulgrim."

The midnight ghost stopped struggling wearily, he was no longer in pain, but it was just a disguise, his heart was crying blood.

He leaned against the wall and lowered his head.

"...I just saw his future."

Projection ends here.

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