Chapter 88 Hellstorm (Part 1)

Perturabo knew something was going to happen.

Ever since Magnus had discussed with the scholars about banning psychic powers, he had been acutely aware of an unusual tributary in the turbulent flow of Prospero's fate, which was being particularly prominent under the guidance of the rocks and sand.

He just didn't know how the accident would come.

Thanks to the fact that the body created by Morse was just a combination of energy in human form, Perturabo could run between the bookshelves at a speed that would permanently damage the muscles and bones of ordinary people.

A few days were enough for him to understand the structure of the entire building clearly - in fact, he had already done this after Magnus led him to visit half of the library on his first day.

So he realized very clearly that the layout of this space had changed.

After the loud bang of the crystal chandelier falling to the ground, followed by a large number of explosions and screams, psychic power swept through the entire library like a torrent, until it was bound by the solid spell on the glass exterior wall, forming a huge reactor.

The passage in front of Perturabo changed into an extremely narrow and long one. Silver light flowed inside the marble floor tiles that turned into crystals. Runes emerged from everywhere, flashing vividly with the phantom arcs of lightning. Prismatic bonfires rose on the bookshelves, and the storm of subspace matter projected the psychic vortex of the real universe behind the curtain.

The vision appeared so naturally that Perturabo even felt that all kinds of strangeness had existed here for a long time, and now it was unveiled like peeling off the outer layer of weathered rock crust, showing the mysterious brilliance that had been waiting for a long time inside.

He had stopped running, because the act of continuing to rush into it after seeing the vision contained the dangerous image of resolute commitment, and the ritual meaning was the most beloved caller of the vast ocean waves.

——Magnus did not build the Great Library of Tizca.

Perturabo picked out a piece of information suitable for this moment from his vast network of thoughts. The scene of the red giant standing under the glass window of the Great Library of Tizca, which reflected thousands of bright sunlight, proudly introducing his city reappeared in his mind. "...We have always had this library," the young giant said, "I did not rebuild the whole of Tizca."

The City of Light, the last crystal nail that nailed Prospero to the edge of destruction. Before the descendants of the Emperor fell from the sky like a brilliant meteor, Tizca already had the reputation of the City of Light.

Sooner or later, he would ask Magnus what the territory of this great library used to be.

Perturabo turned around, and there were several burnt black marks on his torn robe. When he stopped running, the countdown started when the scholar caught up with him.

The time they arrived here today was just before Perturabo was about to leave. If it was delayed for another thirty minutes, no one would be able to discover the inferior plan of these arrogant scholars today.

The item that the scholars wanted to steal was also what Magnus had introduced to Perturabo earlier. He knew the item so well that once the item was in his hands, he even knew how to dismantle it quickly and efficiently to crush the enemy's ambition.

Many coincidences and sudden enlightenment seemed to be favored by fate. The god of luck gently dropped the flowers and fruits representing good luck from the clouds and landed at Perturabo's feet.

If he seized the opportunity, with the help of the indestructible, especially tough body that Mors had built for him, which was not damaged at all in the psychic fire just now, and had a unique deal with the enemy, could he kill the crisis directly in its infancy?

At a time when Magnus was still unable to deal with his psychic abnormality, Mors went to Terra, and the Emperor ran to the Solar Segmentum to do something unknown, was there another person in the entire Prospero who was capable of solving this unknown crisis?

A row of bookshelves fell down in the vibration of psychic energy, blocking Perturabo's way, even though he had no intention of moving forward. This place almost formed a natural stronghold, inviting Perturabo to stay here and show his talents.

The part of his genes related to fighting began to cheer, and an area of ​​his mind also smoothly conceived a number of continuous moves to deal with scholars in the blink of an eye - their psychic energy was powerful and irresistible, but their almost non-existent fighting skills would completely waste their talents, not to mention the severe physical weakness caused by these scholars who were no longer young.

He was a warrior, and his enemy was not.

The psychic dust stirred up by the collapsed bookshelves gradually dissipated, and Perturabo stood in the middle of the aisle with a serious face.

The noisy sound was approaching, and if he wanted to defend effectively, he had to use the resources here, yes, such as countless books covered with psychic film, such as crystal bookshelves and silver ladders. He had to start laying traps, using tricks, leaving snares...

Perturabo suddenly closed his eyes and shook his head violently, clearing all the sudden thoughts that had just popped up, and also expelling the faint words in his ears.

He was fantasizing about the enemy's position, in the core area of ​​the City of Light, using the unknown things he had, and getting into a fierce battle with a group of psychics who controlled countless spells?

This was no longer even in the category of arrogance and impracticality, it was stupidity.

Perturabo made a new decision.

He used his will to hook the small hook that Morse had set in advance in this young body, and sent his thoughts back from Prospero to the Iron Warriors' fleet neatly.

In the time of a thought, the other him had learned everything that was happening here and merged with this part of his consciousness.

At the same time, countless golden ancient runes emerged on the boy's body, and pure and flawless golden fire ignited on the runes, disintegrating the corresponding substances into the essence of energy inch by inch.

This was Morse's self-destruction setting for the body to prevent any trouble. There was no need for Morse to personally help him transmit the fragments of consciousness. The spell would use the energy in the body itself to cross the galaxy, open a one-time channel for him to return, and kill two birds with one stone to drain the body itself and shatter the form of this thing in the material universe.

Apart from the torn cloth robe he bought locally in Tizca and the black ember like charcoal that was inevitably burned by the golden fire of the spell on the evil crystal ground, Perturabo would not leave anything for a group of psychics.

At the other end of the distant galaxy, the Lord of Iron opened his eyes that were colder than the glacier and looked expressionlessly in the direction of Prospero.

He did not explain anything superfluous to the officers around him, and skillfully ignored the curiosity that was already well hidden on his warrior's face.

"Prepare the Subspace... No, accelerate from the real universe and head to Prospero as soon as possible." He paused, "Get the turret and torpedo tube system ready in advance, but don't load ammunition. Just highlight the appearance of the weapon for now. Also, contact Terra immediately to ask if Morse has arrived."