40k: Midnight Blade.

Chapter 712 5. Conversation sparked by a bowl of fish soup
"Thick stews, grilled meats and fried skewers, pies made from wild fish from four star systems away or fruit from local farms—"

Fulgrim smiled and placed his hands on a smooth white tabletop, and asked softly, "What would you like to eat, Your Excellency the Grand Inquisitor who has come from afar?"

Sitting in a chair that was too big for him, Caryl Rohals was at a loss for words. He finally understood the feeling and was rightly embarrassed.
However, strictly speaking, what really made him feel this way was not Fulgrim's current problem, but a series of events that happened not long ago.

For example, the stiff figures of the princes after the hug that he didn't want to recall, and the gloomy expression of Phoenix when he took out the data tablet immediately after he finally landed and planned to handle the business.
There was also a barely audible laugh as he pulled on his helmet - which was quite funny because it didn't sound like him at all.

Combined with a subtle gesture that Shangla made a few seconds later, Khalil immediately guessed the true identity of the culprit, but he didn't have time to care about it now.

He had to answer Fulgrim's question quickly.

"Either is fine," Khalil said cautiously.

"Both? I don't think that's the answer, dear guest - you have to have some respect for the chef who is about to prepare a delicious meal for you, okay? Instead of throwing back the crucial task of deciding the dish, and letting the chef add one more issue to the millions of issues to consider."

Fulgrim narrowed his eyes, raised his right hand, and pulled out a long and narrow kitchen knife from the knife rack placed on the marble table beside him. He held it between his index finger and thumb and shook his wrist gently.

"What to eat?" He smiled again. "Please tell me quickly, Your Excellency the Grand Inquisitor."

"Thick fish soup." Khalil answered quickly, in one breath. "I once had a boneless thick fish soup on the Banjo-1 in the Hazy Star Region. It tasted delicious-"

"--Good!" Fulgrim shouted back, speaking faster than he did. "How about a thick fish soup with fruit pie and local white wine for dinner?"

"Of course, Fulgrim," said Khalil. "I look forward to it."

Fulgrim did not answer this question, but tied an apron and began to cook. His movements were very skillful, and it was obvious that this was not the first time he cooked. Khalil finally breathed a sigh of relief.
At this moment, they were in a not-so-big kitchen, which only had a not-so-big table next to the stove, and the rest of the space was filled with a large freezer and various kitchen utensils.

There are two sliding doors on the right side of the table, which have been opened long ago, and a small balcony is faintly visible in the shadow of the warm light in the house. In one corner is an astronomical telescope, and in the other corner are two chairs and a small coffee table.

One of the chairs has many signs of use, such as a thin blanket spread on it, adjusted height and a pillow, while the other has not been used at all, with only signs of wear and tear left by nature and time.

If you leave the kitchen, you can see a long, white corridor that connects the various rooms of the house, such as the terrace, study, kitchen, bathroom and bedroom.

To the residents of other worlds of the empire, this is undoubtedly a mansion. In some places, even ordinary nobles cannot afford such a house.

For the residents of Chemos, as long as they are adults, they can receive housing quotas from the city government. According to the current popular culture trends and design costs, the houses they finally receive should be mainly single-family, three-story houses with basements and gardens.

If you don't like this, you can also replace it, such as an apartment or an older wooden residential building, and finally it will be considered comprehensively according to their work. In short, no matter what, such a house is excellent.

But he is Fulgrim
Khalil looked up at the busy figure, feeling somewhat puzzled.

"Then ask him," a voice whispered. "Then we'll see how good his craft is."

Don't talk like you're going to criticize him if the fish soup doesn't taste good, Conrad.

"Oh, father - this is my brother, Fulgrim of Chermos, do you think he can't make a fish soup? I am really disappointed in your idea."

Khalil shook his head, not wanting to have a long conversation with the man in his shadow who had been idle these days.

Firstly, he had other things to do, and secondly, he probably had no way of gaining the upper hand in this conversation. The man could easily win by simply talking about the consequences of him coming to Chermos without prior notice or formal letter.

His shake of the head was met with a slight laugh and a gust of night breeze blowing in from the balcony, while the kitchen was already filled with fragrant aromas.

Fulgrim slowly turned around, holding a round wooden bowl, and came to Khalil.

The bowl is filled with delicious white. The whole piece of fish belly meat after cooking has a pearly luster. The red pieces and tender green leaves used as garnishes float in the soup, bringing a more complex aroma. A soup spoon is leaning against the side of the bowl. Its shape is simple and does not seem to be derived from a machine.

"Try it." Phoenix smiled, holding his hands behind his back. "I think you'll like it."

"how about you?"

"Try it first," Phoenix insisted.

Khalil had no choice but to do as he was told. The taste was not obvious at first, until the fish meat was chewed and mixed with the soup, the true taste came out.
In a very short time, it conquered every taste bud on Carril's tongue, bringing a mellow, rich and delicious taste. The tenderness of the fish itself intensified this experience. Chewing became unimportant because it only took a slight pressure to disappear in the mouth like melting, leaving an endless aftertaste.

"how?"

Khalil looked up at him, said nothing, and scooped up the second spoonful of fish.

Fulgrim smiled, a smile so genuine and pure that the endless waves on the sea suddenly stopped. In just a few seconds, he seemed to have returned to the past.
-
After eating and drinking, they came to the small balcony and began to observe the night sky.

Fulgrim had a glass of iced white wine at his side, while Khalil asked for a glass of water. After they sat down, no one spoke for at least a few minutes.

