40k: Midnight Blade.

Chapter 146 7. Overture to War ([-])

A servitor stumbled across the hall. It passed between the huge red cloth hanging from the beams. The pale and bloodless skin was set off by the red color even more terrifyingly.But that has nothing to do with it, servitors themselves have no self-awareness.

They were born to be enslaved.

Angron glanced at it, then looked away.

"How many years has this transformation been going on?" he asked.

The person being questioned shook his head and didn't give a definite answer, but he did answer his question: "It's been a long time."

The Nucerian frowned, and he didn't hide his disgust.Maybe it was disdain, maybe it didn't feel necessary—but, no matter what, Robert Guilliman saw the expression on his brother's face completely.

"If you want to know an exact number, I'm afraid you'll need to find a mechanical priest," said Guilliman. "But I don't think they actually know the correct answer. Knowledge is their currency and life to some extent, especially mechanical knowledge. If knowledge is to remain valuable, it needs to be kept secret."

"So they won't tell me the answer?"

"If you want to know, they'll tell." Guilliman shook his head, speaking in a strange tone, as if he had tried.

Angron laughed, and he did not discuss the subject any more.I don't know if it was a return, but when he remained silent for five minutes, the person he and Robert Guilliman had been waiting for finally arrived.

Conrad Coates.

The Lord of the Eighth Legion hurried through the common crew and the decorating artists, and answered their greetings one by one.

He entered by the main door of the Great Hall, far from where Angron and Guilliman were, which made his journey very difficult.Conrad Koz didn't ignore anyone greeting him, so when he finally got between his brothers, it was 15 minutes later.

"It's very difficult." Angron smiled slightly, with a friendly tone. "I don't think you even need to pay those artists anymore, you're their payment."

"...still needed," Conrad Coates said. "But I didn't expect that the lobby of the Nightfall would need to be redecorated, and I didn't expect that you would come here without notifying me in advance."

"The context of what you said made it sound a bit confusing." Robert Guilliman replied with his hands behind his back. He watched the painters' records of this scene, and looked up from time to time Those who are carving at the top of Nightfall's Great Hall.

They were protected by a raised iron platform, a gigantic machine that had been aboard with the painters, and seemed to have been around for years.Looking up from the bottom, one can just see a huge sky eagle.It means some sort of certification, permission, and honor.

The machine servants were busy below, handing them various tools through the servo engineering arm installed on the back, and collecting the debris that fell from the gaps in the iron platform.

I don't know if the designer of the Nightfall thought that its owner might remodel it at the very beginning. The unknown designer designed the top of the hall as a whole piece of marble without any decoration.

The sculptors were overjoyed after discovering this incident, and soon reported it.And the 'office' of the night curtain also responded quickly.

To be precise, two replies.One from Khalil Rohars, succinctly, "May your inspiration never run out."

The other one was from Conrad Koz--actually, it's not like a reply, it's more like an inquiry, "My brothers's in the hall on my ship? Wait, hall To be redecorated?"

Thinking of this, Robert Guilliman couldn't help laughing: "You don't know about this at all?"

"I know." Curz replied slightly depressed. "But that report was buried among the papers I needed to deal with, and it was still there when I got your notice to board the ship."

"It seems that you have encountered a careless messenger." Guilliman patted him on the back with a smile, just as a comfort. "However, this is actually a good thing. These people are artists used by my father."

Conrad Koz raised his head and observed the artists employed by the emperor.

At this moment, there are only a small number of people working, and most of them are not carving the shape, but roughly carving out a huge oval shape.Most people stand together, communicate, debate, argue—even fight.

Whenever things develop to the last step, the people in charge of the Eighth Army will appear from the darkness to separate them.It was a novelty, even for Conrad Coates.

He couldn't help but also laughed: "I didn't expect them to beat each other for this. And they didn't use their hands."

"After all, they use their hands to perform their skills," said Angron.

The Nucerians turned their heads thoughtfully, and met the eyes of a painter who was observing them. The latter was startled at first, and then made a gesture to Angron without hesitation, hoping that he would change his mind. Stand up.

The primarch raised an eyebrow involuntarily, but complied with the man's request.The painter laughed with delight, and began to carefully write the pencil on his canvas.

"...Also, it looks like we have to be part of the painting." Gladiator withdrew his gaze and began to adjust the muscles of his face, trying to make himself look more gentle.

His behavior was obvious and did not escape the eyes of his brothers.This attempt failed after ten seconds, and Angron sighed.He can't put on a milder face in his daily life, and the influence of nails is always there.

He didn't mind it, but.
He knew that the Warhounds would always look behind him with hate on the back of his head.

"What?" Conrad Koz widened his eyes. "No—no, I can't stay here for too long, I still have a document from Nostramo Ground 220 unsigned!"

"Actually, allow me to interrupt you a little, my lords"

A voice sounded not far from them. Van Cleef, the first company commander of the Eighth Legion, was wearing his armor and stood in the crowd fully armed and nodded to them.

"You don't have to worry about the documents." Konrad Koz heard his first company commander say this, his face was expressionless, as always. "The instructor informed us about this through the communication channel 3 minutes ago, and he also specifically reminded you to bring a simple communication device with you when you leave the office next time."

"...huh?" Conrad Curz looked at Van Cleef blankly.Angron and Guilliman couldn't help but smile at each other behind him.

"Is there anything else you don't understand?"

"—what did he do with my job?"

"Because you have a meeting to attend," Van Cleef said. "Didn't you get the report?"

The Lord of the Eighth Legion frowned and began to search his own memory.He quickly got a not-so-good answer—he should have received it, but he put the document into the pile of documents in the order of first-come, first-come.And it's not marked as 'important' or 'urgent'.

".I should have received it." Curz sighed.

Guilliman nodded empathetically at him: "One of the unavoidable problems with paper documents is that when they're all stacked together, it's hard to find the one you need. That's why I love using Data pad."

"I'll ask the Mechanicus later about this...data board. So, Van Cleef, you mean a meeting? What meeting?"

"A meeting on the recovery of the human colony of Harkosus," said the First Captain, ignoring Robert Guilliman and Angron.

Lord Macragge quickly realized the meaning behind this incident with his statesman's instincts, and he looked at Van Cleef inquiringly, who nodded to him: "Yes, the instructor hopes that the two adults can participate together.”

Robert Guilliman's expression immediately became serious.

　One more chapter.

　　Today's code is relatively slow, toothache + hand pain double debuff, it's hard to say.

　　
　
(End of this chapter)