Warhammer 40k: Shattered Steel Soul

Ferrus Manus stood behind the finish line of the equestrian competition.

At first, he drank some local beer from Olympia in a makeshift tent.

There is a saying in Medusa that you can't tell which of the two barrels is filled with wine and which is filled with diesel by smelling or tasting; but if someone drinks a few cups and dies the next day, then he is a weak warrior who doesn't deserve to live.

Fortunately, the beer in Olympia does not have that unique taste. The bubbles only bring some numb enjoyment to the sensitive tongue in the most normal way.

When the first batch of contestants in the competition arrived three miles before the finish line, Ferrus Manus walked out of the tent and asked the mortal host to take him to the finish line where the horizontal stripes had been pulled up.

He noticed that the stripes were indeed yellow and black, and even though he was usually serious, he couldn't help but raise the corners of his mouth.

Ferrus stood at the side of the track, with his silver hands behind his back, waiting for the month-long equestrian competition to end, and also for the entire Olympic Games to end perfectly.

He wanted to know where Fulgrim was these days. It seemed that since the conflict between Telemanon Lyras and Thor Sahar, Fulgrim and Conrad Curze had never appeared. Thinking of this, he had a headache.

Soon, the first batch of contestants arrived.

Although there were accompanying personnel to look after the contestants throughout the whole process, under the rules of the competition, the only thing they would do was to ensure the basic human rights of these contestants, such as not encountering casualties. In addition, the exploration route, food and accommodation supplies, travel planning, etc. were all solved by the contestants themselves.

Therefore, the contestants were all in their own embarrassment. Even if we don’t mention other aspects, first of all, most of them didn’t find a chance to take a shower.

The champion was a young man wearing animal skins and a huge predatory cat under him, constantly accelerating towards the finish line. He was covered with thick mud with grass.

When he got closer, Ferrus found that judging from the state of his bones, the young contestant was probably no more than fifteen Terran years old; and the thick animal skin that was newly peeled off from the prey even increased his apparent age.

The young contestant rushed across the finish line excitedly, holding the yellow and black stripes on his chest, and then fell to the grass with his animal due to exhaustion. The escort quickly lifted him out of the grass by his hands and feet, preparing to put him in another place to avoid being accidentally trampled by other contestants.

"Bring him here." Ferrus said aloud, he admired the young winner. However, a teenager was able to defeat hundreds of competitors and win the crown of victory, which deserves recognition.

The champion was ahead of the second place by a long way. Ferrus first wanted to ask which planet in the Olympia cluster the champion represented, and then he verified the backwardness of that planet in some ways, such as finding that the champion could not speak Low Gothic and could hardly use a translator.

"It's... different there," the champion's grammar and wording were still a bit strange even after translation, "We hunt, run around, grill, and drink. We like to compete."

"What reward do you want to ask the Lord of Olympia for?" The Primarch asked while thinking.

"I haven't thought about it," the little contestant still held the yellow and black strip in his left hand, and patted his head with his right hand, and mud fell down piece by piece, "Then, my lord, I want to participate in the Iron Warriors."

Perturabo has a good luck. Ferrus Manus thought.

In the distance, more different and dusty contestants began to approach one by one, decorating the blue skyline of Olympia with colors from different planets.

——

"Have I missed a lot of things?" Horus Lupercal sighed, looking a little listless in the center of the frame of the small screen.

During this month, he tried his best to find time to share his experiences with these brothers who were enjoying their leisure time in Olympia. This made him feel that he was connected to them by blood, and they were all descendants of the Emperor.

In the first thirty years of being alone with the Emperor, he thought he would oppose any external interference in this precious sweet life, and could not imagine that the Emperor would have another child to read books, answer questions, and watch the bright starry sky in the observatory.

When Perturabo, Leman Russ, Magnus and other brothers were able to return to Terra one after another, swore allegiance to the Emperor, and gradually took away his uniqueness from his father, there was indeed a period of time when Horus' heart was filled with unbearable bitterness.

