16: Molten Steel (IV)

"You knew this would happen all along, didn't you?"

"No."

"Don't joke around!" Forrix growled, his fists clenched.

"You could have stopped all this with me, Van Cleef! Look at him! How can this collaboration continue? We have a planet to reclaim, and our Primarch has been sent to the hospital by your instructors!"

Van Cleef breathed slowly, turning his head to glance at the surveillance footage displayed in front of him, following Forrix's words.

There were no windows on the Iron Blood, not even in the infirmary. The order was given by Perturabo himself, and Van Cleef didn't know why, but he still found the situation both comical and absurd.

Was it really true that no one objected to only being able to observe patients through surveillance cameras? Did the Apothecary and medical officers in Iron Warriors just accept this inconvenience that would cause them trouble in their work?

"Company Commander Forrix." Van Cleef turned his gaze to the First Company Commander of the Iron Warriors.

He stood ramrod straight, completely unmoved by the hostility displayed by the other Iron Warriors, his expression calm and serene.

"Regarding what you just said, there's something I need to correct you on. It's impossible for us to stop all of this. Your Primarch extremely stubborn, and while I admire stubborn people, I would never try to persuade them."

"If I had walked into the dueling cage with you back then, what do you think would have happened? Would your Primarch have patiently listened to our advice? No, I bet he would have just yelled at us to get out."

"But at least you can convince your instructor!" Forrix roared, his voice weak.

"Our instructor," Van Cleef emphasized curtly. "Besides, what makes you think I can persuade him?"

"Because--"

Forrix's face twitched, quite noticeably. The infirmary's monitoring room was deathly silent; the Steels silently surrounded the only Night Lords present.

Some of them wore obvious indignation, while others looked malicious. Only a few remained rational, knowing that taking action at this moment would be a very unwise decision, despite their dissatisfaction.

Forrix was one of them; although he seemed to be going crazy, Van Cleef knew that he still had his sanity.

Even just a little bit.

Van Cleef wouldn't blame him for it—seeing one's Primarch beaten, tortured, and humiliated is unbearable for any Legion.

At this moment, Van Cleef was very grateful for Perturabo's order. If only he had ordered all the Iron Warriors to be present, instead of just sending high-ranking officers to watch.

The local inhabitants of Koldipo, located below the orbits of the Iron Blood and Nightfall, are probably laughing in their sleep.

"Why, Company Commander Forrix?"

"Because, compared to our Primarch, your instructors are clearly more rational," Forrix said through gritted teeth. "Even if he's a madman who'd hold a Primarch accountable for a sergeant's dereliction of Primarch."

Van Cleef frowned sharply.

"Neglect of duty?" His calm voice finally showed a slight change.

"The duel ended forty-three minutes ago. You have plenty of time to investigate the cause of the duel, namely Sergeant Eltelos's death. But you simply call it 'dereliction of duty'?"

"He didn't arrive at the attack location within the allotted time!" Forrix growled in response, his voice still high, but he lowered his head and avoided Van Cleef's gaze.

"By the Emperor! What nonsense are you spouting?! Who can reach that damned attack location on time without the cover of heavy vehicles?!"

After Van Cleef finished speaking, he pursed his lips, took a deep breath, and calmed his overly excited emotions. He remained silent for a long time before uttering the next few words.

"Sergeant Eltelos and his men advanced four hundred meters across the ravaged position under the barrage of artillery fire from the fortress. Those four hundred meters took them less than two minutes, but do you know how many lives they paid for them? And your Primarch even said that Sergeant Eltelos betrayed his trust."

His voice grew lower and lower, more and more sinister, until it almost became a low growl that swept through the entire room— Forrix suddenly realized that the voice was almost exactly the same as the one the skeleton had made in the dueling arena.

"Alright, then let him stay in the ward! You can take care of him if you want, it's up to you. Midnight Blade will take over this planet and reclaim it!"

Van Cleef declared angrily and then left without hesitation. He left so decisively that the Iron Warriors, still reeling from his rage, didn't even have time to stop him.

Some people instinctively wanted to chase after them, but the two doors that had just closed were opened again, and a tall, dark Shadow stood there, gazing inside.