The night wind was still blowing, the stars were shining in the dark curtain, and a huge figure was looming in the clouds. It was the Eagle's Wing, a giant floating fortress designed and built by the Mechanicus, which could always inspect itself without landing.

A bird without feet.

After some time, Fulgrim spoke.

"How about fish soup?"

"You're asking a question that you already know the answer to, Fulgrim." Khalil looked at him and replied, "Or do you just want to hear the praise in person?"

"No, I just want to know your opinion." Khalil thought for a moment and said slowly: "I haven't eaten any delicacies, but its deliciousness is beyond doubt."

Fulgrim nodded, and after a moment of silence, he spoke of something else: "As I said, the fish used to make this fish soup comes from four star systems away. It is a planet that has been marked as uninhabitable, with a harsh environment and almost no land."

"The Mechanicus is still transforming it, trying to turn it into a habitable world. They never do anything that has no reward, so I guess this world must be rich in minerals. As for this unnamed fish, it is probably just a byproduct of mining seabed minerals."

"In the beginning, it was given as a gift to some nobles who were on good terms with the Mechanicum as a rare underwater beast. For more than a decade, its deliciousness remained undiscovered until a well-protected child with nothing to do all day found this beast, which could only be locked up alone, was more than ten meters long, and had teeth that could chew raw steel, very cute."

"She somehow managed to get a ladder and pushed the button to open the feeding trough. After her death, her mother ordered the fish's stomach to be opened, and found the child's mangled body inside."

Khalil paused for a moment, then asked sincerely, "Do you think this is a story to tell after dinner, Fulgrim?"

Phoenix smiled at him and waved his hand: "Listen to me - in short, the mother went crazy after that, locked herself in the room and didn't see anyone until half a year later, when she saw people again and announced two things."

"First, she will undergo life-extending surgeries, one after another, over and over again, until all legal life-extending surgeries in the empire have been used on her. Second, she will eat this fish for every meal for the rest of her life."

Khalil picked up the water glass, took a sip, and asked, "And then?"

"And then she died," Fulgrim said lightly. "She went mad and started a rebellion the year after she lost her beloved daughter. My legion slaughtered her and everyone in her family. Of course, her territory and her world were also killed."

He suddenly reached out and grabbed Khalil's right wrist. The force was not strong, but it showed his determination.

"But you know, that's just the official story," he whispered. "You know why she went crazy, Khalil."

"Yes I know."

Phoenix closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. The pillow filled the space around his waist and the thin blanket was spread over his knees. He sighed, his white hair dim in the dim light.

He closed his eyes and spoke slowly, the sound of waves hitting the rocks at midnight.

"I shouldn't say this, but I still have to say that I understand her. I know how painful it is to watch a young, vibrant life that trusts you wholeheartedly disappear in front of your eyes. Especially when blood ties you together, this loss becomes even more profound and cruel."

Khalil listened in silence as the shadow beneath his feet twisted as if trying to break free of some restraint, but he did not allow it.

"Over the years, I only need to close my eyes to see their faces, every one of them. From the first to the last."

"Their names are on the wings of the eagle. There are monuments, statues and paintings of them in many places in the empire. The reservists of the Zhongsi Academy and my legion will read about their deeds in books. But I am afraid that I am the only one in the world who remembers them. Only me, Khalil, not even Rayla and Thor."

"How are they?" Khalil asked softly.

"Back then, on the Spirit of Vengeance, Rayla personally killed two old fearless men of his time. The impact of this incident can never be erased from his mind. Every time he falls asleep, he actually just returns to the Spirit of Vengeance and kills his two brothers again."

Fulgrim opened his eyes, picked up the goblet, and drank it in one gulp.

"I tried to persuade him, but Saul told me that this was his revenge on himself. As for Saul Tarvitz himself, every ten years he would take some time off to observe those children who might become the new blood of the Legion."

"Each city secretly draws up a list, and he visits the scene. He knows every reservist well. He brings them from children into the legion, turns them into war machines, and watches them become alienated, bleed, and lose their humanity. In the end, they die or are buried in the Dreadnoughts. So, they are probably not good, Khalil."

"how about you?"

Phoenix laughed out loud.

"I'm fine," he said calmly. "Didn't you see when you came down from the atmosphere in the shuttle? I made Chemos look brand new."

"I did everything I could to ensure that they had enough food and clothing, and that they had meat for every meal. I allowed their culture to flourish, and literature, art, mathematics, and science all saw new developments and progress. I even made the nobles among them role models. A noble born in Chemos would be sought after by the nobles in other galaxies."

"They." Khalil pronounced the word, grasping the point of his words. "Is Chemos no longer your homeland?"

Phoenix did not answer this question immediately. It was not until the stars were low, the clouds dispersed, and the moonlight shone on his thin face that the man finally showed a little sadness.

"Partly," he whispered. "Because only part of me is alive."

Khalil nodded silently, resting his hands on his knees, interlacing his fingers and tapping his index fingers together. After a moment, he spoke slowly.

"I wanted to talk business with you, Fulgrim. But you chose not to have this meal with me in that floating fortress, so I guess you don't want to talk about these things today. This is a dinner without rank, position or status, right?"

"Yes."

"Then let's not talk about work today."

Khalil stood up, and under Fulgrim's puzzled gaze, he bent down, put his right hand into the ground, and after a moment, slowly pulled out a slender and pale arm.

The empty wine glass in Phoenix's hand trembled violently.

"Hi."

A person straightened his clothes, smiled and winked at him, and pulled up the pendant on his chest. The moonlight was bright above his head.

"Missed me, brother?"

(End of this chapter)