Warhammer 40k: Shattered Steel Soul

When Harkon walked into the workshop, Kaliphon frowned slightly without leaving any trace.

She put down her hand that was supporting her cheek, stood up from the small wooden chair that Andos made for her, casually stroked the hem of her skirt, and greeted her eldest brother.

Harkon narrowed his eyes and gave the princess a fake friendly smile. This made his face appear discordant wrinkles, just like his skin was smiling while the muscles inside were contracting disdainfully.

The hypocrisy of the eldest prince was like a colorful snake. Kaliphon didn't like it, never liked it.

"Andos is working." She said softly, "The time for the competition is almost up."

Harkon stared at his sister for a few seconds, trying hard to force a little fear out of her frozen mask-like smile.

When he had to accept his failure, Harkon turned his head nonchalantly, waved to Andos, and then strode towards an upright stone statue in the workshop.

"I came to see you, Andos." Harkon said with a smile, "It's fine if that boy lives in the city, but why do you live in the wilderness? Your father's palace can no longer satisfy you?"

The edge of his silk robe proudly scraped across the countertop of the workshop and hooked the porcelain statue of the god of war; then, the statue fell to the ground.

Kaliphon was quick-witted and caught the falling device. When he put it back on the table, he deliberately controlled the force and knocked the table with its hard bottom.

Harkon was frightened by the sudden "bang" and stumbled forward.

Kaliphon smiled, touched the helmet of the small ornament with his fingers, and said to the ornament like comforting a child: "Our god of war is angry."

Halkon pretended not to hear it. He walked to the nearly completed stone statue and clapped his hands, "Andos, how are you preparing? Have you finished carving?"

Behind the flowing silk robe of the stone statue, a figure came out slowly.

The image of the stone statue was still reflected in Andos's eyes and the sweat on his forehead. Part of his spirit and soul was always immersed in the long carving process, while the other part was withdrawing from the vortex of art, driving the real body to fulfill the extra obligations given to an independent individual by ethics and etiquette.

"The statue will never be completed." Andos said, "Every repair will bring more flaws... but I'm almost ready."

He couldn't help but correct Harkon's words, and then the natural respect for his brother surged in his heart, making him quickly retract his unfinished words with guilt and answer Harkon's questions.

"Very good." Harkon clapped his hands, "You have always brought glory to your father. It is a real honor to have you as my brother."

Andos thanked silently, opened his mouth, and didn't know what to say more.

"Thank you..."

"You will win, my brother." Harkon held Andos's free hand eagerly. His expectations and the anxiety hidden underneath made Andos, who had been living by the fire for a long time, feel unbearable.

Cariphon held the statue of the god of war in her palm, using the observation of the fine color differences on this work of art to hide her thoughts.

She was too used to Harkon's unreasonable anxiety.

Whether it was the pressure of being the eldest son or the natural ambition, what she saw was a tyrant's eldest son who, after decades of time, used all the smooth silks, gorgeous crowns and enhanced majesty to cover up his innate lack of talent.

The first time she witnessed how power and honor destroyed a person with good nature was on her eldest brother.

Cariphon's thumb brushed the spear-holding hand of the statue of the god of war.

She didn't mind assisting Harkon one day in the future, but that would only be out of attachment to Lokos.

Andos's nose wrinkled with nervousness, and his eyes moved from the grasped hand up to Harkon's face.

He stated honestly: "I don't know, Harkon... I didn't know until I saw Perturabo's work."

"The holy boy made the whole city know about your competition."

The slight tremor of Harkon's muscles silently revealed his unique uneasiness.

"This month, he searched every stonemason in the capital, and those craftsmen were looking forward to his visit before he arrived. The child walked into the workshop, empty-handed, and left with the tools given by the craftsmen for free, and the praise that would spread throughout the city. It was a fact known to the whole country that the son of the gods from the mountains and the prince of the tyrant would have a duel of skills."

"So... I can't lose?" Andos asked, quietly pulling his hand away from his elder brother.

His hands were born to hold the tools of creation.

"I don't mean that." Harkon said immediately, and he turned to the side of the stone sculpture, very close to the statue.

Andos hesitated, but still did not persuade his brother away from the things he cherished as he thought in his mind at the first time.

Harkon spoke earnestly, as if he was several generations older than his brother and sister: "When people come to this world, they will inevitably face failure, just like stones will always fall to the ground, and springs will always gather into rivers and lakes. You must learn to accept winning and losing, just like accepting any existing truth in this world. What's more, the one you are about to fight is the descendant of the gods who came down from the snowy mountains to the ground. We are guided by the glory of the gods. Even if we lose to those who are favored by the gods, it is also a truth allowed by heaven and earth."

"But," he changed the topic, lowered his head with affected patience, and looked at Callifon: "In addition to our identity as Olympians serving the gods, we are also the children of Lokos, and we will serve the Lokos people and lead us. The people are responsible for moving towards greater prosperity in this vortex of endless war. If we often expose our failures before gaining the trust of our people, then what face do we have to be the master of a country? Woolen cloth?"

Callifon put down the statue of the God of War and played her role nonchalantly: "Then I wish Andos can win, I sincerely think so."

However, her mind was filled with the countless amazing works of art in Morse and Perturabo's workshop, as well as Morse's playful advice.

In recent days, she had actually exchanged some letters with Morse.

She was the first to boldly send greetings, and the response she received was an unexpected surprise.

She couldn't figure out the true character of the man in black through a few pieces of paper, but it didn't matter that she was indeed attracted by his few words.

She knew that if she had the chance to meet those two people alone next time, she would definitely try to call Lord Perturabo first and then Lord Morse.

Harkon received a satisfactory answer and couldn't wait to show his sincerity to Andos. "My words have not offended you, have I, my brother?"

Andos's eyes no longer linger on his works. His sculptures are smiling compassionately and happily, while Andos has completely returned to reality. His sad heart no longer allows him to indulge in creation.

"It is you, brother, who will become the master of a country," Andos said. "How will my losing or winning harm your face? What's more, as you said... people will definitely face failure when they come to this world."

Harkon shook his head.

"Three days later, both the skilled craftsmen of Lokos, the distinguished guests from foreign countries, and even some of the citizens of Lokos will watch your duel with Perturabo. Andos, you are my cherished brother. , our glory is deeply connected by our blood.”

"Did they come uninvited?" Kalifon suddenly asked.

Harkon's pride was shattered by the questioning, his smile turned into pain due to gloom, and an angry shadow enveloped him, making the man look sharp and cold.

"I invited them," he declared stiffly. "I bless you, my brother, and my sister."

After Harcon left, Andos did not return to work. He sat down on the ground and looked at his statue in silence.

Callifon asked softly: "Is this the goddess Hephoni?"

Andos nodded.

Hephonia, the goddess of life, is the chief god of Olympians' renaming ceremony when they come of age.

She names the child of Olympia, embraces the soul that has just arrived in this world, and blesses the child's welcome new life in this vast world.

"I actually want Perturabo to win," Andos said.

Callifon stared at the mask of the statue. Just being stared at by the stone statue, she felt a sourceless emotion in her heart.

"Can he win?"

"If he's not improved from where he was a month ago ... he can't."

Callifon knew her brother was never arrogant. He is humble, gentle, few words, and always honest.

So she smiled and sat down again.

"I bless you both," she said.