Warhammer: Start with a dog.

Chapter 677 Why is the pigeon so big?
"Have you heard any new news recently?"

"No, I only heard that after they returned from Nikea, the Primarch and his brothers locked themselves in their own pyramids all day long, studying some important matters. My mentor Ahriman is still unconscious in the infirmary of the Black Crow School. Ekuannan is responsible for taking care of him. I guess he has no time to take care of you like before?"

Camille laughed. "Indeed, it's a good thing that's the case. Otherwise, Ecuannan would always lock me up in the Hall of Erudition and want me to use my synaesthesia to interpret the lost history of Prospero for him. Alas! Although this is very interesting and is also my professional job, it would still be a bit boring to stay there all day. I need some relaxing daily life and social interaction to nourish myself outside of work."

In stark contrast to the atmosphere in the golden and silver towers where the Primarch resides, the afternoon in Tizca Nova is as warm and pleasant as the sunlight shining through the pergolas and the shade of trees hung with tropical fruits.

Lunch with several friends was also going on happily.

In fact, not long after the last two guests came in, greeted each other and sat down, their meals were served quickly without them even asking for menus.

A plate of baked tomato paste topped with tahini, olive oil and tizica spices, along with a stack of extra-soft pita bread, was placed in front of Callimachus, who had a bad tooth.

Then the waitress placed in front of Lemuel a plate of pigeons stuffed with wheat grains mixed with spices and eggplant, and roasted until golden brown with honey and oil on the surface. She also placed in front of the two ladies a large plate of braised zucchini stuffed with chickpeas and meat sauce.

Finally, she turned around and walked to the kitchen's serving area again, bringing them five different desserts and drinks, placing them in front of each person in turn and with precision.

"Well, even though we've been here for a few weeks, I still don't think I'm used to the waiter asking the kitchen to prepare our dishes before I even ask for the menu."

Despite this, Lemuel did not raise any objection to the dishes brought by the waitress, and immediately stuck his fork into the pigeon he wanted. A rich aroma of meat mixed with wheat rice came out with hot steam from the pigeon skin he pierced.

"I think it's a forgivable quibble, even though it felt like something was missing at first. But since they always serve the right dishes, I think we might as well do as the Romans do."

Camille happily began to share the stuffed zucchini dish with Callista, while chirping that Callista's dessert, which consisted of only cut fruit, was too light and that those of them who were going to work in the field should eat more when they could.

"Why don't you try to persuade Uther? Eating so sweet is more important than eating light."

The other female narrator smiled. Even in Tizca, a city full of slim and handsome men and beautiful women, Callista's beauty still stood out.

When she smiles, it is easy to make people think of some good things and times. It is said that some local young heroes have launched a pursuit of her, but Lemuir is not jealous of this. Instead, he sincerely hopes that Calista can find her own happy bond here.

At this moment, she was smiling and pointing the tip of her fork at the slender man sitting diagonally opposite her.

If Calista's beauty was like golden sunshine, then this ebony-skinned, green-eyed man was like the entire beautiful planet of Prospero, gorgeous, mysterious, exotic yet elegant and luxurious. In addition, Lemuel thought that this scholar was the most unexpected polymath he had ever met.

If it weren't for the fact that interpreting what Callimachus wrote for the Primarch was not a matter that was really inappropriate for local people to participate in, he would have wanted to ask Utherma Atla for his opinion on this matter.

The scholar was smart, friendly and willing to share. In the more than two weeks they had known each other, the only quirk of Uthermaatla that made Lemuel Gaumont's eyelids twitch was his crazy love for sweets.

Whenever they met, Uthermatela would eat sweet food produced by Prospero if conditions allowed. Even if he didn't order a large portion of pistachio sweet cheese cake sprinkled with icing sugar, drizzled with honey, and mixed with rose syrup like today, he would grab a handful of dried dates that were sweeter than candy and discuss the ruins, ancient records, or ancient archives with them while eating.

