40k: Midnight Blade.

Chapter 135 38. Mourning for the Funeral ([-])
"I don't understand," Marius Gage said very quickly. "Why don't you need anyone to accompany you? Even if you don't need the Ever Victorious Army, at least you need a guard of honor, right?"

"And to torture my ears and their own lungs by making them keep playing tunes I've heard hundreds of thousands of times? No, forget it, thank you, Marius, but I don't really need any accompanied by people."

Robert Guilliman shook his head, buttoned the third button of his collar, and then sighed.

"I know what you want to say, Marius." Lord Macragge said in a low voice. "But I also want you to trust my brother."

"I believe your brother, but since you plan to tell your brother straight about his adoptive father's death, I think you'd better take some people with you," replied Marius Gage stiffly. "Otherwise I will report this matter to Ms. Euton as well."

Guilliman looked at him dumbfounded, and after staring for a few seconds, Marius Gage finally lowered his head.

"...sometimes people's actions can tell more than their words," Guilliman's First Chapter Master said in a low voice. "You don't plan to take anyone down, what are you going to do?"

"I believe you already know the answer, Marius." Robert Guilliman replied calmly. "I'll take all the wrath I need - I deserve it. Khalil Rohars wouldn't have died if I hadn't invited him with him."

Marius Gage finally had nothing to say.

Their primarch is, for the most part, very reasonable, and he listens carefully to the advice of anyone who disagrees.Except for this kind of time.

At such times, Robert Guilliman would become very stubborn—his principles and a certain bottom line made him not give in to anyone at such times unless he achieved his goal.

Ten minutes later, he and his brother met inside a transport plane.

Angron was still wearing that suit; he had nothing else suitable for serious occasions.At this moment, he was standing shoulder to shoulder with Robert Guilliman.And the Lord of Macragge could see some subtle clues in his brother's face.

"You spent a lot of time convincing them, too?" Guilliman asked.

"It's more than just a lot of time." Angron replied in a low voice. "I've never spoken as much in my life as today, every company commander, every lieutenant, everyone I know - they've all tried to talk me out of it."

Robert Guilliman imagined the absurd scene for a moment, and he should have laughed, but he didn't.He just lowered his head heavily.

".They were just worried about you," Guilliman whispered.

"Worried that I will be killed by one of my brothers?" Angron shook his head. "I'm sure he's not that kind of guy."

"You haven't seen him, Angron."

"Aren't you too?"

"I had a correspondence with him. And he was very mature in the letters, not commensurate with his age. According to the time calculation, he is already two years old. And now, we will tell a two-year-old child, The person he regarded as his father is dead, and even his bones are gone.”

He stopped talking and began to gaze at Nostramo's Eternal Night through the porthole.He knew some basic conditions of this planet, and he also knew how harsh its environment was. He had heard specific descriptions from his brothers.

Not so Angron.

The gladiator from Nuceria frowned unconsciously, and began to stare at this eerie city.

He could see the areas of buildings that had been altered since, but he could also see the spooky buildings and the still-stained sky.From these things alone, it is not difficult for him to imagine what Nostramo used to be like.Moreover, he actually heard some fragments shared by Robert Guilliman.

The upper-class nobles who led the crowd to eat cannibals, and the extremely harsh living environment, these two points sounded terrible, not to mention witnessing it with his own eyes. During his gaze, Angron almost regarded this gloomy world as some kind of life-threatening death. Feed on monsters.

".Did you know, Robert?" he said suddenly after a brief silence.

"what?"

"There are two kinds of slaves in this world, which are essentially divided into two types. I have been thinking about this question for a long time, and now I finally get the answer."

The gladiator turned his head, looked at his brother, and spoke solemnly.

"One is a natural slave. They are always eager to be mastered by another person or something. In essence, they are just pure Mu Qiang, but they are not just as simple as Mu Qiang."

"The second type is the slave who was oppressed the day after tomorrow. This kind of slave can be the Nucerian who was forced to become a gladiator by violence, or the slave who was forced to become a gladiator on Nostramo. A person who is coerced and has to kneel down."

Angron shook his head seriously: "No one should live like this."

"And that's how Conrad Curz lived before, brother." Robert Guilliman smiled palely.

silence.

The cabin was landing, and the metal that made up the ground they were standing on vibrated endlessly, making an unpleasant noise that could almost be regarded as a kind of torture, reflecting each other with the primarch's inner mania.But, anyway, they all landed smoothly and touched the ground 10 minutes later.

