40k: Midnight Blade.

Chapter 112 15. Red Sand ([-])

At ten thirty noon, Khalil returned to Glory of Macragge.This ship, like the Nightfall, is a warship of the Queen of Glory class, but its boarding deck is not as simple as the Nightfall, which is almost gloomy.

Stepping off the transport plane, Khalil could see the thick tapestry hand-woven by the various regiments of the Ultramarines at first sight.They are well maintained every day, not only bright as new, even the color has not changed at all.

He sighed quietly, feeling a bit of a headache from the ubiquitous solemnity - which is certainly not a bad thing, but he couldn't help thinking about the empty Night, and the dark and dilapidated corridor.

Repairs are a piece of cake, but does anyone in the Eighth Legion know how to weave a tapestry?You can't even learn from the Ultramarines with this, right?

Khalil shook his head, cutting off his thoughts.10 minutes later, he arrived at the destination of the trip via the elevator.After greeting the two ever-victorious soldiers standing guard, he pushed open the door of Robert Guilliman's study and directly saw the scene inside.

"."

silence.

No one spoke.

A victor turned his head, wondering what was going on, but Khalil raised his hand prophetically, stopping his movement, and gestured for the victors to move away.

The Primarch's personal guards were puzzled by this, and one of them peeked in, then turned sharply, leading his companions towards the other side of the corridor.

As for Khalil.
He looked at the scene inside without saying a word, and the two people in the room fell into an awkward silence at the same time.

Half a minute later, Guilliman coughed lightly, and took off the helmet he never knew where it came from—Khalil saw it very clearly, that thing was forged from metal, and had a certain Protective ability, T-shaped face, simple and surprising.

And it's the original size.

As for Angron, the reborn gladiator was wearing a hospital gown, holding the dagger of two wooden daggers, standing awkwardly between the moved sofa and coffee table.

Just now, he was still concentrating on telling Guilliman how gladiators use double swords in the arena.The details of the two swords he held did not escape Khalil's eyes either, both bearing Guilliman's name engraved on the tail.

".Frankly, I'm surprised."

Standing in front of the door, Khalil spoke slowly, determined to break the silence, but not in a serious way.

In fact, he's straining himself not to laugh right now.

"But, I have to admit, it's really a rare kind of brotherhood."

"...if you want to laugh, laugh, Khalil." Guilliman pursed his lips, tucking his helmet under his arm, looking like a warrior just out of battle.

It's just that the laurel crown on the soldier's head is surprisingly skewed, and his hair is also messy, and he obviously doesn't realize it.

"No, I won't laugh."

"I mean it - but I want you to close the door."

Khalil nodded and slowly closed the door.

from outside.

Half a minute later, he walked in with a serious face, and the dagger and helmet had completely disappeared, and the tea table and sofa had returned to their original appearance, staying quietly on the carpet.

Angron was wearing a hospital gown and sat on one of them, staring straight at Robert Guilliman, who was standing in front of him with a heavy tome and was telling him something.

"."

Khalil walked into the study calmly, closed the door with his back to them, and let out a breath of stale air slowly.

The next second Angron and Guilliman were sure they heard a chuckle.

Khalil turned around blankly: "Good day, Robert, Angron."

"."

The gladiator glanced silently at his brother—in the past, similar things had happened in the arena.Although he couldn't find any specific pictures in his broken memory, he could clearly remember the emotions that surged in his chest at those moments.

That emotion is not much different from now.It is a rare joy that should be cherished.

Sensing his gaze, Robert Guilliman silently put down the book in his hand.He lowered his head and flipped through the thick tome, from front to back, from back to front, and finally settled on a chapter that had nothing to do with what they said before.

"... Legions have a tradition of cooperation." Guilliman said seriously. "I mean—maybe someday in the future, there could be a collaboration between War Dogs and the Ultramarines."

"Mmm, yes." Angron nodded quickly. "No problem, brother."

"...So, today's lesson is over." Guilliman said with the calmness of a politician. Then, he turned his head and used another skill of a politician.