"Kalista is right, Maatra," Lemuel placed the glass of white wine in front of his new friend. "You are eating too much sweet food. Why do you have to do this? Life is long, and there is time to enjoy these sweet delicacies slowly. It is not worth it to seek temporary pleasure now and then have to spend extra medical expenses in the future."

A strange sadness flashed across the ebony-skinned young man's face. He responded vaguely to his friend's kind advice, "I just haven't eaten it for a long time." He said, "I believe you can understand that I will want to eat some local food for a while after returning from my travels, and I may have to set off again soon."

"Ah, that's right." Camille nodded in agreement. "Sometimes it's not that delicious, but I just want to have that authentic hometown flavor."

"Departure?" Callimachus, who had been silent, raised his drooping eyelids and looked at Utherma Atla inquiringly. The old man had a slightly trembling and tense caution. "Lemuir, does your friend have any plans to set off recently? Which ship does he plan to take?"

It was then that Ahriman's mortal apprentice remembered that he might be accustomed to the telepathy that was everywhere on Tizca, and he should formally introduce this new friend to Callimachus.

So he raised his glass solemnly and introduced Uthermaatla and Callimachus.

"This is Utherma Atla, the respectable Callimachus. We met him when we were wandering around the city after arriving in Prospero. It was he who led us on a tour of Tizca City, treated us to a meal at this treasure restaurant, and told us all the places we needed to know. He is a friendly scholar. And let me introduce you, Uther. This is Mahavastu Callimachus, one of the best narrators in history, the personal narrator of the Thousand Sons Legion, Master Magnus, a legendary figure who is destined to write a book for the Scarlet King."

"I've heard a lot about you." The green-eyed young man smiled at Callimachus and raised his glass. "It's nice to meet you." His beautiful lips uttered a few syllables like singing, "Respected Mahavastu Callimachus."

The narrator of Gao Deshao that year had just looked old, but now he froze visibly for two seconds as if his heart had been struck by lightning. Then he sat up abruptly and looked back with an agility that was very inconsistent with his age and appearance: the cool breeze blowing in from the bay blew the awning on the top of the quiet alley outside the garden and the leaves of plants on both sides. The white and cream-colored houses on both sides cast shadows on the cobblestone road of the alley, and there was nothing else.

"What's wrong? Respected Callimachus?" Camille put his hand on his chest, "Is there something there? You scared me."

“No…” The old man turned his head and stared at Utherma Atla who was also looking at him curiously.

"I just...you...I'm sorry, I'm just...a little surprised." Callimachus paused and narrowed his eyes, as if to confirm whether the mortal youth in front of him really existed. "But I want to ask, who taught you to pronounce my name like that?"

Callimachus' sudden change in tone made the other three recorders nervous, but Utherma Atla was obviously confused, "What's wrong? I just repeated it. My accent is indeed very little Tizcan, but it's just the Imperial Standard High Gothic accent, right?"

"Really? Sorry," Callimachus forced a smile, "Then please consider this as an inappropriate interest from an old man like me... Can I ask a question?"

From the corner of his eye, Lemuel saw that veins were bulging on the back of his old friend's hand as he gripped the armrest of the chair under the table.

"Of course?" the mortal youth said kindly, "Ask me anything. I will tell you everything I can." "What do you think?" The Primarch's personal recorder stared at the other party with his cloudy eyes. "When will the Thousand Sons Legion be able to fulfill Nikaea's decision and set out on its own to return to the Great Crusade?"

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On the other hand, in Magnus's private pyramid
Although this was the first time in such a long time that Perturabo BC doubted the "power" of Ramezane - but considering what this person actually represented now, he finally hid in a secret room with doubts and recorded a strictly encrypted visual letter.

This top-secret letter, addressed to the Emperor of Mankind, was sent to Holy Terra that same day by a joint delegation of Iron Warriors and Space Wolves aboard the fastest starship. Under the orders of the two Primarchs, it must be presented to the Emperor in person - one of the Primarchs firmly and strongly refused to use the Prospero choir.

