Emperor's Bane

Chapter 697: Dawnbreaker's Japanese and Casualty Report

"Yes, I understand."

"In addition to the original itinerary, we will draw up a list of the Primarch's guards for future visits to the Endurance. The Ultramarines and their Primarchs will be traveling with us, so the number of people can be limited to fifteen, and the Librarians should be excluded as much as possible."

"Yes, I know. I will also prepare the corresponding breathing filtration equipment."

"Is there anything else besides this: the Primarch wants casualty figures on Ullanor?"

"No problem, I'll send it over right away."

"..."

"call--"

He took off the pager hanging on his cochlea, put it in front of his eyes, and stared at it carefully until the last ray of light was extinguished: After doing all this, Morgan's chief of guards, who was actually the second-in-command of the entire Dawnbreaker Corps, breathed a sigh of relief, and a few drops of sweat slid from his temples into his armor.

"Why are you so nervous, Lana?"

Such an obvious abnormality naturally could not escape the eyes of his companions, especially Hector, who was now walking side by side with Rana and had already proudly branded the first golden service nail on his forehead: as an armored behemoth that was more than twice as tall as an ordinary battle brother, Morgan's pride's service nail was naturally astonishingly large, just the size of the eye sockets of other battle brothers.

He was caressing the nail as a miser would caress his gold coins: for an Astartes warrior, nothing could gain everyone's respect more immediately than a few golden service nails.

If you can get two golden service spikes hammered into your head, even the Primarch will stop and listen carefully to your advice: the same is true in the Dawnbreaker Legion.

In this culture that is not recorded in any written dictionary but is only passed down orally within the Legion, the Dawnbreakers have always followed their big brother, the solid and reliable Dark Angels. So the nails on their foreheads are the same as those of the Dark Angels, with a silver nail representing fifty years or a gold nail representing a hundred years.

There are two gold nails and one silver nail on Lana's forehead, and he is accumulating his third gold nail. His situation best represents the current situation of the vast majority of Terran veterans in the Dawnbreaker Legion: However, Hector heard that in the mysterious Primarch's Guards, there is indeed more than one old monster who has three gold nails on his forehead.

He even heard that there was an ultimate old monster with four golden nails in it: but this should be pure rumor.

The most orthodox chronicles of the empire have not even covered four hundred years: let alone some legends that don't even have names.

Of course, no one knew the specific names of the Primarch's guards: being able to become the Primarch's personal guard was undoubtedly the highest honor in this ancient legion. Morgan naturally never thought of depriving the names of the powerful heirs who could obtain these honors, but the Legion Council and the Primarch's guards united and rarely refuted the Primarch's idea.

This somewhat helpless situation finally ended with the Primarch's concession: except for Lana, the Grand Steward of the Guards, all the Morgan Guards temporarily concealed their names and mountains of past achievements, and the relevant files were classified as top confidential documents until they died gloriously in battle. The files would then be decrypted, and the contents would be transformed into praises for a legendary warrior and engraved on their monuments.

But in addition to this, these nameless warriors will also receive more compensation: they are clad in Terminator armor that can only be made with the personal guidance of the Primarch; they hold nameless blades bestowed by Morgan himself that can cause effective damage to the Primarch; their bodies are covered with psychic power-enhancing decorations bestowed by Morgan based on each person's habits and combat habits, and their unique martial arts are an iconic proof of this.

All of this ensures one thing: if leaders like Morgan, Lana, and Virgo suddenly lose contact, everyone in the Dawnbreakers knows who they need to find to serve as the temporary manager of the Legion in order to avoid the greatest potential threat posed by the single-core overclocked operating system that Avalon currently relies on.

Of course, these problems are still far away from Hector today. Although he is recognized as the future of the legion, considering the particularity of the Sons of Morgan: the threshold of the phrase "The future is yours" is estimated to extend to the day when he gets the second gold service nail on his forehead.

But by then, the Aurora might be covered with four golden nails.

Hector muttered a few words in his heart, and glanced at the chief guard who was facing a formidable enemy: he had witnessed with his own eyes the scene of Morgan's most trusted son confronting three orc warriors at the same time on Ullanor, and Lana was not as nervous as he is now.

How strange...

He thought so and asked.

"Isn't it Virgo? We met her a few days ago. She is indeed a little girl who is deeply trusted by her mother. But you don't need to be so nervous. Are you afraid that she will say bad things about you in front of the Primarch?"

"That's not the case: our genetic mother is not so ignorant of right and wrong."

