32 Madmen

Eleven hours after the war ended, Kaul still believed that Karyl should not leave his bedside and walk around.

The Chapter Master's concerns and insistence were not without reason. For someone whose serious injuries had not yet healed—in fact, were incurable—bed rest was the best option.

However, his persuasion was met only with "I insist" and a calm gaze. So the nutrient solution was cut off, and the Servitor wrapped bandages around his still blood-soaked body, which would soon be completely soaked in blood.

This also meant that Karyl's activity time was strictly limited; in the words of the Apothecary, he had to change his bandages regularly to prevent infection.

A lame excuse. Kaul thought to himself, but he didn't show it at the time; instead, he concealed it very well.

He walked expressionlessly through the fortress built by the Sons of Red Sand, absentmindedly observing the burning candles and the ubiquitous sculptures, feeling a strange sense of familiarity.

This weathered and war-torn fortress bears a resemblance to the Astartes Monastery, likely due to certain traditions within the Sons of Red Sand.

They still yearn to fight alongside the War Hounds; people always change their surroundings for certain reasons, just like the Soul of Night.

Thinking of this, Kaul's heart skipped a beat. He stopped in his tracks, his face grim.

A warship that had served for ten thousand years was thus "retired" under his command. Although she did die a worthy death, it was still an unacceptable and enormous loss.

Even if we acquire a new warship, what difference will it make? The Soul of Night is gone. Even if the new warship has enough firepower to inherit the name, it cannot truly replace the Soul of Night and its millennia-long steadfastness.

Kaul sighed heavily, composed himself, and continued towards his destination, quickening his pace. Just a few minutes later, he left the fortress and arrived at its severely damaged walls.

The smoke of battle had not yet cleared, and the city walls were covered in bloodstains that had seeped into the bricks and steel. Only a dozen or so machine guns and cannons, still smoking, were still able to fire.

Around them, a few Servitor were diligently cleaning and repairing the equipment, while the surviving soldiers of the Red Sand Sons 67th Armored Regiment stood on the other side, strictly adhering to military discipline and patrolling with their guns at the ready.

Watching this scene, Kaul, standing in the shadows, nodded almost imperceptibly—there weren't many disciplined Astra Militarum, and even fewer who could maintain that quality after the war.

These people truly hold themselves to the highest standards, striving their entire lives just so that one day they can set foot on Nuceria and participate in the selection process.

He stepped out of the shadows, and as he did so, he straightened a Servitor sensor had malfunctioned due to his sudden appearance.

The latter's feet collided with a loud thud. It looked up at him but received no command. So it lowered its head and continued cleaning up the blood.

Two soldiers not far away turned sharply at the sound, their light guns already poised to fire. Kaul nodded to them, and after receiving two awkward smiles in return, he finally spoke.

"Good day, loyal soldiers," Kaul said.

He felt a little nauseous.

Whenever and wherever he tried to speak in that authoritative, distant, and extremely official tone, he would feel this inappropriate urge to vomit.

It was as if a cynical part of him was screaming: Stop with the act, don't act like some kind of hero!

"Good day, sir!" a soldier stood at attention, saluted, and shouted. "It is my honor to fight alongside you!"

Kaul nodded again, ignoring the praise that made him slightly uncomfortable, and said in a deep voice, "You still haven't let your guard down, which is very commendable. The Sons of Red Sand are indeed disciplined. Where is your commander?"

"That's me." A weary woman approached, clutching a gun, and introduced herself to Kaul. "I'm their company commander, Sophiel, at least for now. What can I do for you, sir?"

"I would like to ask you and your brothers to leave the city walls temporarily, in about thirty minutes," Kaul said. "My brothers and I have some matters we wish to discuss here."

The woman looked at him with a slight confusion, but said nothing. She simply saluted and then issued a command at the top of her lungs.

Her roar was so loud that the soldiers patrolling the fortress walls immediately responded, dragging their weary bodies back into the fortress.

They will have a precious and hard-won 30-minute break, during which they can take a nap or have a smoke to relax.

Despite having so many pastimes to do, Kaul saw no joy on the faces of these soldiers; some even harbored resentment and did not want to leave their duties.

"It seems faith really can change a person," a hoarse voice said behind him.

Kaul turned around and, in the dim afternoon light of Litatera, saw a person draped in a thick robe, whose face was covered in bandages.

He suppressed his shock and bowed his head to greet him, "Instructor."

"You seem a little surprised," the instructor said. "Why?"

His tone was anything but pleasant; in fact, his overflowing madness and violence were practically spilling out.

Kaul looked silently into his eyes, and through layers of blood-stained bandages, he saw two completely black eyes. The light reflected from the sky of Litatera was scattered into murky, inexplicably dispersed spots of light.

At first glance, it resembles two cold, silver bars. Therefore, this is a prison.

But what did it shut out?

"Forgive my lapse," Karyl said, seemingly realizing something from Kaul's silence and reaction. However, even uttering this apology sounded difficult to him; it was more like a threat.

Kaul wanted to say something, but couldn't utter a word. He could only nod silently, then took a step back and gestured to the other Shadow Knights still in the shadows.

Not far away, several shouts came from below the city wall, seemingly the screams of civilians who had miraculously survived.

The people of Hive City also have their limits. They are not residents of the Garden of Nurgle World, living in luxury and of noble lineage. These thugs, swindlers, and cunning citizens who have dealt with them for years are already strong enough, but they still couldn't transcend everything.

The burning city and the "legacy" left by the Daemon were far too much even for them.