[Only this one! No copies or extra words!] He emphasized, looking sternly at Magnus who was not very happy. [If it weren't for him...]

"What insights do my wolf brother who has turned into a dog have? What secret knowledge do you have that I am not allowed to know?"

Finally, after discovering that Perturabo and Leman Russ were once again exchanging glances in tacit understanding, but he secretly used psychic magic for a short while and still could not detect their thoughts at all, the Scarlet King directly raised the question.

"If you insist on keeping an eye on me like this, could you please not talk to my face and exclude me?"

"Well, it's not really a secret," the Lord of Steel said. "It's okay to tell you now that it's been sent out. We just asked your father for a few more people. We plan to have them come to Prospero to do some work for us and have a vacation at the same time."

"That's all?" Magnus looked at him suspiciously.

"that's it."

"you swear?"

"Swear on anything or however you want me to swear."

"...You two are so naive, Perturabo and Leman Russ."

"Yes, yes."

"Just tell me when they arrive. I'll have Amon arrange accommodation and escort for them. And this is the plan we just discussed to develop the wasteland area according to the new project..."

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"Magnus is so gullible. Is it really because you lowered some things when you were training him, Old Deng?"

Fulgrim Pallas asked, grasping the pigeon's neck and shaking it.

After that strange moment of relief, the three Primarchs (?) present clearly had different feelings.

For Pallas, that strange and primitive impulse was finally relieved after he beat the pigeon that was transformed from his father - oh yes, because the pigeon was too small and the Primarch was too big, so under the blessing of that very unreliable random wish halo, the Wolf King who originally wanted to ask "How are you going to beat it when it's so small" was fortunate enough to witness the entire brutal close combat between the Son of the Emperor and the Emperor, and asked a deep soul-searching question "Why is the pigeon so big".

Well, now they had a pigeon as tall as an ordinary man with a laurel wreath on its head. The pigeon was now sitting at the table with them with a bruised nose and eyes. The steward of the royal court was half-kneeling carefully holding a tray with dressings and other things. The pharmacist who was summoned was treating the wounds of both parties in the fight with an expressionless face.

"Terra, by the way." Magna said with a twinkle, "Now I feel that not letting more people on this ship enter this room is definitely one of the best decisions I have made in my career of preparing for a rainy day. If someone sees it and recognizes who it is, I will no longer be able to give any more 'stable' explanations. Unless..."

The pair of blue electronic eyepieces glanced at Leman Russ.

The wolf king sneered at this. "Don't look at me. I haven't been to Fenris yet. It's impossible for me to lead the wolf pack to work for you. You are not qualified to order me to do this. I have done it, but do you think I really want to do it? I don't like it! Now finally no one can ask me to do it!"

"Magnus is my most valued heir!" The pigeon screamed in pain. One of its eyes was a little difficult to open. The pharmacist was holding the instrument steadily with his hand to reduce the swelling of the noble pigeon's eyelid, but he was merciless. "I just gave him a peaceful personality that makes it easier for him to accept the reasons given by others! Such a personality seemed to be completely conducive to Magnus's learning of knowledge, and it could cooperate well with my future plans, and it could also gently make Magnus better accept his new responsibilities!"

"Doesn't this mean that he can easily become a fat sheep who only knows how to read and is easily deceived?! Have you ever thought that besides you, other people may give him other reasons? Or even that he may convince himself?!"

"I have been guarding him since before he was born!"

"And what about the Burning of Prospero?!"

"It wasn't originally like that! Even though he committed such a heinous mistake, I still hope to order someone to bring him back instead of killing him on the spot... Not to mention that his position is not above Prospero, don't I know best what terrible things will be released by the fall of Magnus?!"

"Release what?" Suddenly, a voice they were all familiar with interrupted and asked.

"Of course it's His Human..." The pigeon suddenly shut its mouth and turned to the questioner. "Is it you?!"

Magna stared back at them quietly and innocently with his electronic eyes.

(End of this chapter)