Rana put away the communicator, thinking about the new task assigned to him by the Primarch through Virgo, while answering Hector's questions in a clear and logical manner: the brain and lips were processing two completely opposite things, but there was no confusing reaction.

It is said that after each Primarch has led his own legion for a long time, he will have a subtle influence on his descendants, making them become more like himself: and Morgan's performance in this regard is that the current Dawnbreaker senior and even middle-level officers can more or less achieve a certain degree of multi-tasking and have learned to handle problems in multiple threads.

"What really made me nervous was the little girl's tone, or attitude."

Lana stroked his chin, seeming a little unsure of his own opinion.

"I don't know if it's my illusion, but after spending so much time together, I feel that the little girl's gestures are becoming more and more like our genetic mother. I have also seen other so-called primarch maids, but I have never felt this in them."

"It's not a bad thing, but every time she speaks to me in an almost commanding tone, I instinctively feel that I am talking to the Primarch, and then I will adopt a corresponding attitude: I suspect this may be the effect of some kind of psychic power."

"Doesn't she have psychic powers?"

"Who knows: technically she's not even supposed to be alive."

Rana sighed, mourning his own miserable situation: he had been with the Primarch for nearly a hundred years, yet he always felt as if he knew nothing about his mother, either about her as a person or about the strange... household items around her.

Whether it was Virgo, who was becoming increasingly unfathomable in his eyes; or the little robed man who looked like an alien but had a fixed food bowl in the Primarch's room; or Sergeant Trazyn, who had always been favored by the Primarch but never revealed his true identity and had never been promoted; and the pet cat who had long exceeded the biological lifespan limit, looked half-dead every day, but had been half-dead for almost half a century.

Every time I walked into the Principal's office, it was like walking into a living, fantasy forest-themed museum.

After much thought, the most reassuring person in the entire Primarch's office is actually the Midnight Haunter who recently likes to sit on the sweeping robot and is working hard to defeat the robed man in the glass bead game, and the Lord of Ravens who is occasionally pulled over by the Midnight Haunter to stay up late and play games together in the name of relieving stress.

This kind of home environment made him start to worry about the Primarch's mental health, and even physical health: after all, the food expenses of the Legion's [Inner Ring] that were recently registered in his name had been decreasing at a rate visible to the naked eye, and several restaurants even sent people to check on him as an [old customer] to see if there was any problem.

Hi...Hey, wait?
Lana seemed to remember something.

Dining room……

The Grand Steward stopped and turned to look at the road sign not far away: these things, which seemed completely useless to the Astartes warriors, were very common on the Aurora, because the internal design of this battleship largely took into account the living conditions of its millions of mortal crew members.

Over time, the Dawnbreakers learned to coexist with these useless things: after all, they could occasionally become useful.

Like now.

"We are now on the main road leading to the Third Daughter's Hall, right?"

"Yes."

Hector took a step forward, and the huge shadow covered the three-meter-high sign, easily pointing out their location.

"The Hall of the Three Daughters is one of the main transportation hubs on this ship, and is also almost the most important public activity area. Its main parts are three public squares that are open 24 hours a day: Lady Euton Square, Kelly Fanny Square, and Cassia Square. The first two are close friends of the Primarch, and the latter is not only a close friend of the Primarch, but also the Grand Navigator of the entire 23rd Expeditionary Fleet."

"I know all this."

Lana nodded.

"I mean: the dining street is to the left of the Third Daughter's Hall, right?"

"It's ten minutes away from us."

"That's perfect: let's go to the restaurant street before heading to the Camlan Council Chamber."

"What are you going to do there? There's still a full two hours until dinner time."

"I have something to confirm."

Lana tapped his temple, then motioned for Hector to keep up with him, and the two continued along the main avenue of the ship, the shadow of an iron tower floating across countless paintings and reliefs that boasted of the former glory of the Dawnbreaker Legion: Although they were on the upper deck, the number of mortals here was still far greater than that of the Astartes.

"Rather, there don't seem to be many active battle brothers here today."

When turning a corner, Lana confirmed his guess: there was an arena next to him that was always very popular, but today, except for a few sentries at key locations, he could not see any fighting brothers.

"Of course not much."

Hector next to him was not surprised.

"Have you forgotten that today and tomorrow are the days for the unified entrance examinations of several military colleges in the mortal living area on the lower deck? Every year, tens of thousands of people take part in the exams. Those combat brothers who do not have military missions will be recruited to serve as invigilators during these two days. On average, there are 30 students and 3 teachers in each examination room, so several thousand brothers will be recruited."

