Warhammer: In the Name of Nirvana

Chapter 198 How to Suppress Shocking Wisdom

Zosimus and Myrddin came together to see him.

They were the undisputed leaders among the hundreds of psykers in the Third Fleet over the past dozens of Terran Standard Years.

Under their command, the Third Fleet, whose main purpose was psychic energy, although it did not rise to such a powerful force, it still successfully maintained its only remaining elite army in the waves of the Great Expedition. potential, and a relatively complete inheritance.

These two outstanding psychic masters are not ignorant newcomers. Like most of the Dawnbreakers, they are elite veterans who have fought all the way from Holy Terra and have fought in hundreds of war-torn worlds. and on battleships, killing in the name of humanity and the Emperor.

But despite this, when they faced their genetic mother, the various behaviors and demeanor they displayed were still no different from those of the new blood.

"Mother."

With two hesitant and tentative salutes, Morgan slowly opened his eyes, briefly glanced at the two seemingly unremarkable heirs in front of him, and then nodded.

After seeing that they did not disturb the meditating Gene Mother, the two psychic masters breathed a long sigh of relief in their hearts. The short-term fear faded away, and their faces became visibly happy.

Yes, cheerful.

Of course it will be cheerful.

Although it was less than ten Terran standards since their first official meeting, this did not prevent these Terran veterans who had fought for more than a hundred years from using their own experiences and observations to figure out their own original body, and secretly Create an image of her in your mind.

The Master of Psionics knows that not all Primarchs will bring complete benefit to his Legion: having an Archangel of Baal or a Wolf Shepherd of Cthunia is indeed a good thing, but If his original body was the Olympian who could gently spit out the eleven-shot killing order, or the blond beast that had disappeared...

Then you can only admit defeat, right?

After all, that is the Primarch, their father and master, a figure they are destined to believe in and obey. Just letting the thought of resisting such a figure quietly pass through their hearts is enough to make the most determined Ah The Stat warriors felt truly horrified.

But fortunately, they are not those poor unlucky ones: they have a primarch worth looking forward to. The only genetic mother in all legions is like the dawn behind the majestic mountains, welcoming and rejecting, and finally slowly... The earth illuminates their faces, bringing hope and possibility out of the darkness.

When I think about the hope symbolized by those long-lost lights, when I think about those dark years that seem to be gone forever, and when I think about the fact that at this moment, their Primarch, the Lord of their Legions, is sitting on their side. In front of him, there was a silent call for the bonds and connections that came from blood and genes.

So, how can we not be joyful, happy, and rejoicing?

Just like this, in this natural joy, the two psychic masters looked at their genetic mother cheerfully but respectfully, waiting for the will of Her Highness the Witch.

Yes, witch.

In the eyes of the two psykers, Morgan naturally did not look like the goddess of victory. In front of these subspace scholars, she showed another style: one that symbolized profound wisdom, powerful spells and infinity. The strange charm of mysticism, the arrogance and calmness that can hold thousands of creatures in another world in your hands and slowly play with them.

In the eyes of psykers, their genetic mother is erratic, just like the looming mist in the deep forest under the moon. It is close in front of you, but it seems to be far away in the horizon, making people unable to figure it out. .

She seemed to be sitting in front of them, but also seemed to be separated from them by an abyss and a hazy riddle. In front of the majesty brought by the shadowy mystery, they could get a glimpse of the mother of genes.

Her face is delicate, with an almost unreal charm, as if she is a doll made by a skilled craftsman, rather than a naturally formed flesh and blood. She wears a suit covered with strange symbols. The color of Wen's long skirt is a light blue that is almost frosty white. The pleated corners of the skirt cover the pure black boot tips.

Her figure was very thin, so thin that she seemed not to be a Primarch, but a somewhat tall mortal. Her seemingly fragile shoulders were wrapped in an indigo hooded cloak, completely covering her back and On most of her arms, she wore a well-fitting witch's hat. The brim of the hat in front was pulled down, covering her pupils and the tip of her nose, revealing only dark side hair and a faint smile that seemed to be telling her story. Everything that every scholar dreams of.

She held a staff, which was a sacred object formed by ghosts and wisdom. Countless bright light balls were like fireflies in the summer night, surrounding this great creation, exuding a power that made them envious and fearful.

This is Morgan, this is their genetic mother, this is the great lord they will follow in the future, an omnipotent witch who is proud of herself in the kingdom of psychic energy and magic.

