Warhammer: Start with a dog.

Chapter 327 You are the ones who beg for food while guarding the golden mountain

The stars in the highest sky gradually flickered, transformed, retreated, and disappeared.

The air conditioner began to blow a cool breeze out of the vents that smelled slightly of cleaning acids and solvents.

At the end of the conversation, the Lord of the Night and his humanoid external throne actually had the following conversation as he watched Sandra weeping, praising, and backing away from the room:
(*threatening hissing) I dare say I don't like the contents of the life book of this priestess or future bishop and nun that I have just shown you.)
"Hmm... I think her reading style of the Book of Destiny - forgive me for not being able to find a better adjective - is quite elegant, and her wording is very polite and restrained, which is rare in the imperial literature. She may not be the most brilliant, but she must be strong enough, and her strength is a good match for the Eighth Legion."

(*…I really can’t kill her right now. Maybe I can. The only reason she survived last time was because I didn’t check on her in advance.)
"I don't recommend it. The fact that she can maintain this form, strength, and thinking ability under the influence of the 'Moon' itself shows that her foundation in all aspects, including her spirit, has been naturally selected through several generations and has a certain resistance or adaptability to the warp. And didn't you see that? She did quite well in her subsequent career. I don't see any need to replace her."

(*If by 'she did a pretty good job' you mean that she and her tireless followers spent the next two centuries making me into a god! (hissing) Even an agricultural god! And my essence is not at all...)
"Oh, so do you feel the harmonic vibrations when someone prays for success with an agricultural experiment or calls for your help?"

(*…)
“So.”

(*……Why did you just say that stupid thing in a place where my offspring can hear……)
"Mmmm!"

(*Hmph! Hiss of displeasure) Why did you just say Perturabo's motto where my offspring can hear?!)

"Because your original maxims are not appropriate at this time, but his are just right here."

(*……that's all?)
"that's it."

(*…)
The black and white long-haired cat flapped the tip of its tail unconsciously, the small black crown on his head glittering, and Konrad Curze began to try to think, but after thinking for a few minutes his expression relaxed, and it was obvious that the Primarch had learned to give up the headache-inducing thinking about the new slogan at the right time.

(*What do we do next? Besides preparing food for the Germination Day feast. Your plan - the plan you promulgated in my name requires a lot of real wealth, and there are many other urgent matters that need to be dealt with - ah!! It’s better to kill them all! KILL! KILL! KILL! I did whatever I wanted in Thessaguarza the last two times, but now I am beginning to be restricted like Guilliman!)

"Well... let me remind you first, KILL! KILL! KILL! is the motto of the empire. Don't scare your poor descendants."

(*Who was the first to scare my cursed, headless descendants with the motto of the Fourth Legion?!)
"Okay, okay, it's not a big problem... Well, I mean, a lot of wealth is not a problem, but the 'Moon' does need to be handled with caution. It is the one that caused the abnormal distribution of psychic energy among the newborns here. I dare not imagine how terrible this hell world is now."

(*Great wealth is not a problem? You say that easily. If it were not a problem, then Talos and his men would not have lived like I predicted.)
"Without a legal identity, and without the ability to think about future matters other than plunder, killing, and intimidation, this is what happens. We can't blame Talos, he is just a pharmacist after all, but the power of the gene seed gave him the title of 'prophet'. He is too tired. People cannot make choices beyond their own cognition, but we can arrange things for them."

(*……?)

"Haha, when we have a piece of land to cultivate - a planet and hardworking people, as well as some defense forces, the next step is to sail - go out and get the wealth that you deserve."

Ramizane sat on the throne and snapped his fingers, which were pale but the fullness of Curze's flesh seemed to have returned to normal.

Five members of the First Claw pushed open the door and filed in. The human skin that recorded the hatred list and revenge records on each of them had at least been replaced by parchment covered with Nostramo runes. The new hygiene requirements and the hard work of more members of the Mechanicus made the Terminators they wore look brand new - it was absolutely forbidden to smear human blood on the armor or to allow the rotten meat from fresh to corrupt to fill the gaps in the armor!

However, Curze's comment on this was (*They are just show-offs. They can't beat the Black Armor Guards, let alone Sevatar - you promised me, when...)
"You should have some self-awareness about the quality of the Eighth Legion's previous seeds and manpower. They are already one of the most capable groups besides the Black Armor Guards." Ramizarn turned his black eyes to the Soul Hunter, whose external injuries seemed to have almost healed.

Talos's face was still as pale as before, the pale pink battle scars fading from the stitches thanks to Valere's rejuvenation, but something desperate and crazy had melted away from his inside, and the handsomeness that he had originally possessed and that his gene-seed had given him began to show in his face in the most obvious form.

"Oh, you look radiant, Talos. Was Valer all right when he came to see you?"

"My Lord." The prophet who was called stepped forward and saluted with reverence, while raising the corners of his mouth for his lifelong friend. "He looks a little irritable and sleep-deprived, but fortunately, my Lord, at least I have observed that his skinning knife should not have skinned humans and Astartes for a long time."

"I have something from the past that I want to ask you about. It's not a big deal, but I believe that with your memory, you will definitely remember it."

The Soul Hunter looked up in confusion. "My Lord, please give me your orders."

"You found Octavia—Eurydice Melvarion—through prophecy in a place without any planets or galaxies around."

"Yes, my Lord."

"Do you remember the coordinates?"

"Yes." Talos began to hesitate. "She - will there be any problems in her future? Or did I miss something important at that time?"

The Lord of Night let out a soft sigh, although it sounded more like a helpless sigh.

"You see, he still hasn't understood that although he satisfied his feelings, he missed something."

He stroked the head and nape of the long-haired spiritual cat in his arms, whose face suddenly turned very sour again.

"I must say, Talos, you disappoint me."

This sentence caused a stir in the room. Charles opened his mouth, intending to say something to defend his friend but didn't know what to say. Celion narrowed his eyes, as if weighing the pros and cons, and licked his thin lips with the tip of his tongue. Makutian showed a worried and regretful expression, and Ursus seemed a little dazed and wanted to take a step forward.

"My lord?" Talos's face turned pale and bloodless, and he looked like he could take his life at any time according to his command.

"You decided to blow up the asteroid that was formed from the fragment of Nostramo again, which was a good idea at the moment, but now it will greatly reduce the efficiency of collecting ore in the area and increase the cost."

(End of this chapter)