40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 41 41. A Dinner Party ([-])
The dinner party is being prepared intensely, and many people are busy.

The proud chef, the courteous and expectant waiter, the recorder who moves his fingers waiting to write the record, the painter who adjusts the paint.
They are not the protagonists of the banquet, but they will be proud to be its annotations.

So, the dinner party went ahead as scheduled.

In fact, of course it would take place - on this ship, no one could violate the will of the one called the Emperor.His word is the law, and his will the will of all.

But sometimes there are exceptions.

"Lord!"

The giant in the white gold-rimmed robe sighed when he heard the voice of Constantine Waldo.

Then he turned and responded in a gentle tone: "I am here, Constantine."

"Why—" His marshal stood there in disbelief. "—why?"

"What why?"

"banquet!"

"You want to ask why I don't let you stand behind me as dead statues as usual?"

"That's our duty!" Constantine Waldo said sullenly. "How can the emperor of mankind not be accompanied by the imperial army at the banquet?!"

"I just want to have a meal with my boys, and I haven't done so since the beginning of this journey. Constantine, I beg you"

The giant rubbed the center of his brows wearily, and the action caused the laurel crown on his forehead to shake: "...Occasionally, I need to become someone other than the emperor."

"Does the palm printer agree?"

"This is just a dinner party, Constantine, does this kind of thing also need his permission?"

The giant shook his head amusedly. He knew what his marshal meant, and he just wanted to seek some support from Malcador—constantine would also use political means.

He doesn't use it much, but he does.He must too.Unknowingly, the giant's thoughts began to drift to a certain ancient time. At that time, he was not as tired as he is today.

But I don't want to use political tactics right now.Constantine.

I just want to sit back and enjoy a dinner party.For this reason, I even have to live up to the expectations of those recorders and painters.

I must.

He stared silently at his marshal.

".I understand, my lord."

"Thank you, Constantine," said the giant sincerely.

Seeing this scene, the emotions in Marshal of the Forbidden Army disappeared in an instant.
-
The moment the resplendent and heavy door was closed, the dinner officially began.To Fulgrim's surprise, there were very few dishes on the table, and all of them were dishes he had never seen before.

In the past, he would have cared a lot and even asked - after all, the dishes at the banquet could reflect their father's preferences to some extent.

But now...he's just silent.

He leaned back in his chair without saying a word, as silent as Ferrus Manus.The latter sat beside him without questioning or seeking eye contact.

He just exists - that's enough.

Ferrus was always patient.

But someone didn't.

"Father?" Lorgar's voice sounded from the other side of the long table. "Is this a new dish developed by the chefs? It looks delicious."

"No," said the Emperor quietly. "It existed a long time ago."

"And this tableware too, father?" asked Rogal Dorn.

He was dressed in white and blue clothes, his collar was buttoned tightly, and under his short gray hair, his eyes were staring thoughtfully.

He held two long wooden sticks in his hands, which might be regarded as weapons for a mortal, but they could only be used as tableware in the hands of a demigod like him.

The Emperor nodded slowly.

"They were just made, I suppose, father?" Lorgar asked, eagerly, as if impatient for approval.

And his father nodded again, affirming Luo Jia's question.The latter immediately smiled and explained in a low voice to Conrad Koz next to him.

"It's round to the touch, but it doesn't have the engravings you'd find on a knife and fork. Plus, I've never seen it before. So I knew it must have just been made."

Conrad Koz nodded: "It's called chopsticks."

Luo Jia was taken aback.

"What, what?" he asked, blinking. "Brother, what did you just say?"

"Chopsticks, its name." Coz said. "Khalil has used it before."

After saying this, a man of normal size next to him raised his head helplessly but calmly—and after that, all eyes except the Emperor were focused on his face.

If it were an ordinary mortal, the society might have already started to tremble.

But he didn't.

Khalil Rohars nodded slowly. "Yes, my lord Primarchs, it's called Chopsticks."

"No offense—but how would you know?" Lorgar asked, frowning.

When he was asking questions, he kept turning his eyes to look at his father, but his father was just tasting some meat scooped out of the clear soup, with a calm expression on his face, as if he didn't pay attention to what happened here.