This is what Morgan looks like in their eyes. The two weathered psychic masters got the same answer and certainty from looking at each other: no matter what images the other battle brothers told, at this moment, they What they saw with their own eyes was the true appearance of their genetic mother.

It is an honor for them and a silent testament to the special place they hold in the heart of the genetic mother.

They believed it so deeply.

Just like every Dawnbreaker.

——————

[So, have you chosen it? 】

Morgan leaned on his seat and looked at his two heirs, somewhat looking forward to their next answers.

Before she went to the Unyielding Truth, Morgan gave the two leaders of the psyker faction a mission:

She needs something, something that can give her a deep understanding of the Third Fleet, that is, the entire psyker faction, a unique existence that can symbolize and represent these think tanks and potential think tanks: it can be a book, a paragraph Words, even a silent movement or a past battle, she didn't care what it looked like on the outside, she just wanted to see what kind of things these psychic cubs could show her.

To be honest, Morgan had actually done a lot of psychological planning. She had imagined that she could see some weird things. After all, the Third Fleet, like the Thousand Sons Legion she had been with, was a pure group of psykers, and The astonishing wisdom that Magnus and his descendants performed in front of Morgan still shakes the weak heart of the Lord of the Second Legion.

Therefore, when Zosimus and Myrddin respectfully presented an old book, to be honest, Morgan was a little surprised.

She took a serious look at her two psychic masters: they were wearing the silver armor commonly used by the Dawnbreakers, with hoods on their heads, and their faces were ordinary. They just looked weathered, and their swords, bolters and scrolls were covered with The straps hung on either side of their waists, speaking of the strange union of being a psyker and a warrior.

From the appearance point of view, they are actually no more different from ordinary think tanks, which is also a characteristic of the Dawnbreakers.

In the Second Corps, there is an atmosphere of democracy based on pragmatism. The right to speak of senior officers is not absolute. They must always respect the valuable experience and suggestions of grassroots backbones and veterans, because these seemingly Inconspicuous soldiers often have strong strength and rich experience, but the almost unique indifference to fame and fortune of Morgan's sons makes them not want to pursue higher positions, but choose to shine in the positions they think are most suitable. fever.

Therefore, the sense of class within the Second Legion is not strict. Unless it is at a critical moment in the war, the difference between high-ranking officers and ordinary soldiers is not obvious, and this sense of similarity is also reflected in their appearance. : In addition to the necessary symbols of position and those medals of honor, the Sons of Morgan rarely decorate their armor with more things. Their simple philosophy of pragmatism is reflected in every aspect of the Legion, even if it is a long Division and separation have not erased this collective identity.

Morgan knew this very well, and she had no intention of changing it: this alternative kind of intimacy between officers and soldiers was in line with the Queen of Dawn's plans for her children. She was happy to see the Second Legion become an integrated group. It is conducive to the unity and strength of the legion.

And this is the issue that Morgan is most concerned about now.

Since the Second Legion's loyalty to herself is cause for optimism, what she needs to focus on most now is how to make this Legion stronger: after all, since the Second Legion is already her strength, then they should To be stronger, more united, and more able to display their strength and fanaticism is in line with Morgan's requirements for them and in line with Morgan's own interests.

therefore……

Morgan opened the book and read it very carefully, carefully understanding everything between the lines.

Morgan is extremely serious and even dedicated on how to make the Second Legion more powerful. This selfish lady regards the Dawnbreakers as her private property and part of her own strength. Therefore, She decided to nurture them as she cherished herself, just like the stingy and greedy manor owner who carefully took care of every inch of his farmland.

Morgan read quickly and carefully. She picked out some of the most representative chapters in the book, understanding its meaning and the stories behind it. After making a few marks, the Lord of the Legion raised his head. , looked at his two psychic masters.

[This is... a poem? 】

"Yes, mother."

"This is a collection of poems."

"It is also a record and summary of various psychic spells in the legion."

[...Give me a demonstration. 】

"clear."

Zosimus nodded, and then he and Myrddin each took a few steps back and came to the open field. They stood opposite each other and slowly drew out their respective swords.

The next moment, with the cold steel biting each other in the air, a wonderful duel began between the psychic masters. Their skills were not much worse than those of the top figures of other legions, but This is not the focus of Morgan's observation.

The Lord of the Second Legion soon discovered that as the duel unfolded, the two psychic masters seemed to be singing some kind of melody or some kind of poem in a low voice. Improvement turned into rare and beautiful skills, and with the change and advancement of the tune, lightning, flames and unbearable cold began to dance around them, joining the increasingly exciting scene. in the battle.

