Warhammer 40k: Shattered Steel Soul

Perturabo had reason to believe that the enemies of Lokos had sent their best troops, even if he did not yet know where they came from.

The enemies not only come from the shadows on the side of the mountain, there are also small black dots moving quickly on the top of the mountain beside the road.

The arrows accumulated momentum from high places and pierced downwards. Some of them penetrated into the dry earth, and some of them were bounced off by the shields of the Lokos. The Lokos guarded them as quickly as possible to get out of the open area and find cover.

Perturabo was curiously unconcerned about being harmed, probably because Morse was there.

He tried to dissuade himself from trusting this unreliable and perverted craftsman, but the attempt was not very successful. So he gave up and cursed in his mind in some vaguely remembered Gothic language.

Several soldiers holding long knives suddenly jumped out from a sharp corner. The helmets on their heads looked funny like an upside-down iron bowl. Some small iron rings in series covered their heads for protection, and they had silver plate-like breastplates. From time to time it reflects dazzling light.

However, such a simple protection miraculously blocked the Lokos people from carrying bullets that crackled and exploded with lightning, draining their energy and forcing the Lokos guards to fight in close combat with their swords.

The leader named Miltiades roared angrily and responded with a spear: "Lord Morse, Lord Perturabo, please rest assured. The Lokos will never let you get hurt."

The soldiers on the opposite side did not hesitate to roar loudly to boost their morale, and rushed towards them with long swords in hand.

There were not many of them, only five of them, and they happened to meet up with Lokos one by one, and fell directly into a close fight. The archers on the mountain stopped shooting. It was obvious that they could not accurately shoot the enemies in close combat, and they had no intention of harming Morse and Perturabo.

Enemies are here to rob them, like looting precious cargo and proof of glory.

Perturabo didn't know if he should do something. He seemed like he shouldn't stand back when others were fighting for him, but he didn't have the skills to kill enemies with a sword, and he didn't have any weapons.

"Morse." He called Morse's name, involuntarily bringing anxiety to his tone.

Morse was rubbing his chin, watching the battle in front of him with too much indifference, his disheveled hair looking darker in the night.

Soon, he said: "Who do you think will win?"

Perturabo opened his mouth in surprise: "You mean?"

Morse nodded and unexpectedly sat down on the ground, resting his head on one hand, making it clear that he had no intention of participating in the battle.

Not far in front of him, a cloud of soldiers' blood was splashing into the air, accompanied by more injuries and shouts.

"I think Lokos will lose." Morse said, "They are at a disadvantage in numbers, and these attackers have long-range support. Maybe the Lokos soldiers are elites, but when the difference in individual strength between the two is not huge enough, the Lokos people Only death can fulfill their vow to fight."

He invited Perturabo to sit down, but the boy refused by standing up straight.

"Do something, Morse." He spoke to Morse with all his composure. "You can change the entire battle situation with just a flick of your finger, using your unknown ability."

He didn't understand why Morse could be so calm when their defenders were bleeding.

The enemy suddenly let out a loud cheer, and the strong bloody smell spread out. Perturabo clenched his fist tightly.

"My lords, believe in Lokos!" Miltiades's cry was combined with some kind of grief.

Then the shouts of the enemy rose above the weakening roars of the Lokos.

A big warrior holding a round shield laughed wildly: "God-given Qadisiya boy, the Kingdom of Ax welcomes you! The weak Lokos can give you the status and power, we Ax can Give you more! Look, Lokos only bleeds, but we Ax are invincible!"

Morse suddenly laughed, and the smile lit up his whole face. He looked at Perturabo with burning eyes: "Look, Lokos is not the only one who welcomes you."

Perturabo's anxiety was etched on his face. Another thought was born in his heart, and he suddenly understood the reason why Morse sat still.

Still, calm failed to find Perturabo.

Morse invited him to sit down again, and Perturabo shook his head violently.

"Look at these people," Morse said. "Look at their armor, the sharp peaks on their round helmets, the flower-stem-like nose guards, the beautiful combination of chain armor and plate armor, and the extraordinary advanced shields. Energy source. What can you see from it? I saw the hot fires in countless craftsmen's furnaces, as well as the developed mining, forging, and agricultural and animal husbandry industries that support the army. , and welcome you as well as the Lokos.”