Fortunately, he soon adapted to the presence of other Primarchs and realized how fortunate it was to have brothers who shared the same origin and mind with him in this galaxy of war and killing.

Across from the datapad containing Horus, Magnus and Angron looked at each other.

Under the influence of some kind of common tacit understanding, Angron spread his palms on his knees and said to Horus: "We have also arrived in Olympia for a few hours, Horus. Before that, we also have things related to the Great Expedition to deal with."

He decided not to mention that during this period, the two of them had always been by the Emperor's side to assist in the construction of the Webway.

"It is true," Magnus continued. "We missed almost all of the games, and his warriors took the opportunity to beat my heirs."

After speaking, Magnus turned his gaze to Angron, and glared at Angron through the monocle presented by Perturabo.

"Don't worry, I believe that when Perturabo thinks of holding another large-scale event in a few decades, he will not forget to send you invitations." Horus comforted, "You are of great importance to the Lord of Iron. No need to say anything."

"Oh..." Magnus admitted that he felt unreasonably sorry when facing Horus now.

As the first scion of the Emperor to return to Terra, Horus Luperkar was still unaware of the existence of the Webway due to his personal superiority in conquering the stars.

In addition, he was the one who really missed the sports day, but now he came to comfort him and Angron.

Then Magnus thought of the few Primarchs who were still immersed in the expedition and had not even received a real-time broadcast. In contrast, he quickly forgave himself.

Magnus stood up and lowered his head slightly to prevent himself from hitting the roof of the tent.

Morse's final act is about to begin, and it is said that this time the star will be the Emperor. While he was looking forward to it, he couldn't help but want to question what legend Morse had brazenly tampered with.

He picked up the data tablet and held it in his arms. Angron stood up with him, opened the simple brown and red velvet curtain of the camp, and walked towards Lokos City.

On the way, Horus was inevitably surprised for a moment when he passed the high-rise black tower built overnight on the outskirts of the city by Konrad Curze's strange army.

The Wolf God has not yet seen the Primarch of the Eighth Legion, but the living habits of Konrad Curze he has seen in the data pad these days, as well as his... informal works of art, really impressed Horus. Some unforgettable memories were left behind.

However, Horus was willing to believe that such an eccentric brother was willing to contribute his strength to the Great Crusade and to establish a good relationship with Perturabo, which showed how noble his nature was, hidden behind a cold appearance. How worthy of respect is the personality behind the bloody hobby.

"Okay, Horus," Magnus said, "I've calculated the time and it's time to go to the theater! The Emperor is among the leading actors today!"

——

Curze grabbed the hammer, tossed it several times in his hand, and then put it back on the ground without interest. The hammer's handle leaned against the corner of the table and made a gentle knock.

He continued to circle around the workshop, the steam and smoke sometimes covering his body and sometimes revealing it.

This temporarily attracted Vulkan's attention. The Fire Dragon Lord smiled at Curze and continued to tell the mortal craftsmen around him about his personal experience in forging.

While watching the game and dealing with legion affairs at every moment, Vulkan visited all the blacksmiths and workshops in the city in order to find everything he could do to enrich his life.

At first, the locals were equal parts fear and respect for him. He knew that his appearance was indeed scary, and he didn't mind. Sure enough, after one or two days of communication, whenever he appeared in the workshop, people would hurriedly gather around him to listen to what he was going to say next.

As for the Night Ghost Blood Marquis with an even more formidable temperament, after the second act of the play performed by him ended, the locals' love for him suddenly rose to a new level.

Even though he often disappears and appears like a ghost, most of the locals, except for young and innocent children, are willing to greet him with kindness and curiosity.

This further reduced Konrad Coates' presence in the crowd.

"That's it for today, friends." Vulcan glanced at the sky outside the window, "The closing ceremony will be in the evening."

"Are you leaving after today?" A child brought by a craftsman stuck his head out, carefully stretched out his short finger, and poked the corner of Vulcan's robe. "Can you stay a few more days?"

"Why do you have so much free time, why should you be so lazy and carefree?" Conrad Coates suddenly appeared behind the child, and touched the child's head with his cold fingers, making the child tremble all over.