It would not take just a moment for a simple sword fight to turn into a series of performances of countless psychic powers. The poems flowing from the lips, teeth and hearts contain enough power for the warriors of the Thousand Sons to appreciate them. It turned into violent winds and flames that could destroy armies, responding to the call of the two psychic masters.

Morgan watched the scene quietly, and at one point, she clapped her hands.

【That’s it. 】

Then, she lowered her head and flipped through the book in her hand. Only after she had found a solution to every problem in her mind did the Primarch raise her head, and her voice turned into affirmative praise.

[I think that in the Legion, the secrets and spells of psychic powers are passed down from generation to generation through some kind of catchy poems or tunes that are passed down orally? 】

"Yes, mother."

Zosimus nodded.

"At the beginning, we also tried to record it in traditional books, but the intensity of the Great Crusade exceeded our imagination, so we came up with this method to hide the mystery of psychic energy in poems, as It is an insurance method to prevent loss of the tradition, but over time, this kind of chanting has become the mainstream of using psychic energy."

"In the beginning, this kind of oral chanting did cause confusion and trouble, so Myrddin and I decided to write a book to record them. Later, this book began to record our information about psychic powers. All research and ideas.”

"As you can see, in the first half of this book, there are some complete poems and ballads recorded. These are the finished products that have been practiced in war and possess strength and reliability."

"And in the middle part, most of them are works that have not had time to be completed and improved. Some works with great power, but the cost is also unacceptable, are also listed among them as a means when necessary."

Morgan nodded. She was not surprised by the existence of this kind of ballad. Whether it was in the White Scars or in the Space Wolves, she had seen similar methods. It seemed that this ancient narrative poem was not the same as those in the White Scars or the Space Wolves. The wonderful power of the real world is the most natural pairing and should appear together.

Of course, there are exceptions: the descendants of Magnus showed a disdain for this barbaric ancient poetry, preferring complex and subtle tricks to these escaping chants.

However, Morgan would rather have her offspring be more like those seemingly savage stormseers and rune priests than the great art from Prospero: after all, her requirements for her psychic offspring are different.

All the other offspring need to do is continue to grow stronger, thereby strengthening her power, and these psychic offspring...

Don't cause trouble for her.

This is their number one priority.

She couldn't imagine what surprises a group of Thousand Sons-like astonishing wise men would bring to her fragile little heart.

Thinking of this, Morgan's fingers turned to the last few pages of the book: unlike the previous artistic poems, here were all intermittently creepy words of madness and an aura of despair.

[Then...what about the last ones? 】

[They don’t look like ballads, they look more like crazy words, ravings, or even pure desperate wails and...last words? 】

Morgan sat upright, looking at her two heirs with dark expressions.

"...Yes, mother."

"Those are the last words."

"That's the price."

Zosimus lowered his head, as if he was avoiding some terrible memory.

"That's the sacrifices we will make and the battle brothers we will lose when we continue to explore spiritual energy and subspace in these long decades: During these years, we continue to explore subspace, Constantly exploring the limits of our spiritual power bit by bit with caution and awe.”

"But even so, even though we have tried our best to be cautious, countless brothers have still left us. The innate courage towards the unknown inspired us to move forward, but it also caused us heavy losses."

"We may even envy the Thousand Sons, envying them for being able to walk so far in the waves of subspace, leaving us behind without any cost, and every step of ours is the slowest and bloody. Countless The battle brothers who were still intact a moment ago died the most miserable death after trying a spell that had never been tried before, using their lives to avoid another dangerous place for us."

"And these last words are the legacy they left to us. Those battle brothers who died in this exploration will tell you the mistakes they made and the root causes of their deaths at all costs, so that we, the successors, can Take a lesson from this.”

"This is also part of the poem."

Zosimus's deep voice slowly echoed in her ears, and Morgan just stroked the pages gently. She noticed that many of the "last words" seemed to be from the same person.

【Midas? 】

"Yes, Lord Midas, he is my mentor, the first psyker of the Second Legion who was personally inspired and guided by the Emperor."

【he died? 】

"……Yes."

"During an alien extermination battle, Lord Midas summoned too much psychic energy in order to block the alien counterattack, and was eventually counterattacked by the power of these subspaces. We transported him back to the battleship as soon as possible, and Every treatment was tried, but to no avail.”

"He was eaten alive by the power of the subspace in front of all of us. We couldn't even extract his gene seed. It was an unimaginably long process that lasted several Terran standard days and was so long that he He may even tell us his last words and ask us to include in this book the last words of all the explorers as a warning.”