At this point, Morse raised the corner of his mouth and said sarcastically: "No, they welcome you more than Lokos, because Lokos seems to have changed from welcoming you to welcoming me."

The invitations from the people of Ax continue: "Boy! Your bravery in slaying beasts will shine in Ax! You will be the most outstanding warrior! With Hexpolis above, you will be an army of thousands Lord!”

Morse stretched out his hand to grab the air, and the unknown elements began to condense. Gradually, a beautifully shaped long knife appeared out of thin air in his hand. The blade was so sharp that one doubted whether even a child could easily cut off a boulder; simple but extremely rich. Beautiful carvings decorate the surface of the steel knife, forming a set of mysterious inscriptions.

He didn't make a handle for the steel sword, so the weapon suspended in the air couldn't be used yet.

"I haven't decided what to engrave on the hilt," Morse said. "Perturabo for Lokos, or Perturabo for Ax?"

The Arxians burst into cheers for a second time, and Perturabo's breathing became extremely rapid, as if the oxygen near his body was no longer enough to supply his thoughts.

He turned his head and looked directly at the two men in the battle, and then he heard a determined shout from the throat of Miltiades, a desperate man whose right hand was bleeding profusely, abandoned his shield, and used his left hand to fight with a spear. : "Two adults! Although Lokos is not good at violence and war, we will never back down before a battle!"

Perturabo listened blankly and took a step forward.

No one knew what kind of excitement the two sides' words had in his heart. As time passed, the skylight disc player lit up slightly, dispersing the shadows on his face.

He suddenly turned around vigorously with his whole body, and the veins on the side of his neck stretched.

"You cold-blooded guy! The Axians took away the cattle, sheep and steel from farmers and craftsmen to build an army. They will only use my abilities to fight. That's what I see! I don't need the welcome of Axes !”

Perturabo growled, but not to accuse Morse. He didn't have the time, and continued: "Did you just say that this knife was going to be given to me?"

"It will be yours." Morse let the blade rise and float before Perturabo's eyes.

"Gifts cost nothing, do they?"

Before Mors could answer, Perturabo reached out and grabbed the sharp blade. His blood instantly filled the blade and embedded itself in every hollow inscription.

The next moment, he rushed into the battle with a sharp blade, piercing every design flaw in Ax's armor with amazing skills and a sharp weapon that was too powerful to cut.

In his fighting stance, Morse captures both the honed and inherited killing skills of the Arks and Lokos. Even though Perturabo was restless, he was already prepared to quickly observe and learn the ability of actual combat, and turned this ability into practical experience on the spot.

With sharp eyes, Morse saw that the gap in the armor pierced by Perturabo was exactly what Lokos's Miltiade had exploited during the previous fight.

"I will not be a madman addicted to war!" The boy declared to everyone on the field with battle and words, "Don't even think about using my fighting talent. I am a craftsman who builds cities, and my construction will start from Lokos!"

Morse looked for a moment, then stood up.

As Perturabo puts it, he "took his fingers."

More Ax ambushes hiding around and the Ax archers above covered their throats, and thin arterial blood overflowed from their fingers, spreading all over the dry land.

He walked towards Perturabo, who had killed the enemy side by side with the Lokos. The boy fell in his direction. Morse caught him and used his psychic energy to heal the deep wounds on his back and palms.

"If you are a craftsman, you should protect your hands." He said softly. "I don't remember threatening you and grabbing the blade with your bare hands."

Perturabo looked at him tiredly and snorted slightly.

There were three Locos alive, including Miltiades and two other warriors. They supported each other and knelt down at Perturabo.

"Thank you, Lord Perturabo!" they said in unison, the respect in their words obvious to everyone, even though they obviously believed that Perturabo was actually a mortal boy.

Perturabo regained some of his strength and stood upright again, slowly letting the syllables float clearly into the air.

"Get up and take us to Lokos."

The spiers of the Lokos city-state in the distance were lit up with golden spots by the rising sun, and Perturabo didn't want to wait any longer.