Serious People, Who is Learning Magic at Marvel?

Vol 18 Chapter 384: round table talks

Mortarion had never fought such a tough battle—he could have sworn it to anyone, no.

Before today, he never knew that he could withstand such an astonishing blow.

Now, standing in front of the Witch King, three fingers on his left hand could no longer move because of severed tendons. He could feel his ribs snapping, and they hurt every time he took a breath.

His eyes were dizzy, and everything he looked at was foggy. This may be because of a psionic attack three minutes ago.

The Witch-King was patient, and he took his chances slowly, unleashing each hex to make sure it had an effect on Mortarion.

Now, the young Primarch had been burned by fire and struck by lightning, he didn't know what would be next, but he thought he could still fight.

And, he had to fight.

Panting, he stood up straight, his right hand stretched out like lightning, and grabbed the witch king's sickle. His own weapon had been shattered long ago, and now, the weapon he relied on was his own body.

His bones could rival the Witch King's scythe in hardness, but pain was unavoidable. Mortarion let out a groan as the blade sliced ​​through his flesh and lodged in his bone, causing a tremor.

The instigator sneered and backed away, all the way back into the darkness. Its caution is almost disturbing. It doesn't really fight the Primarch at all, it just uses various tricks to consume him.

"You really think you can win?" it asked disdainfully. "Son of Death, it is not too late to throw in the towel and kneel."

"lie."

Mortarion clutched his right hand, looking warily at the darkness around him. He must concentrate all the time, the consequence of distraction is death, and he cannot die.

At least not at this moment.

"I never lie."

The Witch King's voice echoed in the darkness, too heavy and too terrifying. Its psychic spirit keeps the temperature so chillingly low that even Mortarion can feel the chill.

"No, you're a liar, you monster."

"You are slandering the master of death, Mortarion. You don't know anything about me. You don't know how much effort it took me to stand out from the group of low-level creatures to have my current life form. And you, You've got everything I've ever dreamed of just by growing up..."

The Witch King didn't hide his jealousy. It seemed to have started a long-winded speech without tactics, but both it and Mortarion knew that time would only tilt the balance of victory towards the Witch King. .

Time does not favor the Primarch, and his injuries also do not allow him to delay for too long.

"So you used to be a human? That is, you used to have a name?"

asked the Primarch, while racking his brains trying to come up with a possible winning plan in his own mind. He dug deep within himself, trying to find the knowledge he needed. Then, in a certain corner, he found a surprise.

Or rather, surprise.

frightened.

His breathing began to change slightly, but the Witch King didn't notice this. He was immersed in the joy of winning, so he began to talk nonsense. It had even begun to think about what would happen after the victory, and it had plenty of consideration for Mortarion's body.

With the flesh and blood of a Primarch, it is even able to take a step further in its current life form.

"Trying to stall for time...stupid, I taught you about war and combat, can't you see your wounds now? I shouldn't have raised you, I should have treated you as a Test subject, Mortarion. Your blood means more to me than your life."

"So, you just want power...?" the Primarch said with difficulty, blood frothing from the corners of his mouth.

"Power represents everything!" the Witch King roared.

"You won't understand, you are born with extraordinary power! Tell me, which one of those humans at the foot of the mountain can kill the monster I created with a wave like you? And which one can be killed by me? Still standing after attacking the brain with psychic energy? You are seriously injured and dying, but you can still kill me with one blow!"

It roared angrily, full of resentment and hatred, but it didn't know who it was directed at.

"When I was a human being, it took my strength to live. I don't want to roll in the mud like them, and run away when I'm robbed. That's not what I was born for! I should be nobler than them all !"

"Your work... makes me feel ridiculous..."

Mortarion bent over, panting. There was a light in his eyes, a deep green light, like a well of rot, or the diseased eye of a dead man.

The light made the Witch King pause.

"What?" it asked in disbelief. "What's this?"

"I have no idea......"

the primarch said with difficulty. His hearing began to fade, and everything else fell away, sharp and distorted, and then another voice broke into his mind. It was like thunder.

accept it.