"It was also from that moment, mother."

"In the hearts of all of us, psychic energy is no longer a pure gift. We have witnessed how it backfired and killed an extremely powerful psychic. We began..."

【Awe? 】

Morgan asked rhetorically. She closed the book and saw only two large gilded characters on the cover: Awe.

"Yes."

"Awe."

Morgan closed her eyes. She didn't ask any more questions, but sighed in her heart.

The situation was better than she imagined, much better.

Awe, reverence for spiritual energy.

This is good.

After all, Morgan would rather have a group of Stormseers or even Rune Priests than the Thousand Sons.

——————

Their genetic mother stood up, and in that moment, her presence in their hearts became even clearer.

She smiled, walked slowly in front of them, and patted their shoulders as a reward, which made the two psychic masters shocked and inexplicably excited.

She spoke.

【This is good. 】

[Zosimus, Myrddin. 】

[You are doing a good job: Psychic energy is a double-edged sword. It will not only kill our opponents, but it will also threaten us at some point. 】

[Your thinking is very correct, which makes me happy]

Morgan held his hands behind his back and slowly circled around his two heirs, telling them his preliminary plan.

[Originally, I wanted to educate you, but now it seems that you are indeed the children who make me feel at ease. This means that we can skip this step and talk about other things. 】

She smiled, leaning back in her chair.

[We all know that my psychic masters, every Primarch will transform his legion: there are more and less, but this kind of thing will definitely happen, and I will not be the exception. 】

Zosimus and Mildin raised their heads suddenly and looked at each other.

"Are we the first? Mother?"

[Of course, after all, you and I are so similar that I have a small instinctive bias towards everyone when making choices. 】

What came out of Morgan's mouth were the simplest words, but they were enough to make the two psychic masters extremely excited, and their little worries and worries disappeared.

"Everything is your grace! Mother!"

[No need to say it so seriously. 】

Morgan crossed her arms and hugged her chest. She showed a mother-like smile, just like a cheerful elder who treats his children equally, communicating with smiles and reasons.

——————

[Poetry is a good civilization, my children, and it should be encouraged, as well as a formal inclusion. 】

[With the poetry that inherits the mysteries of psychic energy as the core, I plan to divide all my psychic descendants into two parts. They will be responsible for actual combat and research respectively. The former will naturally devote themselves to the battle, while the latter will need to constantly Collect and compile poetry, and continue to explore the oceans of the Warp. 】

[Of course, those responsible for actual combat and those responsible for research will not remain unchanged. Every once in a while, they will have an exchange and communication to ensure that the research direction does not deviate from the actual situation. 】

[After all, practical action is the only criterion for testing truth. 】

[Another point is that in view of the fact that the research department that explores subspace will face risks that cannot be ignored, there will not be too many researchers, and they will be removed from the ordinary troops and become members of the secret society. member. 】

"...Secret meeting?"

[An organization independent of the Legion Council. They are only responsible to me and can be understood as my right hand. 】

Jonson's management of his legion still has some merits.

Glory appeared in the pupils of the two psychic masters at the same time.

[Of course, this does not mean that those responsible for actual combat do not need to do any book homework. I cannot stand my legion moving forward in a mess and fumbling. You all know that what I appreciate is The combination of efficiency and practical action. 】

[They need to learn, every psyker must learn, they must master several techniques at the same time, including but not limited to:]

[Single soldier combat skills. 】

[Skills as the core or assistant of a team. 】

[Company combat skills. 】

[The method of joint combat required by a group of psykers when they act alone. 】

[Necessary melee combat ability. 】

[Systematic learning in the field of psychic energy that you are good at. 】

[And most importantly, the core of ideological and moral education is:]

[If you can use your hands, don't use spells. 】

[If you can use your brain, don’t use your psychic powers. 】

[Well...that's it for now. 】

[But it is definitely more than that. With future assessments and real-life tests, I will continue to improve these contents. If the implementation is good, I will promote it to the entire army. 】

[So, what’s the problem? 】

"..."

"..."

"...a question, mother."

"How to learn these skills?"

[Concentrated training and teaching, or lectures that I personally take charge of, and a series of standardized teaching materials. 】

"...Textbook?"

【certainly. 】

She smiled.

[You don’t think that I will let you take risks to explore the subspace a little bit, do you? 】

[From now on, these exploratory actions will be led by me, and I will also prepare teaching materials for each situation for your study and reference. 】

[This is my first gift to you. 】