Carlil reached out and pulled one pinpointingly from the mountain of papers. It was three fingers thick, and its rough and uneven surface was coated with a thin layer of gel, and the characters and real paper were clearly visible in the solidified gelatin.

Carlil pinched it with his fingers slightly, and felt a burst of stone-hard hardness.

It's a lot of fun. He narrowed his eyes and lifted the piece of paper in front of him. Not surprisingly, it enveloped the entire upper half of his body.

At a cursory glance, this is a battle report that chronicles a major battle that the Crimson Claw Warband experienced in 32. The writer obviously had a wealth of experience, and in just three words he wrote about the dangers of this war.

Carlil went back to the beginning and began to peruse again, and three important names were captured by him.

One of them is Seth Harlan, an Inquisitor who focuses on hunting down traitors. Carlil closed his eyes, pondered for a few seconds, and soon remembered his life. The inquisitor lived for four centuries before finally dying in a rebel attack within the empire.

He was completely surrounded by the rebellious Imperial Guard in the easternmost part of the Sun Field, tried to break through but could not do so, and tried to call out before he died, according to the top secret regulations within the Inquisition. God's name.

His name, not the god of vengeance.

Carlil smiled—another little Machado trick, but it worked, at least he heard it in the dark.

The second name was Captain Gasterin de Chambal of the 72nd Regiment of the Urtogen Penal Army, who had an ominous name, but was himself an irreproachable loyal.

In the battle, named Scarlet Fall, it was he who led the 72nd Regiment to behead the enemy's main mortal general, a governor whose name was erased, through a flank raid.

His bravery sealed the victory, but it didn't end well. Twenty-six years after the war, he froze to death in a world full of snow and ice, and when he died, he was left alone and his troops were forced to get lost in the snow due to the effects of Chaos Sorcery. He was forty-nine years old.

May you rest in peace.

Then, it came to the last name - Yar Ashshik, the original leader of the Crimson Claw War Leader. He died in the battle, along with the entire regiment of 622 fighting brothers.

So, why?

Carlil had the answer, but that was Yar's subjective perspective, so he began to reread it again.

The cause of the battle was attributed to the betrayal of the governor of Tetius, the site of the battle, who sent a distress signal falsely claiming that his planet was under siege by a large number of Astarte traitors.

The Crimson Claw, who were roaming nearby, picked up the announcement and hurried to Tetius. They had met the traitors in the vicinity of low-earth orbit, but they were just a group of traitors who had been prepared for a long time and outnumbered them several times.

Under the circumstances, Yar Ashhik quickly judged the situation and gave a speech. From the mouths of the survivors, and from the contemplative array records of the 'Bloody Mujahideen', the writer reconstructs his speech.

We can break through and get out, but we can't do that, because that's what this cowardly bastard wants us to do. We will never do what the enemy wants. ”

"Let me tell you why."

"Behold, yells. At this moment, they were holding an entire imperial world and the lives of all the innocents on it, but they were in no hurry to set this world on fire as before. What else do I need to say? It is clear that this is a trap just to lure us into the bait. ”

"Therefore, if we follow rational judgment and make a breakout, there is a fair amount of certainty that we can leave here, and we will be safe. But, if I had to say, this is the real fall into their trap! ”

"A Child of the Night can be killed, but death is only the beginning for us. What they really want to do is to force us to sink in the blood of innocents until we become maggots as lowly as they are. ”

"They won't succeed, the Bloody Mujahideen won't retreat, and neither will the Crimson Claws. We will fight and die, and we will not turn our backs on any innocent. ”

After giving this speech, Crimson Claw's fleet began charging and jumping towards the twelve enemy ships anchored in low Earth orbit.

With their courage and determination to the death, they gained some advantage, and all the enemy ships were destroyed or blown up, and not a single one remained. At the cost of only one of its seven ships, the battle loss ratio was staggering, but it was almost a big victory.

However, they don't just have interstellar enemies to deal with.

With fire still burning on the ground in Tetius, the surviving Crimson Claw regrouped and made a desperate attempt to force a landing on the ground.

Their airborne silo projection system was badly damaged in naval battles and simply could not be used. The forced landing was even worse, almost breaking the first generation of bloody jihadists in two.

However, their adventure was worth it, and ninety-five hours after the start of the battle, the last traitor located on Tetius was also killed.

Great victory, crushing victory, glorious victory. The writer wrote these three comments.

In addition, it is worth mentioning that during the battle, Crimson Claw had many people directly ascend to demons - in fact, almost two-thirds of the six hundred and twenty-two killed in battle were directly ascended.

In order to win this war, they had to tear their own human skins and fight with a more hideous posture. And in this case, in the eyes of the witnesses, they are not much different from the traitors, they are even more evil, more terrifying.

After the end of the war, Seth Harlan led his team to Tetius, where he somehow settled the local society. The gossip and eyewitnesses were either amnesiac or accepted into the courtroom.

It seems like a happy ending, but Tetius is forever changed after this battle, and it is completely impregnated by a spiral of hatred, and the local people become radical and violent.

Of course, that's all for later.

Carlil sighed and put down the battle report in his hand.

He didn't know how to feel, although he could hear their voices in the dark, and even saw some one-sided flashbacks, but the cold words were more powerful than the images.

They are just stacks of data and data, strings of cold descriptions without any rhetorical device or embellishment of memory. They bring only the purest and most cruel truth.

The truth is, in 10,000 years, something like this has happened countless times. And it's not just the Children of the Night, it's countless people who are bleeding.

Someone might have compiled these things and written them into a magnificent heroic epic, but Carlil could only see endless blood and bones between the numbers.

This is a bloody catastrophe that he has single-handedly created.

