Chapter 1034 388. Roundtable Talk (Twenty-three, 5k)

Author: Cut the wallpaper with a knife

The meeting started again.

No, seriously, how many more times do you have to do this, stop halfway, adjust your mindset, and then come back to face the almost unbearable stuff?

Sanguinius had no answer. He didn't know how many more times this would happen, just as he didn't know when the enemies from outside the world would come. From this point of view, the main content of this meeting was as terrifying as those enemies.

He looked around and saw the only thing in common among the faces that were either calm or blank - uneasiness.

No one knows what will happen next, except Angron and Lorgar. But even they are uneasy. This kind of anxiety is wonderful. You know clearly that the future will not be any better, but

Still have to face it.

Maybe this is the meaning of courage.

"Then, do you want me to continue to tell the story?" asked the Golden Word Messenger.

"Actually," Mortarion said slowly. "In addition to these things, I want to know another thing."

He looked towards the Emperor.

"Does all this really mean anything?" the Lord of Death asked in a low voice.

"I don't see how these things might help us. You said we were going to be involved in an apocalyptic war where everyone would die. If that were true, I would accept my death. But all this and

What does that fight have to do with anything? They are our opposites, what we could be, don’t want to be, or dream of being – so what? Father?”

This was the first time since his return that he called the Emperor his father.

"Perhaps I am too stupid to see the meaning of all this. Or perhaps, all this has no meaning at all." Mortarion closed his eyes and said.

"The trap created by nihilism is eating you up, brother."

Chagatai commented quietly, with a calm expression. He seemed to have regained his composure again.

"In the final analysis, you are just upset because of the foreseeable misfortune in that story. Please correct your attitude. You are just a bystander. This is not your story. So no matter what, we have to finish it. Just like

What Angron said is a heroic epic."

"But he's dead!"

Mortarion seemed to be irritated. This was not the first time he had confronted Khan, but it was the first time he had spoken to Khan. Despite this, his words were equally powerful.

"The dead lose everything!" he shouted sternly. "A person who is much stronger than me will also face misfortune and misfortune, so what's the point of staying strong all the time?!"

"He lost his life, but not everything."

The Chogorian sighed, feeling melancholy at his brother's paranoia at the moment. His sadness was obvious, almost overflowing the surface. Something unexpected happened at this moment, and Mortarion was not made more pity by this pity.

anger.

"Really? So, what did he get? A false honor? Or a name that was sung? What's the use of these things? Even chanting sutras ten thousand times can't bring the dead back!"

"When a man dies, his property is called an inheritance, brother," Chagatai said.

"The dead always leave something to the world. Even if they own nothing, they can make their corpses become nutrients for the natural cycle, let alone a hero. Their names will become words that people inspire each other, and their

The experience will turn into a shining pearl in history, allowing more people to draw spirit from it and move closer to them."

"After this, every person who chants the name of Mortarion and the Death Guard to kill the traitor makes the suffering he and his Legion have experienced have meaning. And you, brother, you question his life.

Meaning, but in my opinion, you are actually sympathizing with him and feeling for the misfortunes he has suffered."

"You are sad about his fate. Your question actually just wants to ask a question. You want to know why even heroes cannot survive. You want to know why you can sit here and listen to his story after doing something wrong. I

Is that right?"

Mortarion did not answer, but someone was applauding - Konrad Curze applauded sincerely and even stood up. But he did not smile. In fact, he looked serious.

The lips are pursed, the arc is downward, the eyebrows are furrowed, and there is approval in the eyes. Just looking at the description, you would not think that this is an expression that Conrad Coates can produce.

The Lord of Crows sitting next to him was not too shocked, and even clapped in agreement, but soon pulled Cozz to sit down.

"I must admit, Chagatai, your comments make it seem unnecessary to continue our meeting."

Sanguinius smiled bitterly: "No matter how it goes in the future, your words provide the best explanation for these things."

"But we still have to continue." Khan was indifferent to the archangel's praise, and his calmness was terrifying. "This is painful, for everyone, but we must go down."

Mortarion still did not speak. His thoughts fell into memories. He began to think about his life, his past, and the events on Barbarus. At the head of the Round Table, the Emperor was also recalling.