Kaul withdrew his gaze and looked at their instructor again, only to find the latter staring blankly in a certain direction, lost in thought. A hateful gust of wind, carrying the smell of gunpowder and blood, blew past, and a bloody mark appeared on his right cheek.

Kaul's eye twitched involuntarily.

"Faith!"

Karyl spoke at the opportune moment, turning his head and casually touching his face, which stained the bandage on his fingers with blood. He didn't seem surprised by this; the bandage on his face deformed slightly, Kaul heard a soft chuckle.

"This is really interesting. Ten thousand years ago, we all regarded faith as a kind of spiritual poison, but now..."

Kaul felt a chill run down his spine, not for any other reason than the word "we".

"It's really ironic, Kaul. We all despise religion until we ourselves have to pick it up and use it. Humans always seem to say one thing, do another, and think yet another."

He was silent for a moment, then suddenly laughed again, "I'm sorry to keep you here listening to my untimely and sentimental rants. I guess I've disappointed you, Chapter Master?"

"Absolutely not," Kaul replied solemnly.

"But I can't offer you any help," Karyl said thoughtfully. "As you can see, I'm now just a cripple, and I have to walk very carefully."

"You've tried for ten thousand years to rescue me, but can this truly be called rescue? How exactly did I escape, and how did I reappear in this world?"

He lowered his head and looked at his hands.

"I don't even know what kind of existence I am right now."

Kaul listened in silence, once again finding himself in an awkward situation where he couldn't say anything. He wanted to tell the other person that they didn't need to do anything; their mere existence was an encouragement to them.

But doesn't that sound a bit too bizarre? To turn the legion, no, the Chapter's instructor into a statue, to deify him, to make him harmless.

Under the eternal night, what am I thinking? Shen will kill me for this.

The young Chapter Master frowned deeply behind his helmet, his breathing becoming heavy. His reaction drew keen observation, followed by a helpless sigh.

"Please excuse me, I must leave for a moment," Karyl said.

He turned around, braced himself against the city wall with his hands, and then jumped down.

His movements were so swift that Kaul only had time to take one step forward before he disappeared beyond the city walls.

The once quiet shadows suddenly erupted, and knights clad in somber armor rushed out. Without a word, with the clanging of Kaul's clenched fists, they followed closely behind, leaping off the city walls and swiftly disappearing into the burning city.

"Shen," Kaul murmured to himself, uttering a name. He removed his helmet, his young face filled with bewilderment.

However, neither he nor his brothers knew that Karyl had not gone far—in fact, he had not left the fortress at all.

He waited patiently in the darkness cast by the city gate, coldly observing the Shadow Knights pass by one by one, as if he had returned to ten thousand years ago and was undergoing a test.

Only after they had all left did he emerge from the darkness, slowly supporting himself on his knees as he walked toward the ruins.

He walked slowly, partly to avoid the patrols and the Shadow Knights who had stayed behind to search for him, and partly because he could no longer walk fast.

His bones, joints, and even every muscle fiber were trembling; every second he used them was excruciating.

Karyl stopped and leaned against a pillar that hadn't yet collapsed, silently exhaling the air from his lungs, a shiver of pain washing over him. At the same time, the ground beneath his feet trembled slightly.

Karyl turned his head, unsurprised, and asked, "Footprints?"

A Shadow Knights nodded to him and replied, "Footprints."

A row of bright red footprints stretched from his feet to Karyl's back, the marks left by blood soaking through bandages. It stretched all the way from the city gate to here.

Karyl was well aware of this; he wouldn't make such a basic mistake. The reason he left a trace was simply to offer some assistance.

"Are you going to give a report now?" Karyl asked.

"That depends on what you plan to do, instructor. Also, my name is—"

" --Zel," Karyl said. "I know you."

The Shadow Knights, known as Zel, paused noticeably, then raised his hand to remove his helmet, saying in a slightly somber tone, "I don't understand."

"It's good that you don't understand, Paladin. Could you please refrain from reporting for the time being?"

"I told you, instructor, it depends on what you're going to do."

"I'm going to retrieve a mask and a stone," Karyl said.

At the same time, he suddenly clenched his right fist tightly, and a flash of blue light appeared in his eyes. The trail of blood disappeared completely, leaving no trace.

"Forgive my ignorance," Zel took a deep breath. "I don't understand what you're talking about, Instructor."

Karyl did not answer the question, but instead raised his hand, gathering the Radiance of psionic energy into the air to form a light screen. As soon as it took shape, it fluctuated rapidly, creating two completely different illusory scenes.

First, there was a pale, skeletal mask. Second, there was a golden round stone. A streak of bright red blood spread across its center, resembling the vertical pupil of a wild beast.

The light barrier vanished, and Karyl turned and left, leaving no trace of blood beneath his feet.

"Come on, Zel, we'll be there soon," Karyl said. "Once I find them, you can report to Chapter Master Kaul."

"I still don't understand." Zel hurried after him, persistently pressing for an answer. "I mean, the thing about you calling me by my nickname."

Karyl calmly turned his head to look at the giant who was much taller than him, and silently shook his head.

The afternoon sun in Litatera was gradually turning into sunset. The wind stirred the flames burning in the surrounding ruins, crackling and making his gaze seem like two sharp knives, piercing straight into Zel's heart.

The paladin's already pale face suddenly turned even paler, and fine beads of sweat gradually covered his forehead. However, he remained steadfast in his gaze towards Karyl, without wavering in the slightest.

He was resisting a mountain-like, terrifying pressure. Only when Karyl deliberately looked away did the oppressive feeling dissipate.

"You already have the answer," Karyl said. "So, let's get to work, Zel. I don't have much time."