Yes, he knows, there are many people who have survived because of him. But how many people died because of him?

Carlil put down the battle report, and there was no expression on his face, which had almost barely recovered. But if someone can penetrate into his heart at this moment, they will find that those dark thoughts that have been suppressed with great difficulty have come back at this moment.

They float from the depths, breaking through the limits of reason, unstoppable like a tidal wave. It took a few minutes for Carlil to regain his senses.

He sighed and walked over to another pile of papers. He didn't want to interrupt his work like this, but if he continued to read the battle report, his shaky sanity would probably fall into the abyss entirely.

At that point, it will be a bit difficult to get back to 'normal'.

For the sake of the safety of the Nightfall's crew, he instead picked up a document book with the Inquisition's logo. The Aquila and the skeleton came into view, and with trembling fingers he flipped through the page and saw a line of printed font printed in the center of the white paper.

"Orikana Nest Survey Report."

He flipped the page again, only with a little more force, and even a little rough. The blood even broke free from the psionic shackles and penetrated the bandages, leaving blood-red fingerprints on the white paper with incomparable clarity.

His breathing couldn't help but become heavy, and he felt bitter at the scene that broke the white harmony, but he could only let go of his fingers and let the blood continue to drip down.

At that moment, a voice came from outside the office door.

"Instructor."

Carlil looked over with his dark red eyes, which had turned dark red at some point, and replied hoarsely, "Come in." ”

The door slid open, and the hunter entered, in an intriguing manner. He clutched a pitch-black tome in one hand and a rusty, sharp knife in the other, the blade facing Karil, as if it would attack him in the next second.

"I'm here to deliver something." The Hunter said very calmly, ignoring Karil's dangerous posture at the moment.

His words met with a cold gaze, and Carlil put down the blood-stained report in his hand and began to approach him. The pace was by no means gentle, but rather heavy, and every step made the steel tremble.

The Nightfall Horn wailed at his feet, and the howling cold wind began to tear at the hunter's body, urging him to hurry away. But the hunter was unmoved, and he remained where he was, until his cloudy white eyes reflected Carlil's disintegrating face.

His skin was broken again. The hunter thought.

"Instructor." The hunter called again. "I'm just here to deliver something."

Karil stared at him intently, and after a few moments, he reluctantly bowed his head to take the tome and the rusty blade. He glanced at them, and instantly plunged the rusty blade straight back into the book.

The tome trembled for a moment, and a faint thunderclap flashed through the room. The cold wind gradually turned into a violent wind, and the hunter slowly spoke: "It was His Excellency Azek Ariman who asked me to return this book to you. ”

"The Blind."

After a few seconds of silence, Carlil struggled to spit out the name. His teeth were clucking, but not because of hatred, but because some long-ago memories were coming back.

The hunter nodded and said, "Yes, also known as the Blind One." He somehow measured your return and decided that you would need this book more than he did. ”

"He's still alive?"

"The door is still there, and so is the key." Said the hunter. "Because of this book, the blind man has become transcendent, and in the baptism of the flames of his wrath he will fall into hell forever."

"There are four other people who have suffered the same thing as him, but they are not in the same good situation as Lord Ahriman, and they are still able to stay with their brothers."

Carlil was silent for a moment, then placed the book in his hand on the pile of papers. He pointed to the Astarte-sized chair, walked to the corner, moved the human-sized chair, and sat down on it.

"Talk to me." He said hoarsely. "I'm interested in these things."

The hunter smiled for the first time.

"Lord Ahriman and his brothers are now serving in the wild wolves. The more special position of bard is under the direct authority of Björn. ”

"Lord Sigismund has fallen into a deep sleep many years ago, and he was transported back to Rog Dorn's fortress by the Black Templars, where he is sleeping deeply."

"His Excellency Saul Tavicz wanders around Chermos, tasked with finding new blood for the Emperor's Sons Warband. As one of the parent groups, they have always been sparsely populated. I think this has something to do with His Excellency Tavitz's exacting standards. ”

"Lord Thunder is the most mysterious of all, we rarely hear from him, but he still wanders among the seas of stars. He was last seen two centuries ago, alongside the Weepers, a child of the Blood Angels. ”

Carlil slowly closed his eyes and nodded softly.

"Weepers?"

He inquired again, his voice softer. The Hunter knew he wanted to listen and distract himself, so he immediately picked up - frankly, it was probably the most he had spoken in the nearly three hundred years since he had been a 'Hunter'.

"Yes, weepers, instructor. A glorious and noble warband who tend to make the same choices as we do when faced with innocents and the people of the Empire. For this reason, I personally respect these cousins, but they seem to be unlucky. ”

"Since the formation of the warband, they have been facing many catastrophes that they could not handle on their own. Fortunately, the Regent of St. Giles soon noticed this, and he summoned the Weepers near Terra with the only two hundred and twenty-one fighting brothers left in the regiment at that time. ”

"And then?"

"And then, they're still unlucky." The hunter sighed. "Although with the support of the original body, as well as the direct blood transfusion and equipment support of the mother group, nothing has changed in the matter of doom."

"It's hard for me to say what the hell is going on here. Maybe I could see something after seeing them in person, but we've never met them. ”

Carlil opened his eyes, and the dull red had completely faded from the bottom of his eyes. He lowered his head, tapped his knee as if he was contemplating, and spoke hoarsely.

"What is your relationship with Talos Valcoran?"

The hunter didn't answer, but just stood up, bowed slightly, and then turned away. Carlil watched him walk away, reaching for the tome.

There's a lot more to see.

He opened the book, and his bloody face began to recover rapidly, as if a monster had put on a human disguise.

(End of chapter)