The difference is that his memories are not just that simple.

You see, mages all have a few tricks up their sleeves.

——

At first, there was just pure nothingness. Then, little by little, there was light. Slowly blooming, slowly appearing, as if some ancient existence was being awakened. Then more, roughly appearing lines gradually appeared in a few seconds.

It became solidified, colors began to appear, and there was even sound.

Then, the Emperor opened his eyes.

Ah, yes.

He looked at this place with a sense of nostalgia. An ordinary room, an empty test bench, an extinguished forging furnace and empty storage containers all showed the true purpose of this place.

A. Craft room.

He called it this.

A person must always have some kind of craft, pure skill, used for the pursuit of happiness and nothing else.

He had said this to Mortarion, and this was his happy place. It was here that he forged weapons or armor for his sons, and he was filled with joy as he forged them.

And now, in the deepest part of the room, a man was sitting sideways facing him, with his black robe hanging to the floor, sitting leisurely. Half a minute ago, he did not exist.

"I'm glad to see you passed the little test I left behind, old man." The mage greeted with a smile, but did not raise his head. He was playing with a letter opener. The straight lines of the knife seemed to make

He was very interested.

"Did you stay?" The emperor smiled slightly. "You are just a phantom, a personality captured by me."

"But that doesn't stop me from laughing at you."

The mage laughed heartily and seemed to have warmed up in a daze: "However, I do have to admit that you are a genius. You can actually learn the knowledge I left behind to this extent in a few hours."

The emperor's smile faded a little.

"It's not enough," he whispered. "It's not enough to make them break the rules."

"Don't worry, do you remember the destruction?"

"You mean that human?"

"Yes, if nothing else happens, he has now arrived in eternal heaven. Well, but I am not sure. After all, I am just a phantom created by you. I can only infer based on the information you know. So,

If he really has some backhand that you don’t know about, I can’t give a correct conclusion.”

"I hope you really know everything." The emperor sighed. "I have tried that damn spell in my memory more than seven thousand times, but I still can't reproduce it to your level.

.”

"Oh, so that's it."

The mage nodded thoughtfully: "I have to take back the comment I gave you. You are not a genius, old man. You actually cheated by slowing down time in your own memory!"

"But I gained magic through meditation and mastered many spells. According to the mage classification you made, I can obviously be called an official mage now."

"I don't have any rites for you here." The mage rolled his eyes, still sitting on his velvet chair and unwilling to move. "As for that spell, just like I said, don't pay too much attention to it."

"How can I not care?"

"It's very simple, just forget it. Brainwash yourself and forget this matter. There are so many things people forget every day, why not forget this matter too?"

"You know how important that spell is to what we are about to do and I cannot allow it to fail," the Emperor whispered.

The mage shook his head and slowly gestured with the letter opener in his hand: "It's you, only you, old man. I'm already dead. It's hard to say whether that god can survive."

"Can't you make an inference?"

The mage stopped and looked at the emperor steadily without speaking. The barbarians from Eurasia could only smile bitterly: "Okay, okay, I know, you are just an illusion made by me, you can't guess who I am.

Something I don’t even know.”

"Let's get back to the topic." The mage yawned. "Breaking the rules. Ha. You can't even cross the border. No one will look at you twice except the tree man."

The Emperor made no comment, and the mage could only give him a warning look before continuing.

"Don't think they are so kind. There are less than ten human beings in the White Tower, and the Tree Man is only bound by its own rules. It wears a mask, and its identity as a businessman binds it. The next time we meet, it

Maybe I'll wear another mask, like a destroyer or a liar out of interest."

"But what it's doing so far is good for us."

"It's you, only you." The mage emphasized again. "I'm dead, don't forget this, old fool. Also, I remember I told you."

"What?"

"The body, appearance, attitude and even the soul of the cross-border mages are not important to them. They only live to spend their endless lifespan."

The mage shrugged: "You can't expect a group of guys who play live-action large-scale role-playing all day long to really have a bottom line that cannot be broken. Otherwise, why would it imply to you that the rules can be broken?"
To be continued...