He stood in the corridor, the pale light flickering above him. But to the Iron Warriors, there was only darkness behind him.

This counterintuitive scene caused many people to instinctively take a step back. Then, the Shadow stepped in, relaxed and natural, as if nothing had ever happened.

"Good day, men," he greeted hoarsely. "I apologize for what our company commander just said; he was overcome by a surge of anger, which is rare for Midnight Blade —he wouldn't do that, so you can all rest assured."

"What are you doing here?" An unfriendly voice asked from the dark mass of steel.

Karyl glanced over there, said nothing, and remained calm. However, considering what he had just done, his expression now carried a highly provocative undertone.

The man who had spoken fell silent, for reasons unknown. His brothers could only see his trembling lips, his slowly twitching eyes, and his ashen face.

"I've come to see your company commander, Forrix, one of the Trident Council's 'Breakers'," Karyl said. "I have something I'd like to discuss with him."

"I am." Forrix stepped out of the crowd, having forced himself to regain his composure.

Steel does not accept rust, nor will it be corroded. He will not allow irrational behavior to happen to him—at least not now, not when facing this person.

"Greetings, Lord Forrix." Karyl nodded to him, addressing him with the utmost respect. "Could you please have your colleagues leave for a moment? I have something I need to discuss with you privately."

"And then you want to duel our company commander again? Are you trying to pull the same trick again?"

Another discordant voice rose from the crowd, but this time, Karyl didn't turn to observe the speaker. Forrix had already raised his right hand, the movement swift and decisive.

"Shut up," the Citybreaker said coldly. "Dantioch, don't say anything inappropriate at this time."

"But--"

"--Everyone, leave." Forrix glared at him sternly. "Everyone, leave. Let me speak with Instructor Karyl alone."

"."

Silently, the Iron Warriors departed. The monitoring room, which had been completely unnecessary, finally achieved a long-awaited emptiness. Forrix, calm and rational, had encased his heart in steel, discarding all distractions and unnecessary preconceived notions, leaving only pure reason. Only then did he speak.

"What do you want with me?" the city breaker asked curtly. "If it concerns military cooperation, I'm afraid I can't help. Any unauthorized action without orders from Perturabo will be considered a betrayal of him."

"Yes, I already know about this." Karyl nodded slightly. "Sergeant Eltelos explained this in detail the moment he contacted us. His original plan was a feint attack to coordinate with our surprise attack, but he abandoned that plan himself."

Forrix's Adam's apple bobbed. "What exactly are you trying to say?"

"I have something very offensive to say." Karyl laughed slowly, a gentle laugh that, for some reason, made Forrix feel a chill run down his spine.

"You can just say it," Forrix insisted.

Karyl looked at him for a while, and finally gave in.

"Alright," he said softly. "These words have been bottled up inside me for a while now. Although it's not quite at the point where I absolutely have to get them out, keeping them bottled up isn't a good thing."

"Since you've asked, I'll speak—I believe your Primarch Perturabo is extremely paranoid and extreme in character. But he is also very sensitive, and he seems to have a self-consistent logic that he can explain himself. Have you read any books on mental health issues?"

The Iron Warriors Company Commander's expression turned uglier than ever before, as the steel encasing him was easily torn away. The truly tragic part was that the person who did this to him had just done the same to their Primarch not long ago in the dueling arena.

In a physical sense, it was done once.

He pulled Perturabo out of the specially made Terminator Armour. To be fair, the Primarch didn't bleed much afterward, but every Iron Warriors watched the entire duel felt a chill run down their spine.

"No." Forrix forced himself to answer, his voice becoming extremely dry, as if he had just swallowed a potent corrosive liquid. "I've never read any books on that subject."

"I've read it," Karyl said. "On the Emperor's Dream."

Forrix's eyes widened slowly as he watched the Night Lords instructor raise his right hand, and a gleaming golden Aquila appeared in his palm.

"This little thing proves nothing, but if possible, I would like to ask that I be allowed to meet your Primarch in the ward. We still have a war to fight, Company Commander Forrix."

The city breaker took a deep breath and fell into a deathly silence.

Two more chapters to go, 10,000 words today.