Warhammer: Start with a dog.

Chapter 592: Jago Sevitarion
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"In such an era, being human means being just one of the trillions of insignificant specks living under the bloodiest and cruelest rule you can imagine. Too much has been lost and forgotten in the vast river of time due to wars, conspiracies, or even desires and ambitions. The promise of common progress and mutual understanding, the promise of human beings as one family, has proved to be nothing more than a naive ideal in the eyes of most people. The hungry gods are already there, waiting in the stars and in the hearts. Peace has disappeared, the old night has been reborn, and in the cold and dark future, there is only war and death, no doubt."

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Let us first shift our gaze from the blue humanoid hurricane that suddenly erupted on the Iron...Destiny Steel and headed straight for the hangar, and take a look at how a vibrant day goes on in Magna City, the beautiful and vibrant capital of Macragge on the other side of the galaxy.

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Just as the conversation between Digris and Guilliman, father and son, ended on the flagship of the Fourth Legion.

Some people are very unhappy.

Because theoretically, Mr. Conrad Coates, who acted as the biggest villain and the biggest surprise in this conversation, should now put his hands on his hips, make a V sign, face the camera happily, viciously and proudly, showing his shark-sharp teeth and laughing three times to celebrate his successful avengeance ten thousand years after being captured, and inflicting a devastating and fundamental blow to the heart of one of his most disliked brothers in a single sentence, unprecedented and unparalleled.

But...

Considering that the Iron Blood is a flagship whose actual service age is much longer than its recorded age, the ship has been upgraded countless times, the strength of the characters it is upgraded against is also constantly increasing, and there was also a certain wizard and a certain mortal wizard who had a very comprehensive defense against psychic energy, especially prophetic psychic energy, and it is a legendary flagship both inside and out—

Therefore, someone's prophecy did indeed play this fun for him many times while he was watching other people, but he also did not get to see the live broadcast of this event he had been looking forward to for a long time - even as strong as he is now, he could not break through the unshakable wall.

Not only was Cheng Qiang pretending to sleep, but his teeth were no longer shark teeth. Instead, they had normal teeth, and his smile was several levels less intimidating and fashionable.

"It feels really bad, I'm telling you, I feel really bad now! I should have ripped his heart out!"

In view of the above reasons, Mr. Kant Cratchit, the honorary citizen of Macragge, is now walking in the empty passage with a sullen face. There is no one here, but he is still complaining loudly.

"How bad was it, dear father? Could it be worse than when you first saw your biological father and brother?"

An image with a pale blue psychic glow at the edges, accompanied by a faint smell of psychic frost and ozone, seemed to be born out of thin air.

If this scene had occurred on some beach or sacred mountain in ancient Terra, there is no doubt that the person being born would have been given some title such as "born in the storm" or "born from the sea" because of his appearance and appearance, and would have been considered by the people who believed in animism to be a god or spirit with the power to protect or harm them.

But now is the beginning of the 42nd millennium, and this is the cabin passage of the Enterprise, which is registered under the Nightfall Dynasty.

Therefore, the being born beside the Lord of Midnight at this moment can only be the Son of God.

This humanoid form gradually stabilized, the blue glow and frost gradually dissipated, and under the fluorescent lights on both sides of the passage, he was wrapped in a tattered one-piece cloth robe with bloodstained edges. His feet were bare, and the remnants of blood that had been casually wiped off still remained on his eternally sneering but handsome face, and on his exposed pale skin were hundreds or thousands of scars caused by battle or torture, some of which were quite old, while some looked still fresh.

Even Conrad Kurtz frowned at the image.

"What? Not in a good mood today? If it's your turn, you should take me to catch some stupid lion cubs, skin them, and then cut the meat into pieces of suitable size and hang them on your bridge. This will definitely help your mental recovery. Every time I see the marks left on your body by those mindless sadists, I feel that I should have tried harder to kill the old lion, and then throw these self-righteous foolish knights into the Nightfall and play their favorite hunting games with them to relieve stress."