"Good day, Instructor Khalil." He greeted solemnly with no expression on his face.

Khalil didn't answer his greeting with words, he was silent for a while, nodded, and then he couldn't help but move his face away.Laughter finally began to circle the room, not from Khalil but from Robert Guilliman's brother.

Guilliman sighed deeply, and then actually laughed too.

After a few minutes, the atmosphere finally returned to normal.The serious conversation finally began to continue.
-
".It may take three to five months for your legion to reach Nukairia. This depends on the premise that everything goes well in the warp space. We need to pass this news to them, and they also need to leave for Nukairi Ya, anyway—"

Guilliman paused for a moment, seated behind his marble table and gestured.

"—you've got plenty of time to think about the whole thing, brother."

Angron nodded to him, his rough face covered with scars.

At this moment, a kind of slow and serious thinking is taking root on this crippled face.

This made the Butcher's Nails vibrate again, and instead of squirming and burrowing downward, they began to punish Angron's actions with pain, but the Gladiator himself didn't care.

Khalil, who was sitting aside, glanced at them and said nothing.

After several minutes, Angron spoke again: "No matter what order I give, will they obey it?"

"Yes."

"Even if I ask them to slaughter unarmed people?"

"." Guilliman pursed his lips and nodded solemnly. "Similar things are not without precedent. Sometimes, sacrifice is a must."

"Even if I ask them to attack each other?"

"It is not uncommon for a Primarch to consider the combat prowess of a Legionnaire."

"No, I mean killing each other." The gladiator said in a low voice, breathing heavily like a beast. "It's based on one side's immortality."

Robert Guilliman lowered his head, then raised it again.He had realized what his brother was saying, implying something, but he didn't know how to refute it.

So he just nodded sullenly.

"I see." Angron said calmly. "So, my biological father arranged a group of slaves for me when I was born?"

"They are not slaves!" Guilliman retorted instinctively. "They are your children, and there is a connection between them and you, Angron, if you see it with your own eyes, you will understand!"

"But I can't see it now," said Angron. "I can only guess what they look like based on your description. If it's what you said, Robert, I'd rather they stay away from me and don't listen to any of my words, not even a single word."

"However, the Legion cannot live without a Primarch."

"Really? So, what were your Ultramarines doing before you met them?"

"."

"What are they doing, brother?"

".It seems that I can't beat you in a pure verbal confrontation."

Guilliman glanced wryly at Khalil, who shook his head calmly, rejecting his offer, so he continued.

"However, Angron, I hope you understand that although they will obey all your orders, that really doesn't mean they are your slaves."

"Are they free?" the gladiator frowned. "Do they have the right to defy me? Or, do they have the right not to accept me?"

"No Legion will reject their Primarch."

"That's a form of slavery, then," Angron said gravely. "I still don't know the details of the relationship between the Legion and the Primarch, brother, but I know one other thing, another thing you know little about."

"what's up?"

"Slavery."

Angron spoke slowly.

"I have been in the Daishea Colosseum for more than ten years. In the past ten years, I have witnessed countless ways to enslave others. The simplest one is brainwashing. Only hunger, darkness and fear are needed to make people enslaved. A person becomes an unconscious numb accomplice after a few days. Now, you say, there is such a large group of people, they will follow any order from me without any conditions. Including but not limited to die for me, or massacre the defenseless Innocent people—even if I want them to kill each other, what is that, brother?"

Robert Guilliman was speechless—his brother had offered him a new way of seeing the world, one that was completely foreign to him.

It was like a person who knew the monster existed but never saw it with his own eyes. On his way home one day, he bumped into the monster, which was as terrifying as the bloody victim under it.

"If you don't mind, Angron—" a voice sounded in the silent room.Khalil stood up slowly, and smiled slightly at the two Primarchs who looked over: "——I can tell you the special relationship between the Primarch and the Legion instead of Robert."

"...well, but before that, I have something to tell you, Khalil."

Angron also stood up slowly, like a stretching mountain.

(End of this chapter)