"Oh, I remember now."

Lana patted his head.

"However, this is too exaggerated: it is enough to send one brother to each examination room."

"You can never imagine what methods those little brats use to cheat. Let me put it this way. One year, a cheating student is now working in the Primarch's military research department. Another school's candidates even united to build a sensor device on the walls of the entire school. The worst thing is that some candidates worship some weird exam gods before the exam."

"How did you get it?"

"He wrote all the answers on his answer sheet, but the problem was that there were only 33 questions on the test paper, and he wrote 34 answers, which were exactly the same as the 34th question that was deleted during the ordering process. His answer sheet was printed incorrectly, and there was space for the 34th question."

"Is this the most serious?" "At least that's what the Primarch thinks. The punishment for cheating students that year was particularly severe: I remember it was three or five years ago, or at least longer ago. I've never heard of the God of Exams on the lower decks, but it suddenly appeared in recent years, and it seems that there are cheating students like this every year."

Hector was amazed. He and Lana kept the same pace and stepped into the core area of ​​the Queen of Glory one after the other. There were obviously more pedestrians and guards here. Some well-known names in the legion, as well as ordinary people who took advantage of the holiday to come to the upper deck for sightseeing, either alone or with their families, all saluted them, and exchanged their greetings and smiles for the two men's nods.

"I noticed that these mortals seemed to be holding some leaflets in their hands."

Rana's eyes glanced at a little girl who was grinning at him. She was holding a flyer tightly as if she had found a treasure. Printed on it were a string of numbers and symbols, as well as the silhouette of a beautiful mortal woman: even for an Astarte with a heart as gentle as water, the appearance of this mortal lady was absolutely stunning.

"Where are they going?"

The Chief Guard noticed that in the past ten minutes or so, most of the mortals he met were heading in one direction: this was a well-connected ship center, and a total of fifty-five public passages leading to different areas could be found outside the Hall of the Three Daughters.

"These people?"

Hector stretched out his hand and motioned Lana to look at the poster on the wall.

"They should all be in a hurry to attend Ms. Catherine's personal art show. It is said that today's performance will be an opera, divided into six acts, and the total duration is as long as six hours. Art exhibitions like this have been held many times. It is said that there are even officers who take annual leave to watch them."

"Katherine? The narrator?"

"Yes, the blue-haired lady Terra's insights into opera and many other arts are truly unique. There is no one in the entire empire who can rival her. She was an idol of the entire empire as early as twenty years ago. Even in our legion, many battle brothers felt that her choice of us instead of Fulgrim's Third Legion was a great victory for the Dawnbreakers."

"I don't think so."

Lana groaned a few words and glanced at the posters posted everywhere with annoyance.

"Great victories can only be won with blood and sacrifice, not music."

"Who knows?"

"Anyway, Lady Catherine's reputation is really hot during this period. Several soldiers in the Queen's Guards died in duels in order to win her favor and get a date. Most of her works are in praise of the Primarch. I heard that they will soon be included in the music textbooks of the schools on the lower deck."

Hector's indifferent attitude only aggravated Lana's disgust. Although he had no practical reason, based on his instinctive reaction after serving for more than two hundred years, the Chief Guard still felt that something was wrong: perhaps he should suggest to the Mother of Genes to ban these messy so-called cultural performances, or at least limit them to the lower deck.

He was not worried that this matter would cause protests from the mortals on the ship: because this was the biggest difference between Morgan and Guilliman. When faced with real problems, the Spider Queen had the ability to suppress the dissatisfaction in the hearts of the people, and she would never be as indecisive as the Macragge people.

The Grand Steward, in a state of combined worry and complacency, and Hector flashed around a secluded corner. Instead of choosing the busy main road, they plunged into the secret door that was only for fighting brothers to pass through: secret doors like this were scattered throughout the Aurora, ensuring that every area could receive reinforcements from another area within ten minutes.

It's also good for taking shortcuts.

In the dim shortcut, Lana carefully counted the secret doors and the numbers on them that appeared every ten meters or so. After confirming the corresponding numbers, they knocked on the door and walked in: in front of them was a staircase that they had to look up to see, and a combat brother who had just put away his gun.

After saying hello and walking out, you will reach the famous food street, and behind you is an extremely inconspicuous guard booth: guard booths like this are everywhere in every corner of the food street that stretches for several kilometers.

"Cheap and effective means of cover."