"No, I'm fine, my lord." The figure - or rather, one of the actual machine souls and navigators of the Enterprise, and the reason why the Enterprise can easily travel through the current dangerous blood storm in the Supreme Sky - the spirit of Yago Sevitarion replied.

"It's just that Otani said she wanted to take a nap, and you seemed to be in the mood for conversation, so I adjusted myself to a more peaceful state suitable for a navigator and astropathic navigation. This will help me serve you with the right attitude."

After receiving this answer, the Eighth Primarch still snorted unhappily.

"You dote on her too much!" he pointed out rather jealously, "And why do you have to behave like this when your so-called peaceful state can also be a normal appearance with armor on?"

"Aren't you asking this even though you already know the answer, father?"

The bare feet of his most beloved offspring landed weightlessly and realistically on the alloy ground, as if he could really walk here in his own flesh and blood behind his father.

"Although the huge volume of Enterprise made of adamantium and other spiritual materials and the large amount of psychic matrix engraved on it have effectively helped me stay in reality and stabilize my mental state, the most stable state reflected in my mind still needs to be fixed when I am in the best external state of mind. The connection between the body and the soul is real here, my Lord."

As for the question of whether a certain little girl was over-pampered, the former chief captain of the Eighth Legion and leader of the Night Bat Council did not choose to respond.

"But you have no body, Sai."

"But the Enterprise is my physical body now, father. Otherwise you would not have seen me long ago."

These words triggered some thoughts in the Lord of Midnight, and the waves in the sea of ​​his soul gradually subsided, like a deep-sea monster waving its tendrils and retracting into the dark abyss.

"Indeed." His emotional changes became more obvious and dramatic in front of his offspring on the Enterprise. He now looked melancholy and sad again. "I owe him this. It is not just a god's job to salvage you from the deep darkness and put you back together."

"It sounds like this favor will never be repaid. I am honored that my miserable life has such precious value beyond the universe. I am really flattered. Perhaps next time you have something particularly difficult, you can use me in exchange, father."

"But fortunately, the donor of the favor is not aware of this matter," Koz's expression immediately turned into a light-hearted joy, "so you don't have to worry, I can repay you within the limits of my own preferences." "Including turning into a cat to repay you, my lord?" There was a hidden interest flashing in Sevitarion's pure black eyes.

"It will never work as long as that damn dog is there!" The Eighth Primarch's resentment, jealousy, dissatisfaction and other emotions appeared in his psychic image like a rolling cloud.

The spirit projected by the First Captain on the ship showed an interested expression. Dog? Was that the Primarch of the Space Wolves? However, during the round-trip voyage and the brief approach to the Iron Blood, the Enterprise did not find any trace of Leman Russ from the psychic echoes and afterimages. I don't know why my father said that.

"But you didn't say 'never'?" he said politely, in stark contrast to his appearance.

"If you don't want me to paint the sides of your hull blood red then you better keep your mouth shut, Cy."

"Okay, then do you still want to hear my report on this voyage, the cargo list on board, the import and export trade in the Ultramar sector this week, smuggling, piracy, the specific details of the information intercepted during the border conflict, and other things you asked me to do? Or do you want to read it yourself?"

The Eighth Primarch's face showed an expression of "【Nostramo curse】, didn't I just go to work yesterday? Why do I have to go to work again today?", as if he was already tired before he even started working, and turned to walk towards the office set up for him on the Enterprise.

"Relying solely on predictions will make me lose the freshness of life and turn me into a failed pessimist. However, working without predictions will make me feel the work life and make me want to go crazy. Sometimes it is really difficult to decide whether to be a madman or a normal person. - Sai, prepare a pot of iced green orange juice and sparkling Reka coffee for me."

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Before lunch began, Malcador had processed all the administrative matters that had come to his desk, from the farthest system to yesterday's events in Macragge.

Looking at an empty desk is refreshing.