Curze hummed softly, strolled to Vulkan's side, turned around and leaned against the table.

"You go," he said lazily, "if the heavenly wheel of the universe also shows mercy, our yarns will intertwine again."

After several mortals gathered in the workshop left, the hall, which originally didn't have much open space, actually seemed empty.

The Lord of the Fire Dragon put away the blacksmith's tools he had borrowed, and asked at the same time: "What happened to Fulgrim, Konrad?"

"I look like I know?" Conrad Coates shrugged.

"Yes." Vulkan smiled, understanding that Curze was especially not good at dealing with such an answer.

Sure enough, Cozz seemed to choke for a moment, glanced at him with pure black eyes, and suddenly sighed.

"I only know what troubles he encountered, but I don't know the path he is on now. Although I took some actions in the process, I don't know the pros and cons of my actions. Whether I did a good thing or made a mistake Evil act."

"No matter what, the Emperor and Perturabo himself are by Phoenix's side. I can be sure that things will be better in the world."

——

"Rogal Dorn, how many times do you have to mention Akul Duna before you can confirm that the chief swordsman of the Emperor's Children is lying on the hospital bed with serious injuries and is unconscious, and it is only a miracle that he is alive?"

Mechanical Perturabo said to Roger Dorn, throwing down the hollow iron ball in his hand and putting down the portable homemade laser engraving pen at the same time. Due to the hollow pattern, the iron ball stays firmly on the table without rolling, showing the exquisite and detailed texture on the surface of the sphere.

This is a panoramic miniature craft ornament of the planet Olympia, with a diameter about the length of a mortal hand. Perturabo decided to give it to Callifon before leaving.

Before the last act of the Grand Theater and the closing ceremony, while waiting with Rogal Dorn in the Royal Palace of Lokos, he took out the iron ball and further refined it.

"This is only the second time I've asked a question, Perturabo." Rogal Dorn stated his point of view with his usual attitude, neither smiling nor angry. "If you answer me, I don't need to mention it a third time."

Sometimes Perturabo wondered whether the stone-headed Primarch from Inwett was truly unaware of the abominations he said or did, or whether he just enjoyed being the one who took the initiative to offend others.

Not long ago, he had a chat with Ferrus Manus while exchanging skills, and he learned that the last time this devilish stone had a conflict with Ferus was because Dorn accused Ferus in front of the warriors. Impulsive and bellicose.

"Then, I have answered." Perturabo moved his eyes to the plate of fruit on the table.

After these days of continuous consumption, the food reserves of Planet Olympia and surrounding planets were consumed at an extremely fast rate, and the gene-edited grapes that the Primarchs most often ate were finally the only ones left in front of them.

Thinking that the mechanical body he placed here at this time was not convenient for eating, he generated additional anger. This was probably the emotional impact Rogal Dorn had on him.

"Before I leave Olympia, will Akulduna be able to regain his fighting ability?" Roger Dorn asked the second line on his list of questions.

"Fulgrim is guarding Akul Duna. I don't think that Astartes can return to his original state in just a few days." Perturabo paused, "He lost his temper for the battle. To the last drop of blood - a metaphor, not a literal one."

Rogal Dorn nodded and said the reason: "My templar Sigismund always wanted to have another battle practice with him. He believed that the battle with Akul Duna made him rediscover his personal limits. And I hope that Akulduna can conduct assessment trials for the Haskar Guard to broaden my guards’ horizons and understanding of combat.”

He took a breath and saw that the mechanical Perturabo did not interrupt him, so he continued to talk about the third thing.

"In addition, I am worried about the status of Fulgrim and Akul Duna. Have the Emperor's Children survived the occasional crisis?"

"More than living through it." Perturabo smiled, "How can a phoenix sleep forever in ashes?"

He listened carefully and heard a sound of rallying trumpets ringing from the Lokos Coliseum, and carried by the ringing bells around the city, leisurely and far away on the surface of Olympia.

"The fourth act is coming," he said. "Let's go to the Grand Theater."