Serious People, Who is Learning Magic at Marvel?

Arianto thought he would jump straight up, and even if he didn't have a weapon, he would bite his throat with his teeth.

But he didn't, he just looked at this person carefully - different from the Angron in his impression, the giant standing in front of him had roughly the same face as the tyrant, but different in details.

For example, he doesn't have a butcher's nail.

The thick scarlet cables that sprouted through the scalp and sprouted on the surface of the brain were nowhere to be seen. His expression was not too nervous, but rather calm. If it was the Angron he knew, he would twitch nervously between conversations, and the pain would make his anger run high.

And the Butcher's Nail turns those rages into the urge to slaughter everything—and Angron has done just that several times. Many World Eater sergeants died innocently at the hands of their genetic fathers, for no reason, no explanation.

"My lord..." Givaudan whispered. "He doesn't know who you are."

"I am Angron, who else could it be?" The Lord of Red Sand said calmly. "Could it be that you want me to deny who I really am?"

Givaudron bowed his head humbly.

Angron turned his head and stared at Arianto's face: "What's your name?"

"my name?"

Arianto suddenly laughed: "You ask me, my name? Noble lord, could it be that you have forgotten who I am? I am one of the two thousand people who were besieged by you! Istvan III What happened on board, what you did with your own hands...how dare you forget?!"

Angron frowned: "Istvan III?"

Givaudan's lips moved. He usually has no waves in the ancient well, and his face like a stubborn stone has a rare expression at this time: "That was... a betrayal. Your lord."

He narrated in a low voice: "In the beginning it was a virus bomb, which Horus detonated in the atmosphere with a light spear. We had to hide in the bunker and wait for the constant firestorm to pass, at the cost of the whole of Isth. The six billion mortals on Tevan III are dead."

"Then they came down from the sky. We didn't have heavy fire, he came with the men himself, and the betrayer came down from the gunboat with him - after the strafing. Our men were dead and wounded, but Captain Erlen was sane. , he told us to engage in trench warfare. We only had 2,000 men, and he had a full 5,000 men and countless heavy firepower."

Talking about the past, Giva Doren's face finally brought hatred: "He swore to fight with us! However... But at the beginning of this battle, he decided to send us to the ground. , to kill them all. Like a child running over an ant in a sand table."

"He!" Arianto growled. "What him? Him?!"

He raised his hand tremblingly and pointed at Angron: "You're going to use 'you'! Use that term, Givaudon, stupid Givaudon! What's wrong with your brain? Become and those Are mutants only able to refer to themselves in the third person?"

The one-eyed Astarte yelled at Angron: "You did it! Coward! Slave! You can't join up with this traitor to confuse my mind, you are all the same! God, I really hope you Die in Nukeria!"

What kind of hatred could have made him say that he wished his genetic father died in Nukeria?

Angron's mood was unexpectedly calm, he was not angry, only pity - what did that monster do to you?

"I am not the object of your imaginary hatred that you accumulated 10,000 years of anger and hatred." Angron said solemnly. "Not the sad tyrant you know."

He crossed his arms: "I am Angron, yes, but not the one you know. I come from another world, and I have never betrayed."

"My lord!" Jivaldoren looked at him in shock.

"Why not?"

Angron turned his head to look at him and asked back: "Why can't I tell these loyalists my true identity? Could someone stop this? They have been loyal for 10,000 years and have been tortured in pain and hatred. Ten thousand years, facing the doubts in the empire, but also facing the swords of my former brothers. If I don't tell them the truth, what am I?"

"The intent of the attack fades, and the defenses are lifted."

The center of the circle interrupted them untimely, blue light flashed, and Targaryen, who was standing stiffly, fell to the ground and began to breathe heavily.

Givaudan knew how he felt. Once, when he and Ezekiel's team were training against each other, because he did not report it, the center of the circle also took defensive measures. They were frozen for a full five minutes, and even with superhuman resilience, it took half an hour to recover afterward.

It's definitely not a good experience. Both the will and the body continue to function. They want to respond but can't move. It's like the body is dead. But your brain is still working tirelessly to issue commands to your body—commands that cannot be received, which is a terrifying feeling for a warrior.

"...Wait a minute, Arianto."

Targaryen was panting weakly, and the freezing just now seemed to make his sequelae a little better. At least now he no longer urgently needs a special sedative provided by the Inquisition, and his reason has returned to his brain again. When not sick, Targaryen is much more sane than Arianto most of the time.

"Don't worry, at least I think if they want to do something to us, we won't have a chance to live until now."

Taking a deep breath again, he refused Arianto's help. Targaryen stood up by himself, the old power armor buzzing: "...you say you are from another world, what do you mean?"

"literal meaning."

"Fine, I have a few questions."

"Ask." Angron nodded solemnly. "I'll try my best to answer your questions."

"If what you're saying is true...in that world...us. How are we?"

The ancient war dog from the past said this sentence with a trembling voice. Ten thousand years of blood and tears are all concentrated in these short words. Angron did not dodge or evade, facing his gaze, calmly, Word for word: "I'm proud of them."

"From the moment I came back, I knew I would be proud of them. Disciplined, with strength but no transgression, honor was always in my heart. They did, and not only made me proud of them, the Empire Our people also see them as heroes and protectors, but not gods. We are liberators, not idols.”

"Great," Targaryen muttered. "Great, even if it's a demon's vision..."

He turned his head to look at Arianto, with a smile that was worse than crying: "What do you think, brother? If our fate is not like this, can we be what he said?"

Arianto did not speak.