Thunder rolls.

Accept it, and you'll survive, and you'll win this victory, and more.

Thunder and lightning exploded in his mind, and dark green flames burned wildly, sweeping across the land ravaged by lightning.

This power...is yours, Mortarion, accept it, use it...take the crown and become Lord of the Dead!

Between the trance and the pain, it seemed as if something was whispering to him. Behind the dark curtain, she promised victory and rewards to Mortarion, and even let the illusion sweep over her.

The Primarch saw the scene after his victory, saw every sorcerous overlord on Barbarus easily killed by him, the people lived in peace, and he became the only true king here...

He can be nobler than anyone, stronger than anyone.

but why?

The question flashed through Primarch Lake's consciousness: Why should I be nobler than others? I'm only human, I don't need those powers...

Something growled angrily from behind the curtain, and the illusion changed. The overlords still ruled Barbarus, and under their rule, the people suffered unspeakably, the people lived in dire straits, and everyone would rather die than live.

This is the consequence of your refusal! You can't win!

The face of the Witch King flashed in front of him, and the two dots of green flames lit up in the darkness frenziedly bloomed: and I will **** your blood, devour your flesh, and bring suffering to everyone!

The Primarch looked into its eyes, and for a moment the line between reality and fiction was blurred.

In reality, the Witch King had already swept towards him with terrifying power. It didn't know what tricks Mortarion was playing, but it was already determined to take a risk.

In the light in the Primarch's eyes, it tasted fear, which made it humiliated. There was no trace of humanity in its eyes, only greed for his flesh.

And in the illusion, the eyes of the Witch King are the same, only the greed for his body, nothing else.

"No."

The primarch whispered, then raised his right hand, grabbed the head of the Witch King, and snatched its scythe away.

The nirvana strike fell in an instant, and the spiritual shield could not block the attack of this weapon. The head of the Witch King flew high, and the darkness covering it dissipated, and the true face underneath was extremely dry , It turned out to be no different from an old man.

The headless body of the Witch King lay down slowly, and then disappeared like fly ash.

Mortarion still stood, strength welling up in his marrow, not promised but his own.

It has been silent for a long time, and has been waiting for the power he awakened since birth.

They surged from every cell, quickly repairing his injuries. The Primarch, for some reason, was just tired.

"No." he repeated, looking into the empty hall. "I'm not a king."

-----------------

"amazing!"

Leman Russ cheered, his right hand hung down to his chest, as loud as a drum beating: "He did it! He did it with his own strength! Listen to the declaration, I am not a king!"

The wolf king smiled, without the slightest awareness that he was also a king. At this moment, his happiness was clear without any impurities, a kind of pure happiness.

"It's unbelievable...that voice...he said no?!"

Magnus' voice trembled in response, and it was the first time since his return that he had spoken so loudly in front of his brothers.

"How did he do it? He was seriously injured and dying, and he didn't know anything about the evil god. He should have regarded this as his own hallucination!"

"Willpower."

Khan said seriously.

"Our otherworldly brother possessed a formidable willpower that was fueled by every difficulty he faced... He won as a human, he didn't just defeat the alien , he even defeated Nurgle."

"How do you feel, Mortarion?" Curze asked.

The Lord of the Night didn't laugh or joke this time. The way he asked the question was quite calm, even a little startling. Put your hands together and form a tower, covering the tip of your nose...

Corax frowned violently, becoming more and more familiar with this posture, and even felt a strange sense of confusion: "Are you imitating him?"

"...I'm not talking to you, crow." Curz waved his hand impatiently.

"I have nothing to say," Mortarion replied dryly.

"Really?" Curz asked eagerly. "You seem to have a million words in your heart, brother, hurry up and say it."

"I don't have anything to say." Mortarion repeated, and then pressed the dagger tightly to his neck. The terrified gesture made Vulkan's expression indescribable.

