Warhammer 40k: Shattered Steel Soul

"Lord, I would rather others see you without believing in you, than believe in you and not be able to find you." - "The Book of Lorgar"

Mors guessed the Legion to which the Word Bearers' Astartes belonged before he even spoke his answer.

After all, after the Emperor burned the last cathedral, there would be no second Legion of Astartes still speaking those ancient words.

Morse did not deliberately collect information about the Seventeenth Legion, but in the eyes of Malcador, this unique legion was too important to ignore, so that the imperial prime minister often carried out worries based only on experience. The military reports sent back by the agents and the Word Bearers themselves were crossed with each other, and then the compared manuscripts were sent to Morse, hoping to get more clear suggestions and guidance.

To this, Morse usually has only one answer: Dear Lord Malcador, before the Emperor personally denounces or recognizes the Word Bearers, what extra trespasses do you expect me, a humble and humble rural craftsman from a remote galaxy, to do? thing?

+I hope you have someone available to fill your current position. +

Morse said, not with his tongue, but letting his voice alone echo in the Word Bearer Brother's mind.

+ Come with us and tell us about your hospital. +

The monk's deep purple eyes similar to his genetic father were widened, as if he had understood something, and his face was slightly lit by the fire of passion. After speaking a few short words of Colchis to his battle brothers in the sound array, he stood up with a face full of glory.

"Please," he said softly in Gothic, looking longingly at the two people whose identities he did not know and bowed deeply, "two respectable adults, please follow me on the escalator of the tower. Walking. We save the elevator for mere mortals who can’t walk long stairs.”

Perturabo took a step slowly, then reluctantly nodded, and said with that unyielding calm expression: "We are not gods or demigods as you say, and we don't need such respect, warrior."

The monk was unmoved and just showed a humble and strange smile: "Yes, sir, we have always understood."

clear?

Perturabo endured and endured, swallowing his doubts. He didn't want to openly accuse the other party in the hall of the charity hospital built by the Word Bearers, otherwise he would be on the same level as Rogal Dorn.

The corridors of this tower were originally filled with dust and debris and were unused. After the hive city law enforcement gave up searching deep into the floors, some homeless people began to take root in the shadows of various residential towers. However, this residential tower in the center of the city, which is often provided to people with wealth or status, is an exception, and therefore Stayed relatively clean.

After the Word Bearers arrived, the corridor was further cleaned to ensure that it could meet the basic conditions of a medical clinic.

They walked along the corridor, and from time to time, some Astartes with cuneiform tattoos on their skin ran past quickly, holding some medical kits, or simply dressed like priests. Judging from the size and shape, these combination packages are exactly the packages carried by the drones that had previously flown overhead.

Every Astartes warrior passing by Perturabo would first be suddenly enlightened, then full of reverence, then recite two pious verses, and then leave happily with a blushing face.

Perturabo pretended not to notice.

"After discussions with the company, we used the first to tenth floors as a place to diagnose diseases, and the eleventh to thirtieth floors to care for patients whose illnesses are not urgent," the monk said. Mentioning these things made him a little worried, rubbing his fingers Holding his Holy Eagle Medal, "Such as headaches, various conditions of weakness, mild inflammation, trauma, digestive system problems, etc."

"The thirty-first floor is our kitchen. There are not many food sources here, and it is difficult for us to care about everyone's eating habits. We can only cook some average-tasting food..."

"On the 32nd to 45th floors, we focus on treating burns. There are some factories where these accidents are prone to occur..."

Morse and Perturabo alternately asked the monks some questions, mainly about the charity hospital they opened here, such as their supplies, manpower, hygiene issues, time, returns, etc.

Their manpower consists mainly of the Word Bearers Astartes themselves when not at war, their own legion of mortal auxiliaries, and finally the few Watchers in Hive Terra itself who are willing to obey their commands.

"We use our hands to draw the heads, wings, and talons of the eagle on the forehead and chest of the watcher, and then put a little salt in the mouth of the watcher," Brother Astartes happily mentioned this. "Many patients, or people who are not patients, come to us voluntarily, hoping to be baptized after they have come out of the shadow of death or seen the effects of healing."

"What if they don't want to?" Morse asked.

The monk was stunned for a moment. Perturabo stood aside, clearing his broad body so that the two Astartes carrying the stretcher could quickly run past him.

