The Night Haunter's Sons (I)

Skaradrik slowly removed his helmet, but his movements were anything but gentle; in fact, they could be described as irritable.

That's understandable. Anyone who rushes headlong into a war only to find it's already over and they're too late would probably react the same way.

Moreover, this war is no ordinary war; its purpose is not destruction, but salvation.

He expressionlessly hooked his helmet onto the magnetic hook of his belt, then suddenly turned his head sharply to look behind him.

The sunlight was perfect, filling the walls of the fortress beneath his feet. A Thunderhawk was slowly landing in the ruins of a city not far away. It was painted a ferocious red, with the Crimson Claws emblem on its front reflecting the sunlight.

"How have you been, Your Majesty?" someone said.

He stood in the darkness, his purple, black, and white armor adorned with numerous bas-reliefs for aesthetic purposes, indicating that it was a Mk III Power Armour, also known as the Iron Armor, that had been passed down from the Legion era.

"You too, High Commander of the Cold Soul." Skaradrik nodded coldly to him. "I didn't expect you to arrive before us."

"Isn't this the proper thing to do?" the person behind the armored vehicle immediately retorted. "Also, please call me Sheher; I've never liked that nickname."

Skaradrik laughed, his fangs peeking out from his lips and gleaming in the sunlight.

His face was extremely pale, with blue veins clearly visible beneath his skin. His long, gray hair was neatly tied back, adding a touch of nobility to the title of "Great Prince".

However, he wasn't particularly handsome—at least not by ordinary standards. Such a face, if it appeared in the dark, would probably terrify anyone.

"I know. And that's exactly what I intended."

The Great Khan spoke politely, even bowing deeply, the skulls of traitors hanging from his belt clattering against each other with a dull thud.

His answer elicited a cold snort from Sheher behind that iron mask, which also prompted him to remove his helmet.

Unlike Skaradrik, Sheher's skin wasn't as pale, and although he also possessed Curze Koz's signature dark eyes, he did look more "human."

"You're still the same as before, lacking respect and manners," Sheher said coldly. "No wonder you're the last one to arrive; you've dragged your brothers down, Your Majesty."

The Great Khan smiled and lunged at him, his sharp teeth fully exposed, making his face look extremely ferocious, like a monster or a wild beast.

The Grand Master took a slight step back, then flung the cloak behind his armor at Skladrik's face. He then thrust out his left hand, attempting to beat Skaradrik with his helmet.

He failed as expected; the Crimson Claws's Highlords had all possessed terrifyingly powerful combat abilities, making it easy for them to dodge such an attack. However, Skaradrik also failed.

Sheher swiftly retrieved the helmet and placed it in the path of Skaradrik's outstretched right fist. The two ceased their fight, gazing at each other in the sunlight. After a few seconds, they suddenly smiled at each other.

Of course, these smiles were anything but friendly, whether from the High Lord or the Grand Master. To onlookers in the shadows, their smiles resembled the low growls of two cruel beasts who had reached a consensus.

How interesting, thought the observer in the darkness.

"You say I'm the last one to arrive, but as far as I can see, I haven't seen either of the mother group's brothers, nor even a Shadow of the Hunter. Where have they all gone, Sheher? And what about our youngest officer?"

Faced with his question, Sheher's smile vanished, and his expression returned to its usual blankness. "You ask far too many questions, my dear Rick—"

"--Call me that again, and I'll rip your throat out." The Great Khan coldly interrupted him, his teeth protruding from his lips again.

His teeth seem a little too long, an onlooker thought.

"You can try," Sheher said, staring at him dismissively. "But I'll keep calling you that unless you stop using the nickname 'Cold Soul' to refer to me."

"That is your name, your full name, Sheher Cold Soul. Am I wrong?"

"So, Skaradrik is also your full name, am I wrong?"

The Great Khan bared his teeth and let out a threatening growl. He received only a calm stare and Sheher's outstretched arms.

A few seconds later, he nodded sullenly. "Alright, deal's done. Hurry up and tell me."