A five-month wait is coming to its final conclusion today.

Angron let out a heavy breath of air, and walked out of the hatch together with Robert Guilliman.The cold temperature and bad smell came to their faces, and a figure in a black robe was waiting for them not far from the apparently newly built tarmac.

With the Primarch's vision, they could easily see the pale face.

The completely dark eyes stayed quietly above the high cheekbones, the bridge of the nose was high, and the lips were thin, which now became a curved line.Conrad Coates smiled, like a perfect pale sculpture.

His face is perfect enough, but his long black hair and tall and thin figure in the back of his head add a more mysterious temperament to himself under the reflection of the night, it is almost as if the night itself is smiling Regards.

"Good evening, my brothers, first meeting." Conrad Koz approached with a smile. "I hope my presumptuous request didn't confuse you, but I really can't return to the Nightfall to meet with you today. Nostramo needs me."

Robert Guilliman did not immediately answer Conrad Koze's words.He glanced past the Lord of the Eighth Legion, scanning the darkness behind him.

"...Good evening, Conrad." Guilliman finally spoke. "Are you waiting here alone?"

"Ah, my legion doesn't have many people." Konrad Koz spread his hands apologetically. "So there is no way to set up a military formation for you to review-they need to be on duty, and I can't let them miss work."

"I'm sure it's not a big deal," Angron replied quickly. "After all, we didn't bring anyone with us either."

"Um"

Conrad Koz frowned in distress: "Why?"

"It's nothing, Conrad." Guilliman quietly covered the matter up. "Nostramo is very different from what I heard from Fulgrim and the others. I hope the supplies I sent can help you."

"Of course!"

Conrad Koz laughed happily: "And the five hundred Ultramarines you sent—they all helped a lot!"

Out of the corner of his eye, Angron saw Robert Guilliman's eyes twitching slightly.

"."

"Robert? Why don't you talk?"

".No, no, it's okay, I just—"

"--only?"

Conrad Koz raised his eyebrows and continued to ask softly.

"If you have something to say, just say it. You too, Angron, although it is indeed the first time we have met, but I think you should feel the same as me, right?"

He turned his head and looked at Angron.The Nucerian accepted the soft gaze in silence, feeling his cheeks tingle as if he were being cut into pieces.

After a moment, he nodded, acknowledging what Conrad Coates had said.He needed only one glance to know that this man must be his brother, there was no doubt about it, the call of instinct was unmistakable.

But because of this, Angron began to feel more and more guilty.He's suppressing his talent, he's not letting it work, he doesn't want himself to perceive what Konrad Curze is thinking... because Robert Guilliman is about to tell the truth.

Lord Macragge took a deep breath.

"Angron and I have some bad news for you. I believe you have also discovered that Karil Rohars, the instructor of your regiment, did not land with us. He was invited by me to participate in the attack on the horses. Exploration of the star field around Kurag, and died in a disaster. We have not been able to find his body."

Robert Guilliman bowed his laurels deeply, and Angron took up the conversation after a brief silence.

"...he died to save my Legion," the Nucerian hoarsely said. "I don't know how to express my apologies to you, and my respect for him, Conrad Coats. But I hope you will—"

Angron frowned suddenly, because he found that his pale brother was still smiling, not only that, but the smile even seemed to be expanding.

"-forgive you?" Conrad Curz asked softly. "No, no, I don't think it's necessary."

Guilliman raised his head in amazement, just in time to see Konrad Curze's flipped wrist, a flash of silver light flashed away, and a short knife that hurt the eyes was taken by the Eighth Army at an extremely fast speed. The Lord was in his hands, and his expression finally returned to calm at this moment.

The air started to get colder and colder.

Amidst his brothers' silence—even a vague sense of relief—Konrad Kotz spoke slowly.

"Because he didn't die, I don't have to forgive you." He said calmly. "But you should be grateful for the knife."

After he finished speaking, he turned around without looking back, and disappeared into the darkness.Guilliman and Angron stood there stunned, but heard a sigh behind them, and then a familiar voice.

"I persuaded him, but he insisted on it." The voice belonging to Khalil Rohars sounded in the darkness. "I'm sorry that your long journey has only come to such a result. But I'm actually very grateful. If this funeral is actually held, I'm afraid I will be quite embarrassed."

Robert Guilliman turned around as if facing an enemy.

　The update is complete, counting tomorrow's 6K words, this month has updated 27 words.

　　
　
(End of this chapter)