Warhammer: In the Name of Nirvana

Chapter 293 Conrad’s Morning

Midnight Ghost has always hated reading.

In Nostramo, he was annoying.

And now, he hates it even more.

The lonely King of the Night is not ignorant of the importance of books and knowledge, but on the one hand, the cruel knowledge he was born with is enough for him, and on the other hand, after ruling Nostramo Finally, Conrad did have a hard time studying.

But the only gain he gained during that time was that he was convinced that he had no ability to acquire knowledge at all. When he was studying economics and governance, his performance was even worse than that of the mortal governors under his command.

From that moment on, Midnight Ghost confirmed one thing: his creator did not need him to master other knowledge at all. The justice, cruelty and ruthlessness hidden in his mind and born into the world with him were All the Lord of Mankind expected from him.

After thinking about this, Conrad actually felt a sense of relief, just like a hesitant traveler who, when he reaches the fork in the road that needs to be chosen, suddenly discovers that there is only one road that can pass. , that is a kind of weak happiness.

But this kind of happiness did not last long: because the ambitious human emperor dragged his most hopeless son out of the dark cave, used dazzling light to make him at a loss, and then in the midnight ghost He was thrown carelessly into the hands of another before he could utter any protest.

This person, Morgan, the supposedly dead blood relative of Midnight Ghost, the controller of a lost legion, she is...

Well……

A very unique guy.

That was all Conrad could say.

After all, in his mind, the maximum punishment for an ordinary person after being extremely angry is nothing more than death, plunder, or the more cruel death wish: there will be no new tricks.

Even Midnight Ghosts are like that.

But his carrion blood relative was a little different: although her anger and malice had boiled to the point where it was visible to the naked eye, when she caught the midnight ghost and spat out her punishment word for word, It truly exceeded all of Conrad's expectations.

The moment he heard the name of torture, there was actually more confusion in the King of Night's heart than fear, which came from a genuine confusion in his heart.

Twenty years of basic compulsory education...

What is it?

——————

But whatever it was, Conrad knew he had to comply.

After all, between Conrad and Morgan: she is the Midnight Ghost.

——————

"Jingle Bell--"

"Jingle Bell--"

"Jingle Bell--"

The piercing ringing sounded in the extremely dark space, and it was noisy, successfully destroying another peaceful and happy sleep, as well as the peaceful state of mind of the guest in the room.

Conrad opened his eyes, and with a casual touch, he caught the thing that disturbed his dream, and glanced at the time on it: Terra time, 5:30 a.m. sharp.

A dull and indecent sound came out from the Nostramo's throat. The Primarch roughly smashed the gadget against the wall, then rolled over on the hard bed and landed firmly on it. He fell to the ground, his posture so skillful that he had done it countless times.

Conrad rubbed the blemishes at the corners of his eyes with his newly trimmed fingernails. In a low murmur, he dragged his tall and heavy body towards the dressing room. When passing by the dutiful steel rooster, The Primarch deliberately picked it up, patted it first, then checked to see if it was broken, and then put it back on his bedside.

Then, as if he had thought of the hard work of this respectable little metal guy, he turned around and sternly patted the stubborn creature that he had just thrown away a minute ago.

"Thank you for your continued dedication and tenacity, Gargoyle."

Conrad whispered the name he had given to his alarm clock, and he named every object in his room with a Nostramo touch: in this way the Primarch remembered The cold and cold homeland in his heart where sins are unforgivable.

Then, he turned around, walked into the bathroom, and started washing.

Terra time, 5:31 a.m., Conrad's day officially started.

——————

In fact, given the reality of the expedition fleet traveling freely through the galaxy, and the existence of subspace, a chaotic quagmire that subverts physics and astronomy, it is difficult to determine an accurate time on any battleship of the Great Expedition. Extremely difficult thing.

Even on the greatest Glory Queen-class battleship, the same is true. Many soldiers under Morgan actually have little concept of time. They move according to the schedule promulgated by the legion, or follow the activities of other battle brothers. to infer time.

And even those mortals who need accurate time to carry out their work can only follow a rough interval. It is a great thing to be able to adjust the accuracy to within five minutes: after all, they have to carry out subspace operations anytime and anywhere. Navigation, every time you travel through the warp, all time adjustments lose value.

However, unlike the Dawnbreakers or mortals, Konrad, as the Primarch, always has certain privileges: yes, even in the fair field of time, there is soil that can nourish privileges, and there are A big shot who can enjoy privileges.

Conrad is certainly one of them.

After all, when the note [Twenty Years of Compulsory Education] was pasted on his face, what came with it was the diligent [Gargoyle], which Morgan It was forcefully stuffed into Conrad's palm, and he couldn't help but refuse at all.

The Spider Queen easily uses her psychic skills in front of her blood relatives: this clock is not only stubborn enough to withstand the wrath of the Night King, but also has some kind of stable connection with the sacred Terra thousands of miles away, no matter in the galaxy No matter the angle, it will faithfully walk on the time of Holy Terra.

With this, Conrad's studies began.

It only took the Nostramo man three minutes to finish washing himself. He did not wash his hair today, but began to rummage through the cabinets to find his own dental floss and razor: for Conrad, from corruption In the clutches of the Corpse Queen, he preserved his long black hair and the right to wash his hair every two days. This was the first great victory worth remembering, but the price was that he had to make his teeth and chin look harmonious. Same white].

And as the [Midnight Ghost of Midnight Ghost], Morgan made it clear to her blood relatives that she would check whether Conrad had done this from time to time, and based on this, decide whether to keep Conrad. Virtue's long hair.

