Emperor's Bane

Chapter 131 Reunion

The Knight King of Caliban had not rested even once for four full months, ever since he had gained all authority over this war, and held them tightly, in the bloodiest light of the galaxy.

He had at last what he wanted: all the responsibility, all the trust, all the hardships and allegiances, now in his hands.

As for what the price is, how much, where, when, and what extra things need to be paid by him, he doesn't care about all of these.

In his eyes, now there is only a burning galaxy.

The Lion of Caliban left behind the lines of defense that he had painstakingly managed in the east of the galaxy for several years, and left the rich or empty star regions to those bewildered auxiliaries and world governors. Those who are really unimportant or worthless are even discarded. Except for a few hundred trustworthy dark angels entrusted by him to those remote worlds with important secrets and relics, Jonson has already gathered in his hands. All the forces of the Inner Circle, whether veterans of the Inner Ring or newcomers to Caliban, must join this cruelest war.

The Primarch even prepared for a long tug-of-war: he called one of his most trusted characters, his left hand: Luther, to his side, facing the man who was fully armed and ready to go to the front line The former adoptive father gave the highest order.

Luthor would not follow the First Legion to the front line with Randan. He was sent back to Caliban by special order to recruit as many recruits as possible for the Dark Angels Legion, to ensure that even the most tragic sacrifice occurred among the stars. Among them, the First Legion can persist until the completion of the emperor's entrustment.

Even Jonson himself couldn't confirm whether this order was completely rational. Maybe in a corner of the Primarch's heart, he instinctively didn't want Luthor to be more tainted by such a terrible war.

But soon, he convinced himself with reason: Luther is indeed suitable for this job. During the years of fierce battle with Ran Dan, he has indeed taken care of all the logistical work in an orderly manner, and under such special circumstances, He really needs a trustworthy person to sit on the home planet for him to complete the mission and suppress dissatisfaction.

The Primarch knew there had been discontent in Caliban.

He will deal with them, but now is not the time: the Great Crusade is still going on, the restoration of humanity is not complete, and Caliban still has more to do for the Empire.

So Jonson gave that order.

He vaguely remembered that when he called Luther to him and gave the order, there seemed to be some changes on Luther's face.

Johnson didn't look carefully.

He has more important things to do.

And he was sure that Luthor was worthy of his trust.

Just as he thought, Luther didn't have any complaints in the end. His adoptive father, his right hand, silently accepted the order, took off his armor, and left the large army of the First Legion who was preparing for battle. The fleet, with only one small boat, disappeared into the sea of ​​stars.

After finishing all this, Johnson turned around and led his legion again, leaving the haze in the eastern part of the galaxy and plunged into the blood fog in the northern part of the galaxy.

Luther's gloomy and distorted face always flashed in his mind inadvertently.

But without exception.

He never cared.

Luther, always trustworthy.

------

Thinking of this, the Primarch felt a bit of regret.

If his blood relative hadn't temporarily left because of the warp space storm caused by Ran Dan, maybe he could ask her to convey these words to Luthor, she was always better at words than he was.

He didn't always like these things either.

------

Johnson opened his eyes.

His mind was separated from the short memories and emotions: these things took him less than a second, and now, all his energy returned to the only thing he cared about even if he looked at the entire galaxy: war, Endless war.

The King of Knights of Caliban clicked on the star map in front of him.

Once again, the flames of war of thousands of universes appeared in front of his eyes with incomparable clarity.

In Zhuang Sen's emerald green pupils.There are tens of millions of scarlet lights reflected, each of which symbolizes a bloody war, a tragic defeat, or the fall of a world.

Repeatedly and endlessly, it is as if thousands of howling people are hung upside down on the top of the iron cage covered with thorns. Every time they struggle, they will only shed more blood, and finally leave this picture on the ground. Distorted painting.

Such thoughts flashed through the mind of the Lion of Caliban, he frowned, and fell into a deep sullen rage because of the bloody desire that interfered with his thinking, he subconsciously touched his dry skin , feel that your beard can become a little too long, even barbaric.

Maybe he needs to be released.

Johnson thought so.

A release, a kill, an opportunity he was waiting for, for example, if his [Indomitable Truth] was attacked by surprise, any attack would be fine, he could pick up his long sword and pistol, and chop off some heads, some Alien or enemy head.

He does need some killing right now, even if it's just for a break.

Zhuang Sen raised his other hand and covered his face. He felt that the skin between his five sense organs was getting old, dry and rough. His ears were still dutifully capturing the surrounding voices: There are always more voices roaming the room.

He heard the sound of more messages pouring into the screen from the distant stars, each screech bringing one or more bad news, just as every dawn brings bad news from far away.

He heard all kinds of footsteps in every corner of the room: his sons, mortals, officials, military officers, envoys of Terra...

There is always bad news, there is always asking for help, there is always questioning, and there are always more troubles and doubts rushing towards him all the time: no one is willing to bear all this, so when someone stands up, he should bear all the burden. problems, with additional accusations.

Everyone was looking at him, questioning him, and whispering.

he knows.

He knew Horus and his tangled little thoughts, the wolf god always wanted more, he was entrenched in the west of the galaxy, but he was full of thoughts thinking about things in the north of the galaxy.

He knew his other brothers: whether it was Leman Russ, Mortarion, or the ethereal Great Khan, they all looked at him with the eyes of a freak, and he was sure of this, because he also Looking at them with the same eyes.