The Lord of Fire Dragon sighed and stretched out his hand. His extraordinary wingspan made it easy for him to touch Mortarion's wrist. With a little force, he pulled the blade away from his brother's neck.

"Although I don't understand how you feel right now, Mortarion, you don't have to think that you should commit suicide just because of this..."

Vulcan spread out his right hand tactfully, while his left hand was still on Mortarion's wrist: "Seriously, it's not necessary, is it?"

"...I was just thinking."

"Put the short knife to your neck when you think, okay, write it down, brothers. This is the only philosophical thought given by our brothers from Barbarus after we have known each other for so long!"

Curz raised his arms and shouted, Sanguinius sighed and disappeared into light, and when he appeared next time, he had already arrived behind Curz. The Lord of the Night raised his head, just in time to see the Archangel looking down at him with a blank expression on his face.

"Well?"

"Father, I'm going to take Conrad out of the seat for a moment, please pause the projection for five minutes. Brothers, please forgive my behavior, but, I will be back soon."

Sanguinius finished speaking expressionlessly, then grabbed Conrad Curz by the shoulder and dragged him out abruptly.

"I hope this time, he won't come back again." Roger Dorn said quietly.

"Why, you don't want him to sit?" Perturabo actually questioned Curz at this moment. "You are such a person, Rogue Dorn?"

Dawn looked back blankly, and Perturabo sneered and stared at him from a distance. Neither of them spoke, but their eyes were so cold that they could kill.

The Jinyan envoy covered his forehead, and cast a puzzled look at Angron: Have they always been like this?

The Lord of Red Sand curled his lips and didn't say anything, but he seemed to have said everything.

Horus coughed, temporarily drawing the Primarch's attention to him.

He said, "Okay, okay. Now that Conrad has left his seat, I think it's time for us to restore the atmosphere of the meeting. Serious and serious discussion is what we should have, not— Perturabo, can you hear me?"

The Iron Lord looked into Dawn's eyes expressionlessly and replied, "I'm listening."

"...you didn't even look at me."

"Who says you have to look at you to listen? My ears don't have sight."

The Wolf God took a painful deep breath, and then a second time.

"...Okay, back to the topic. Mortarion, your chapter is just beginning now, so we should be going on for quite a while...brother, if you don't feel right If so, please stop at any time."

"I'm fine." The Lord of Death said very quickly, Vulkan had already let go of his hand at this time, so he stuck the knife to his neck again, looking extremely weird.

Fulgrim shook his head calmly and slightly.

At this very moment, he missed someone very much - thinking of this, he looked back at the Emperor. Unsurprisingly, they saw their father flipping through the books with frowning eyebrows. UU read www.uukanshu.com very seriously and solemnly, as if he had walked into the wrong place.

Father... At this time, you actually chose to study?

Phoenix felt extremely absurd, he turned around with a sigh, and wanted to say something, but the center responded to Horus' words.

"I have an abbreviated mode." It said mechanically. "The first round table—you weren't there yet, Horus Lupekar. That time, it was in abbreviated mode."

"So, we're in detailed mode now?" Lion asked slowly.

"You can call it that."

"If it comes to me, please be sure to use the specific mode." He will bite the word "must" very hard.

"...Please use the simplified mode directly, Center."

At this moment, Mortarion finally seemed to have a reaction other than a blank expression. He sighed and said, "I don't want to watch any more things on Babarus, and why didn't you say this sooner?" What's up?"

"No one asked me. As an intelligence-hate, my programming is very rigid. For example, if I handle government affairs for Robert Guilliman, if he doesn't stop, I have to waste these precious computing power all the time—no , I mean, used for insignificant things."

There was a moment of silence in the conference room, and then Ruth said softly, "Did it just say something insignificant?"

"I'm sure I've heard the word waste." Chagatai nodded solemnly.

"Robert, how can you push your work to the center?" Horus asked disappointedly.

The regent of the empire didn't say anything, just took a deep breath, then grabbed his personal terminal, clicked on the page dealing with government affairs, and his expression was very gloomy.

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