For this reason, the Nostramo people diligently protect their teeth, waiting for the inspection that will come at any time: However, until today, the inspection has not come.

Was he deceived?

Confusion like this flashed through Conrad's mind, enough to make him stop and think for a while, but the answer was often business as usual: after all, when it came to Morgan, Nostramo People have learned a lesson called caution.

He paid a lot of tuition.

Conrad snorted softly, and while using a razor to hang off the soft short beard on the left side of his chin, he slowly groped around the room, constantly dodging the books and notebooks he threw everywhere.

His destination was a table that was wide enough to place a sand table. On it was a Dracula fortress listed with various classics. Next to it stood a dim wall lamp, no brighter than a candle. It doesn't light up much, and the books are placed very cleverly, which reminds people of the old Gothic buildings that rely on each other on Nostramo. The beams that support these tall buildings are small, but they are small. Also a horrifying skull sculpture.

This is Conrad's work of art: he used reasonable and legal means to obtain the raw materials, and even paid the equivalent of ownership. They are his sacred and inviolable private property, and not even the Spider Queen can easily snatch them away.

The Primarch put down his razor. When his eyes wandered over the bone sculptures, concepts such as the [Declaration of Human Rights] and [The Sanctity of Private Property] overflowed from his mind involuntarily. came out, which made him feel a little distressed.

Frankly speaking, the Primarch hated this knowledge because he did not think he would have any use for it, and these concepts and words were not learned by him voluntarily, but by the Spider Queen holding her invisible whip. Holding the heavy concept and noble status of the word "Midnight Ghost" in Conrad's heart, forcing him to learn: or, in other words, rote memorization.

How could such knowledge be respected and applied by Conrad?

Thinking of this, the Night King couldn't help but laugh contemptuously, but when his eyes swept over the fusion of the desk and the bone sculpture, other concepts popped up: He lived on Morgan's battleship and did not pay rent. , are those rooms considered gifted to him by Morgan, and are they considered his personal property?

"What are you thinking, Conrad!"

A low roar came from the Nostramo's throat. He waved his claws toward the air in front of him, mocking his behavior with a sharp sound, his face full of silent anger. .

And it was at this moment that his ears caught the slight knock on the door.

"……coming."

The King of Night responded in a low voice. He glanced at the table, picked up a few notebooks placed in the center, walked to the door, smoothed his breath as much as possible, and smoothed his long black hair. Pin it behind your ear.

When he opened the door, he only saw Virgo standing at the door pushing a dining cart.

"What are we eating today?"

Conrad knelt down and glanced at the expressionless Virgo: The King of Night had the same affection and appreciation for her as [Gargoyle] for the original maid who had been working diligently to deliver his meals.

"Or mango jam?"

When Conrad took the plate filled with bread and milk, he expressed dissatisfaction with the ingredients.

"I want apple peach."

"..."

Virgo blinked: It was clear that just a few months ago, this sullen cousin Nostramo would just take away the food without saying a word, no matter what was on it.

Maybe his mother made a mistake by allowing him to advance his academic progress to [Human Rights Law]?

Virgo was thinking secretly, but on the surface, she still maintained her absolute indifference, trying hard not to let Conrad see what was going on in her heart.

"This is a battleship, not a hotel, Lord Conrad, and the code of conduct given to you by the original body does not seem to indicate that you have the right to be picky about food: please believe that each of your breakfasts is specially nutritious. Proportionately, you need mangoes more than apples and peaches.”

"I remember my code of conduct didn't prohibit me from protesting in Morgan's throne room."

"..."

"Do you want me to try it now and defend my freedom?"

"..."

Damn, this guy is getting tougher than he was a few months ago.

Virgo's slight frown did not escape Conrad's eyes, which made his gloomy mood in the morning a lot brighter. Then, he put the book in his arms into the dining car.

"Yesterday's homework: Although I have never been able to understand, what is the relationship between mathematics and law."

"Lovers' relations in the realm of logic, Your Excellency Conrad."

Virgo responded coldly, and took out a brand new book from the compartment at the bottom of the dining car. Seeing this, Conrad couldn't help but raise his eyebrows.

"Oh... today is the morning quiz day?"

"Please complete them while eating breakfast, Lord Conrad: these are knowledge points that you have studied or reviewed in the past few months. The level of difficulty is not high, mainly in the fields of logic and history."

"I don't love either discipline."

"You don't love any subject."

Conrad smiled.

"You can't say that, little guy who serves my blood relatives: I really like that historical elective book about the secret police, and those dystopian literary works. They have very high... practical value."

Virgo looked at the smile on the Nostramo man's face and keenly observed that Conrad's cheeks on both sides had become a lot plumper: his face was still thin, but it was no longer the terrifying sight like a skeleton. , and a kind of elegance that can be called slender, accompanied by that pale smile full of teasing.

"When you meet with Lord Morgan, she would like you to bring your test book with you."

"Please tell her I will."

"Oh, by the way, please also tell her: when will my application for dining in the public canteen be approved? I really can't bear the little guy like you running around pushing the dining cart every day. That will make me I feel like a stupid noble."

Virgo, who had already pushed the dining cart away, raised his head when he heard this.

"The public canteen will only be open to members of the Dawnbreaker Legion and their subordinates, as well as invited visitors for free. Lord Conrad, it seems that you are not among them."

"It doesn't matter."

The Nostramo people's smiles can almost be called "brilliant".

"I can help in the kitchen and earn money for meals."

"My knife skills are pretty good, which will definitely impress them."

"...I don't doubt that."

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