Sheher smiled with satisfaction and didn't linger any longer, "The Mothership brothers haven't arrived yet, and the Nightfall seems to be experiencing a Warp Storm. As for Hunter, didn't you see the Cursed Echo was stopped in near-Earth orbit when you came down?"

I saw it.

"That means he arrived, he just didn't show up," Sheher said, even shrugging. "Isn't it always like this? Nothing surprising, he has his duties to perform."

"And what about Kaul Sahora?"

"I'm here."

The Grand Prince and the Grand Commander turned around and saw the person they were discussing step out of the shadows.

The youngest chapter Chapter Master of the Shadow Knights solemnly performed the Aquila Salute to his kin, meticulously expressing his "respect."

His behavior made Skaradrik narrow his eyes in displeasure, but he couldn't find an opportunity to retaliate. After bowing, Kaul immediately got to the point, even maintaining a serious expression.

"First, before I go to see him, I need to explain the current situation to you. Of course, you can choose not to listen."

He paused for half a second, receiving no dissuasion, only an impatient growl and a gesture to continue. So he immediately continued.

"The instructors did indeed return to us, just as the prophecy in the Book of Night foretold—"

He suddenly stopped speaking. Skaradrik was the first to notice something was wrong, and after a mere fifth of a second of pause, he swiftly turned his head.

His long hair flowed freely, and his sharp teeth protruded, making him look like a wild beast ready to devour its prey. Then, he saw a pair of eyes that were just as black as his own.

His two hearts stopped for a moment. Not for anything else, but for that violent and wild nature that was similar to him, yet far surpassed it.

However, this was only the beginning. When the owner of those eyes began to smile, his true emotions, hidden beneath his calm exterior, were fully revealed. From those twitching facial muscles and those unfriendly eyes, Skaradrik read only one word.

Crazy.

"Hello, everyone." The person greeted them in a soft, almost murmured tone.

"Instructor," Kaul greeted first, but his tone was somewhat dry. "I didn't know you were here."

"It's alright, you're not the only one," Karyl said, seemingly trying to force a smile, but it backfired.

At that moment, Sheher clearly saw two sudden surges of crimson in those dark eyes. They were merely two small dots, replacing the pupils, like needles or Thumbtack driven into the eyes, firmly pinning madness to them.

Sheher was momentarily startled, even instinctively suspecting it was the work of some Chaos Gods due to a certain sensitivity. However, his keen sense of smell detected no trace of Chaos.

His senses told him that the man standing before him was just a mortal.

"Actually, even if you told me these things to my face, I wouldn't mind; it's the proper procedure. So let's not say anything more and get to the point," Karyl said.

As he spoke, his neck twitched nervously, and the bandages wrapped around his body below his face were immediately stained with bright red blood. Skaradrik twitched his nostrils, catching a whiff of something terrifyingly cold in the blood.

He gritted his teeth to keep from asking certain questions, and the same thing happened to the ever-watchful High Commander Sheher.

The leader of the Blade of Judgement's Chapter Master couldn't help but twitch at the corner of his eye—yes, there was no foul stench or threat from Chaos, but his gradually awakening senses detected an extremely immense sense of oppression.

This means that the instructor standing in front of him is an extremely powerful Psyker.

Correction: A mentally unstable and extremely powerful Psyker.

Night above, the Book of Night makes no mention of this!

"In short, it is an honor to meet you both. I have been away from the Legion for far too long, long enough for the Legion to be scattered throughout the galaxy. And I know very little about you, so, if it is convenient, before we begin, could you please introduce yourselves and your respective Chapter to me?"

"My name is Sheher, Sheher Cold Soul, Instructor." The Grand Master began stiffly. "I come from the Blade of Judgement Chapter, our Chapter was founded during the Second Founding. We, cough, we have a deep partnership with the Inquisition."

He paused, slightly embarrassed, and looked at Karyl, but saw no message on his face that could offer him any help, only an unfathomable calm and the constant movement of his throat.

"Please continue," Karyl said.

"We—uh, we." Sheher took a deep breath. "Our homeworld is called Mojukan. We've achieved much glory and thwarted Ezekyle Abaddon's plot."