He picked up his tea and just finished the last sip, worthy of him.

Although these tedious and diverse administrative affairs were fewer than what he had to deal with on Holy Terra, in reality it was impossible for an ordinary person, even an Extreme Marine, to handle them all in such a short time.

But to be fair, for a veteran in government affairs like him, the difference in difficulty in maintaining a well-kept fountain vegetable garden and a Catachan jungle full of weeds and wildly growing trees and the actual processing speed among government affairs handlers may be greater than the physiological differences between orcs and elves.

As long as his rule was run smoothly and the rules were well-made in the first place, Malcador was the most perfect and efficient executor in the universe.

What's more, here he doesn't have to worry about dealing with someone who always allocates a lot of extra resources and manpower to implement his grand dream that always exceeds the budget. He can work faster without having to hide large amounts of extra expenses and flows.

The former imperial regent picked up his cane, opened the French door of his office, and walked into the atrium garden built of light yellow sandstone and white marble. The scorching sun shone directly down, so he walked right under the colonnade facing the sea.

From here you can see from the shadows the blue waves, white caps and flocks of seagulls circling on the waves of Lakem Bay. The sea breeze brings coolness here without any wet salt. It is obvious that the builders made precise calculations on the geography, meteorology and the building itself to ensure that this location is comfortable and pleasant all year round and suitable for viewing the scenery of the bay.

And this is where we have reserved lunch and rest for today.

This area was originally part of the overall area that belonged to Maneus Calga's audience hall, office and bedroom. Now, this area has been redivided and is managed by their respective new owners.

Just as Konrad Curze was responsible for all details of agriculture, trade and border disturbances, and Malcador was responsible for the daily administration and livelihood of the sector, Julius Robert Auma was currently sitting in Calgar's original room in the deepest part of the area, responsible for the entire operation of the Ultramarines Chapter and Macragge's diplomacy, law, war mobilization and preparation, and other matters.

It must be said that Julius was quite adept and exemplary in his ability to use the Primarch's physical charm and personal verbal skills, which not even Malcador could detect, to deal with the lower-level officers of the Ultramarines and every Successor or other cousin Chapter that visited Macragge. The only one who could surpass this level was probably Robouti Guilliman himself.

As for the Inquisition organizations stationed here and in the sector, which often become one of the most difficult organizations to deal with... Malcador can deal with them with the seal himself, and they are just a bunch of idiots.

Of course, some people were wondering why, after Guilliman returned to his glorious home world, everyone except the Chief Librarian, such as Calgar, who had held the title of "Regent of Macragge" for hundreds of years, either fell ill or received treatment. But at least most people gave up their wild thoughts after seeing the mysterious silver-armored knights appear on the left and right sides of the "Primarch" to guard him.

Now, Malcador saw that a huge dining table had been placed under the pillars, and servants had placed fine linen napkins embroidered with white U-shaped coats of arms, olive branches and other decorations on it. Juicy spiced roasted dinosaurs, roasted root salad mixed with Makula-style yogurt, fresh Far Eastern border fruits and drinks, and seafood rice stewed in a small pan were all placed on the "Warrior" plate insulation stand, surrounded by ice buckets of golden wine and carved silver tableware - since someone appeared, he ordered that all the lead tableware here be replaced with silver or white copper.

It wasn't long before he sat down on the smaller chair next to the table and pressed the anti-gravity button, squinting his eyes and enjoying the relaxing feeling of the breeze.

The sound of light footsteps of metal boots stepping on the fine and clean gravel floor of the atrium sounded behind him.

"Good day, Master Kadur."

This title brought a faint knowing smile to the old man, as if the two young men who stood cautiously in front of him holding books that day were still vivid in his mind.

He turned his chair and the tall figure approaching came into his sight.

Gorgeous ultramarine armor, chains around the waist and a book sealed with spells, and clear blue eyes that still had a hint of a smile under the psionic crown of thorns.

"Good day, Julius."

(End of this chapter)