"I've used it," Khalil said quietly. "Conrad already said that, didn't he?"

On the other side, Roger Dorn narrowed his eyes.This familiar way of speaking gave him a strange sense of déjà vu.

But, for one thing, Caryl Rohars, who had taught their brothers such goodness, could not have been the sort of man he conjectured in his mind at the moment.

Secondly, he didn't think anyone would dare to imitate him in front of the emperor.

"Have you used it?" Lorgar straightened his back in surprise. "But--"

"—that's enough, Lorgar," the Emperor interrupted majestically. "Our guest has not eaten any food so far, but you have asked him several questions."

He paused for a moment, looked at Lorgar, then shook his head.

Other than that, he didn't say anything.

The golden-skinned giant nodded reluctantly, picked up the tableware called chopsticks, and waved it without a teacher.

The silent eating lasted for a while, and Khalil used the chopsticks calmly but unfamiliarly. The way he picked up the food caught Lorgar's attention.

When the latter saw his unfamiliar movements, he couldn't help laughing at a certain moment. Although it was fleeting, Curz still caught it.

Khalil noticed this, and had to touch his calf with his heavy boot to keep Curz from doing something he shouldn't.

But in the end not everyone wants to keep silent.

After taking a deep breath, Fulgrim stood up slowly.

"Mr. Caryl Rohars" He lowered his head, his neatly combed silver hair was tied up behind his head, and his handsome face was shrouded in a kind of darkness at this moment.

He spoke in a low voice.

"I want to apologize to you."

Lorgar's eyes widened, Ferrus shook his head as expected, Rogal Dorn listened silently.The Emperor was still tasting the food.

Khalil glanced sideways at Midnight Ghost, who turned his head away, without saying a word, and conveniently put the chopsticks on the table.

+Mr. Neos. +
+ I will not interfere, this is between you. +
Khalil pursed his lips, and he had to stand up—or, to be precise, jump off the chair that allowed him to reach the table, and echo Fulgrim's words.

"Why?" he asked, so calmly that even Lorgar felt a sudden pang of irritation.He concealed it well, but was caught by Conrad Koz.

The latter glanced at him again.

"Because of my arrogance." Fulgrim said with his head bowed. "I hurt your adopted son, my brother."

"He was never my adopted son, there was no such relationship between us."

"But you raised him."

"Just partners doing the same job."

Roger Dorn glanced at Conrad Curz, who was unexpectedly calm at the moment—there was no fluctuation in those eyes, and he didn't feel anything about Khalil's words.

Don frowned.

"I wanted to interrupt, sorry."

He also stood up and asked seriously. "What's going on, Fulgrim? Father throws this feast to welcome our brother back, and you're here apologizing to his adoptive father?"

"It's a collaborator."

"The title is just a title, and the substantive relationship is the most important." Dorn said. "Mr. Carrier, you should know about this."

Khalil raised his eyebrows slowly - this was a bit beyond his expectation.

He knew the Primarchs only by name, and only shortly before the feast began.He was told by a waiter standing on tiptoe on the steps with pride and arrogance.He never thought that one of these demigods would be like this.
straight man?

He smiled slightly.

"Because I hurt our brother's feelings, Roger."

Pain flickered in Fulgrim's violet eyes, and the silver-armed giant sitting beside him sighed indistinctly.He didn't look at him, but seemed to know everything.

"Like you said, Roger, you should apologize for doing something wrong, don't you? And I'm doing this right now. I can't think of a more solemn occasion than a dinner party, and I have to use it to express My apologies."

Fulgrim raised his head stubbornly: "I must, Rogge, I must."

+You really don't intend to-+
+ Yes, I should not speak out to stop or intervene in such moments, I should be a fair watcher. +
Khalil sighed.

"So, this is probably a misunderstanding." He said calmly.

His High Gothic language no longer has any accent, and with his current appearance, he is as noble as a lord or governor. "And misunderstandings are always easy to clear up, don't they, Conrad?"

"."

As he watched, Conrad Curze—or the Night Ghost—finally reluctantly rose to his feet.

Lorgar Aurelion watched all this dumbfounded.

　Let me talk about the launch first, 7.1 will be launched, and thirty chapters will be updated by then.

　　
　　
　
(End of this chapter)