He stopped abruptly as he spoke, as if he didn't know how to continue.

This is to be expected. While deep cooperation with the Inquisition may not seem like much within the current Night Lords, who knows what this former Legion instructor will think? Can he and Jago Sevatarion reach an agreement?

Furthermore, regarding the thwarting of Ezekyle Abaddon's plot.

The Emperor, Terra, and Eternal Night were all on the same side; he could never describe in detail, even if it meant his death, for that would be tantamount to betraying all the brothers who had sacrificed their lives within the Chapter, as well as himself.

Little did he know, Karyl was fully aware of this.

The dead do not lie, especially to him.

"Thank you, High Commander Sheher." The instructor said gently, turning to look at Grand Prince Skaradrik, who had remained silent.

He said nothing, but simply looking at him caused the great king to display an indescribable expression.

He licked his lips and spoke in a rather hoarse voice.

"My name is Skaradrik, from the Crimson Claws. We come from Cainril, and we excel at skinning, carving, raiding, and spreading fear. In fact, we are the best at it. Therefore, if you are looking for a Chapter suitable for hunting down traitors, we are the best choice, Instructor."

Sheher and Kaul simultaneously turned their heads and glanced at him at that moment.

"Traitor? What traitor?" Karyl suddenly asked, his tone completely different from before.

"Traitors who betrayed humanity, the Imperium, and the Emperor," Skaradrik answered without hesitation. "They abandoned the Emperor's grace and shamelessly switched their allegiance to Chaos. They willingly accepted being treated as slaves, and even wished to reduce others to slavery like them. For this, they will pay a bloody price."

Karyl laughed, seemingly pleased, but his words were full of mockery.

"If we judge by the standards of the first half of your statement, Your Majesty, you could probably condemn every world in the entire galaxy as heretics and traitors. Only the faithless and impious would escape unscathed, but I suspect they are also on your kill list."

Skaradrik opened his mouth in utter astonishment, as if to say something, but was suddenly pulled away from his spot by a tremendous force.

The next second, he was pinned against the fortress wall, and icy psionic energy flowed into his body through the right hand gripping his neck, easily rendering him immobile.

This wasn't just the effect of psionic energy; there was something else mixed in, though Skaradrik was unaware of it. He straightened his chest, struggling to breathe, and looked at the person whose eyes were completely filled with blood, seeking an explanation.

Then he got it.

"You killed an innocent person!" Karyl roared, slamming him against the wall, his eyes filled with madness. "Her name was Kormi, a civilian from Deka A-3. Do you remember her? You killed her!"

"Instructor!" Kaul called out anxiously from behind him. "There are clearly no vengeful spirits on Lord Skaradrik!"

Karyl laughed and turned around, his hands gripping Skaradrik's neck not loosening but tightening even more.

He whispered to Kaul, "That's because she forgave him. She harbors no hatred whatsoever. She has a rare and pure soul."

He turned his head, his hands trembling uncontrollably. Skaradrik stared at him, breathless, and noticed the bloodshot in his eyes gradually fading.

A full half minute passed before Karyl continued speaking.

"And you killed her." He stared at Skaradrik, beginning to speak, but his words gradually became incoherent. "You were the judge, the executioner, yet you didn't see the double-edged sword you held."

"You should have used this power of judgment wisely, and you must have used it wisely for the rest of your life, but you carelessly made a wrong judgment once. If she hadn't harbored no hatred in her heart, you would already be dead, Lord Skaradrik."

He released his grip, shook his head, took two steps back, clenched his fists nervously, and vanished like a wisp of black smoke, leaving the three of them staring at each other in bewilderment.

"Is what he said true, Skaradrik?" Sheher asked seriously.

The Grand Prince did not answer the question, but coughed as he stood up, a ring of bright red handprints already visible around his neck. He looked at the Grand Master, then at Kaul, and took a deep breath.

"I will find a way to get to the bottom of this," he said, emphasizing each word. "I will never tolerate any lie, not even self-deception."

He turned and left.