Lana smiled, then carefully observed the situation around him: probably because major events that affected the hearts of tens of thousands of people were happening on the upper and lower decks, the restaurant street that was always crowded with people coming and going on weekdays seemed a little deserted today. There were more shop assistants wandering on both sides than customers. These chefs and waiters, who often had dozens of scars on their bodies, were talking about their past achievements with each other.

On the twenty-meter-high ceiling, thousands of fluorescent lights were adjusting their brightness to match the time on the large clock in the distance: the three o'clock bell floated over lazily, as leisurely as the only pedestrians on the street. Looking around, apart from a few couples affectionately chatting on the benches and a few officers doing nothing on their leave, only a small circle farther away attracted attention.

Rana saw from afar a female officer whom he had some impression of, strolling with her two children, about five or six years old. It seemed that one of them thought the skewers in the twin brothers' hands were prettier than those in her own, which led to an argument. The two children sat on the ground in pain, leaving only the mother who was also squatting.

"stop looking."

Somehow, this ordinary scene attracted Rana's attention. Before Hector patted his shoulder, he was immersed in the warmth of the crying and was distracted for almost a minute: a warm feeling that he had never experienced before surged in his heart.

It’s weird.

The Chief Guard touched his forehead: Maybe he hasn't rested for too long?
"Rana, you still haven't told me what the two of us are doing here?"

Hector looked up and counted the restaurants that were still open: perhaps he could treat himself to afternoon tea later.

"Ah, right."

Rana took out a report.

"Let's go to the restaurant in Catachan. I need to verify the casualty report on Ullanor that I received not long ago."

"Casualty report?"

Hector raised his brows, and the expression on his face when he said these words was as if he was looking at a monster with three heads.

"We have casualties on Ullanor?"

"There were no casualties, but including the missing, there were as many as 300 people with minor or serious injuries."

"Three hundred?"

Hector just laughed.

"Even if you spend a month in an apocalyptic war, the entire legion might not lose two hundred men. And we've been on Ullanor for a few weeks, and we've lost three hundred men? That's enough to send me to court-martial ten times."

"You know, the Legion characteristics."

Lana spread out and said.

"To the Dawnbreakers: Peace is often more dangerous than war."

"Look at this."

He handed the report to Hector.

"Okay, let me see."

Hector took the paper, read: Then he frowned quickly.

"Um……"

"Falling, getting lost, food poisoning, drinking too much, bonfire accidents, not returning from travel, fighting, real sword fights, emotional ups and downs, shooting competitions, crashing into walls in car races, a courage contest to provoke the Guards, a truth or dare contest to confess to the Sister of Silence, a courage and truth contest to ask the Wolf God about his hair volume..."

"I was accidentally injured while riding a thralls, accidentally injured while playing as a greenskin, intentionally accidentally injured while playing as Sanguinius, common poisoning, not-so-uncommon poisoning, being poisoned by the peerless from Bayer of the Emperor's Children, being crushed to the ground by a Grox beast in heat, being crushed to the ground by a block of carved marble, being crushed to the ground by a whole wall of orc skulls, being crushed into the soil by the crumbling ruins of an ancient library, being injured by the Thousand Sons who came to rob the ruins of the library, being injured by the strange silver skeleton robots in the library along with the Thousand Sons, and then being thrown off while returning in a mortal's car..."

"Knocked unconscious by the Valkyrie that fell from the sky, knocked unconscious by the airdrop pod that fell from the sky, knocked unconscious by the White Scars that fell from the sky, knocked unconscious by the Spear of Dionysus that fell from the sky, knocked unconscious by Sanguinius that fell from the sky..."

"Injured while eating at a Catachan restaurant."

"Injured while helping out at the Catachan restaurant."

"Injured while refusing to pay at a Catachan restaurant."

"I was bitten by the food while helping out in the kitchen of a Catachan restaurant to offset my debt..."

"Being bitten by cutlery..."

"Injured by kitchen utensils..."

"I was accidentally injured by the chef while helping him kill the kitchen utensils..."

"When I was helping the diners to kill the tableware, I was accidentally injured by the Midnight Ghost who came to help..."

"When helping the chef and the kitchen utensils to catch the Midnight Haunter who tried to evade his debt after helping, he was bitten by the food tied to the missing utensils and poisoned..."

"..."

"How's it going, Hector?"

"I understand one thing, Lana."

"whats the matter?"

"I finally understand why there has never been a university on our ships."

(End of this chapter)