Just when they were all silent, Angron raised his head. He looked at the center of the magic circle flashing blue light on the ceiling, and suddenly gritted his teeth and said: "If you have watched enough... Are you helping them with your snack hand?"

"Don't slander me, Angron, we are in such a ghost place now, how can we have snacks?"

The mage flashed in the center of the room, with a smile that couldn't be concealed on his face: "Besides, I didn't watch the show."

"Didn't watch the show? Then why did you come over as soon as I mentioned you?" Angron asked with a sneer.

"How dare I take the call of a Primarch lightly?"

"You are still a living saint!"

"A false name, just a false name." He Shenyan still smiled, and then immediately opened the topic. "I already know the problem of these two monks. The ones who removed the butcher's nails...the Dark Eldar, well, let's call them the Dark Eldar."

When it comes to business, he immediately became serious: "They are obviously not skilled, and the traces of witchcraft are still left in your brain. The butcher's nail body was violently removed, and your so-called sequelae include brain damage. It is also because the dark powers left over from witchcraft are haunting the brain."

He Shenyan began to talk eloquently: "For a layman who has seen a ghost, I despise this kind of two knives that can be used casually with little knowledge. It's disgusting..."

"Can't you just say the main point?" Angron sighed heavily.

"The point?"

He Shenyan looked at him inexplicably: "The point is that I can cure it, what's so difficult about it?"

"Then why do you say such a long list?"

The Master shrugged: "People have to find something to despise when they live in the world. We all need to store some sense of superiority in our hearts to survive, don't we? I can't be exempt, you have to let me express my mind, after all, they do It was really bad."

Angron didn't know what to say for a while.

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Lying on the cold operating table, Arianto was a little nervous for no reason. The complete stranger Angron said that this man was a living saint, and he and Targaryen did not believe it. Until they saw the phantom of the golden glow behind He Shenyan, the two of them looked at each other and immediately decided to believe it now.

I can't believe it.

However, his nervousness had nothing to do with He Shenyan. His nervousness stemmed from the fact that Angron, the Lord of Red Sand standing beside them, stood between the two operating tables with his arms crossed, watching He Shenyan solemnly preparing the surgical instruments, and from time to time gave them encouraging glances .

So weird. Arianto thought, am I really not in a vision? Angron is trying to console us?

"Aren't you a mage?"

"Yes what's the matter?"

"Then why do you... prepare these surgical instruments?" Angron's eyelids twitched. He Shenyan was using magic power to make a series of medical instruments such as scalpels and surgical hammers. However, considering that Aspen For the size of the tarts, the enlarged implements would be more appropriate to be called torture implements.

"I can't do a craniotomy for them, can I? They can't stand it if you can bear it."

"No... I mean, can't you just solve this with a spell?"

"Unfortunately, no."

When it comes to related majors, He Shenyan can always give you a lot of convincing explanations.

"I think so too, but I can't. The brain is the most important organ of human beings, it can even be said that it is not one of them. In the occult, the brain is also called the tree of Kabbalah. The magic is produced from here, although I do not I know who came up with the cruel technology of the butcher's nail, but the designer who deserves a thousand knives slapped the butcher's nail with the mystery."

"I won't tell you more about this, anyway, you can't understand it. Let's talk about the so-called dark spirits, the traces of dark magic they left behind and the brains of these two monks are entangled with each other, I must give The two of you will have a craniotomy and have direct contact with the traces of dark sorcery to remove them."

"Of course, I can also insert my hand directly into your brain, and let you feel what it's like to be held by someone's hand without anesthesia. What do you two think?" He asked with a smile while lying on the ground. Arianto and Targaryen on the operating table.

The two looked at each other again: "No, it's still a craniotomy, my lord, we can stand it."

"Don't worry, it won't hurt." He Shenyan smiled like a spring breeze. "I have anesthesia here."

His narcotics refers to stunning them directly with psychic energy. Angron couldn't bear to look straight away, and decided not to mention the narcotics.

After they all fainted, UU reading www.uukanshu. com He Shenyan threw aside the surgical chainsaw that was going to be used for the craniotomy, stretched out his index finger, and drew a circle on Arianto's scalp, and a gap was automatically opened between his scalp and skull, and even No bloodshed.

"Don't you need a scalpel at all?!" Seeing this, Angron couldn't help roaring in a low voice.

"It's just a sense of ceremony...don't talk."

There were two golden lights in He Shenyan's eyes, and a golden light extended from his index finger, slowly crawling to the top of Arianto's still trembling brain. There are many defects in his brain, but fortunately, they are all on the surface, so it is not difficult to repair. The real hard things are behind.

He closed his eyes, and the dark psionic traces of witchcraft opened a tiny warp crack in the monk's brain. As we all know, witchcraft is an evil ritual invented by people without psionic power to communicate with the warp. In essence, it is actually to open a small opening in the material realm through sacrifice or cruel ritual to borrow the psionic power in the warp. .

And now... there's such a small opening in Brother Arianto's brain, from which the energy of the warp is escaping continuously.

He Shenyan's expression became gloomy: "I take back their evaluation that they are not good at learning - it's not bad to do such a thing without hurting your mind and life."

His voice was soft, but he gritted his teeth: "How many people have to die to have such a skill?"

Angron pursed his lips. He didn't know anything about psionics, but judging from the mage's expression and words, he could somewhat know the current situation.

The Lord of Red Sand took a deep breath: "Can it be cured?"

"Fortunately I'm here." He Shenyan glanced at him. "For someone else, these two should be labeled as heretics and executed immediately."