“For us, the Muristan Order, this does not matter, it simply means that water has not yet welled up in their hearts, the light in their souls, and the food of their souls have not yet been discovered, not that they have turned their backs on Him.

"They will naturally come to serve Him when He deems it necessary, and then they will be sad if someone forbids them from following it, and they will be angry if someone takes away the truth from their eyes. They will I cried out to myself: No, I am willing to accept the condemnation I received for my past mistakes.”

"What about the Harhabat Order?" Morse asked.

"Do you know them too?" Brother Astartes sighed, the joy he felt at seeing the existence of the demigods in his mind quickly fading amidst the piles of guilt and dissatisfaction. His face became a faded parchment.

"Introduce them to me, warrior," Perturabo said, deciding to read more about the Word Bearers when he returned.

Since it was Horus Luperkar who first found Lorgar Aurelion in the Pacific Star Territory, in addition to maintaining good relationships with almost all active legions, the Word Bearers have always been on good terms with the Luna Wolves. They are closer and understand each other better.

There are not many battles in the galaxy. The Luna Wolves and Iron Warriors need to be dispatched together without causing a waste of military power. In addition to some war arrangements, Perturabo has actually never met Lorgar in person. The understanding of his legion is also very limited.

The monk nodded obediently and worriedly.

"Under the watchful eye of Urizen, we have formed many religious orders, but in the end there are only two main religious orders left, one is our Muristan and the other is Harhabat."

"'He said, To everyone who has, more will be given; but whoever does not have, even what he has will be taken away. But those enemies who do not want him to be king over them, bring them here and kill them before him.'[ 1] For He has said that our genetic fathers will bring destruction upon anyone who disbelieves, if they will.”

"Actually, we shouldn't blame them," the monk sighed, "because many of the supplies we provide for mortals come from the plunder carried out by Harhabat; from this standpoint, how unworthy we are before Him. True and insincere?”

Through the corridor entrance, Morse could see the mortals on the current floor who were being treated by the Astartes. Even within the 18th Legion Salamanders, it is difficult to see such a scene.

Outside of battle, many Legions have different hobbies. For example, the Iron Warriors are keen on construction and design, the Thousand Dust Sun produces tens of thousands of research reports and articles every year, and the Emperor's Children have always been famous for their artistic works - recently they have emerged. A trend of steel ornaments, creating many paintings based on silver steel.

As for the Muristan Order, their interest probably lies in sparing no effort to invest their non-military materials in good deeds for Him.

"Objectively speaking, the efficiency of your expedition is probably improved by the Harhabite Order," Morse said, looking back. The efficiency of the Word Bearers in the Great Crusade even amazed Malcador. As for the number of dead souls created by the Skyfire several times more than those created by other legions, at least the Emperor himself did not mind.

The monk was even more ashamed, his face turned red, and he silently recited some prayers mixed in High Gothic and Colchis, such as "the only great one", "out of his eyes", "in the kingdom of heaven" and so on words to soothe his conscience.

The Emperor's attitude has always been clear, the victory of the Great Crusade is above all others, which is almost a condemnation for the Muristan Order, leaving them to read more of the Imperial Truth and the Book of Sacred Scriptures that accompanied Lorgar's birth. , find more scriptures that conform to their concepts, and conduct corresponding interpretations.

There are only a few floors left from the top of the residential tower. Since it is Perturabo's private reservation, the top floor is separated from the entire residential tower by an unlocked iron door, which requires Perturabo's own data line connection to open. .

Ever since being reminded of the unreliability of genes by Konrad Curze at Olympia, Perturabo had a large number of doors modified to this design.

"We have reached the top of the Long Stairs," the monk said reverently, "and above is a place that does not belong to us, my lord."

Perturabo touched his hair and connected a pipe to the data board. The iron door opened with a buzzing sound.

"Goodbye, warrior." The Iron Lord turned around and said.

Morse laughed and floated gently into the door. The door was closed before he saw the stunned monk who didn't know what was thinking in his mind and quickly arranged his robes to kneel down.

Inside the door is another place similar in style to Olympia's workshop. It seems that Perturabo intends to let his small hometown workshop accompany him to every corner of the galaxy.

The Lord of Iron breathed a long sigh of relief and finally showed obvious embarrassment. "How could Lorgar Aurelion tolerate such a... passionate warrior?"

Morse smiled, and it seemed that it was not difficult for him to accept the reality that such a group of people existed in the world: "You should start to worry about whether Lorgar himself is as passionate."