He knew the mortals: those from holy Terra, from the front lines, from every supply world and shipping hub, from every inch of shadow in the lower decks of his glorious queen, those mortals who whispered, Discussing in a low voice, watching his every move from the shadows with suspicious and questioning eyes.

They doubted his motives.

They mocked his abilities.

They questioned his methods.

They avoided those responsibilities and burdens hastily, and then stood proudly beside the executor, commenting wantonly, letting their words cover the voice of hard work, and suddenly became the truth.

He knew they would do it.

And he...

------

Zhuang Sen put down his hand, and once again revealed his face in front of his heirs, his subordinates, and everyone.

That face that was originally the most majestic, the most perfect, and the most solemn, can only be described as haggard now.

Before the Randan War broke out, when Jonson had just returned to Holy Terra from the forests of Caliban, he had walked in his father's palace.Handle court chores for him.

At that time, all the officials dared not look him in the eyes, soldiers and guards dressed around him in awe, and every word about his face and state could not be separated from seriousness, holiness and nobility.

But now, those words no longer apply to him.

The pupils of the Lion of Caliban have been completely occupied by scarlet bloodshot eyes, his beard is like a mass of the most savage straw, occupying his chin, lips and more cheeks savagely, his skin is thin and Pale, with deep-set eyes, a little dark under the shadow of his eyebrows, when he raised his head and looked at the star map or his heir.His face looks so thin that people can see clear bones.

It’s not that no one has reminded him: Coswayne asked him to take a break several times, even after he explicitly prohibited it, he still took the risk of contradicting him and repeatedly mentioned it; Mentioned it twice, and kept silent after he clearly refused; even Luthor, in his letters, hesitated, and then mentioned in a somewhat cryptic way that he hoped he could take a break, because he passed from the front The news came back about the Primarch's sleepless months.

But when facing Luther, he was much more skilled. In the next contact, he took a few seconds to warn Luther to focus all his energy on Caliban and not to worry about anything else.

None of them could convince him.

No one can convince him.

Under the haggard face, deep sunken eyes and dead breath, the still sharp, terrifying and extremely sharp gaze in the pupils of the Caliban lion is the only one who is still telling the story of the Primarch and kept calm and peaceful at all times. The best evidence of careful thought.

------

And he...

He doesn't care.

------

Anyone, no matter how arrogant his pride and stubbornness are, when he looks at the Primarch, he will realize something from the bottom of his heart: at this moment, Jonson is still the incomparably powerful Caliban Behemoth killer.Still the great marshal worthy of the Emperor entrusting half the galaxy.

He wasn't broken.

He will never be broken.

after all.

He doesn't care.

He already got what he wanted.

He has got everything he desires.

------

Jonson from Caliban turned him, and he felt something.

In the next second, the door of the room slowly opened, and the once too noisy voices seemed to have quieted down. They were still noisy, but this time, the noise was just right.

Zhuang Sen saw it, he saw that silver figure: some too long hair, blue pupils, always with that rather dead smile, slender arms, slim curves, she pretended to be As strong and tall as a Primarch, he just stayed in his legion at will.

Leave at will and return at will.

She was still wearing the armor he had given her, the solid black armor, which seemed to have been in good repair.

Jonson just looked at her.

The Primarch of the First Legion snorted, his lips murmured as if to say something, but said nothing in the end.

Zhuang Sen just quietly watched the silver-haired lady walk over slowly.

Passed by those dark angels and mortals standing silently and solemnly.

came to his side.

Morgan, come back.

------

She smiled, and slowly came to the Primarch's side, then raised her head, and when she saw the somewhat wild face of the Primarch, she frowned indiscernibly, but soon, Morgan Then he stretched out a shallow smile again, a cold smile.

And her breathing was equally icy, a cool sound that even made Jonson feel that the long-lost efficient work was worthy of it.

Jonson looked at her without saying a word.

They just stood at the innermost end of the room, surrounded only by the workbench in front of them and the mottled stars, those busy mortals were left behind by them, and seemed so far away from them.Let the Primarch and his blood relatives feel as if they are in a private space.

Morgan walked in front of the Primarch of the First Legion. She looked at her brother after a long absence, then stretched out a hand and put it on Jonson's armor that had accumulated some dust and stains. One could feel a refreshing power gathering in her palm, and with the random rotation of a thought in her mind, this power covered the whole body of the Primarch of the First Legion in an instant.

In the blink of an eye, the Primarch's armor became as bright as new, his face became solemn again, his beard was no longer unruly, and even his pupils became brighter and more eye-catching.

In a trance, the imperial commander who looked like an old lion disappeared, and was replaced by a knight king of Caliban who was enough to make anyone have confidence and pursuit of victory from the depths of his heart.

During this period, Jonson remained silent.

He just kept quiet, letting the spells of his blood relatives cleanse his body of the exhaustion and dust accumulated over the past few months.

And when Morgan finally finished all this, he lowered his head, looked at his blood relatives again, saw her casually looking at his armor, then stretched out a hand silently, and grabbed Jonson The legion articles and pendants that symbolized honor on the chest, some of them were scattered and rearranged neatly.

Zhuang Sen waited quietly for her to finish all this, and then a low hoarse voice spit out from his throat.

【came back. 】

Morgan looked up and smiled.

【came back. 】

(End of this chapter)