40k: Midnight Blade.

Chapter 66 65. The Eighth Legion (one, five in one chapter)

Conrad Koz never imagined that time would pass so fast.

Fourteen days, has it passed like this?
This rare study time was a very fulfilling process for him. He only lost his mind once, and after that, he never happened again.

Fulgrim once tested whether Kalil had said something about this, and he told Curz that he didn't have to take it too seriously.But Conrad Koz just denied it with a smile.

In fact, Khalil never asked how his classes and studies were going.

He didn't need to ask either.

And now.
"We're leaving, brother."

Standing on the deck of the Emperor Mirage, the Chemos spoke in a solemn tone.

"The galaxy is vast, and we have a few brothers still wandering among the stars like you. Everyone is looking for them. Father and we will not let them wander. So, as promised, we are leaving gone."

Conrad Cozmo nodded silently, but he didn't know what to say at such an important moment.He had a lot to say, but he couldn't say a word.

Apart from the Primarchs, no one stayed on this deck.Curz didn't know whose order it was, but he could guess.

But, why do you still not choose to appear at this time?

He pursed his lips and nodded.Fulgrim smiled and patted his chest. He no longer wore the purple tulle he once loved, but dressed very smartly, with a thick notebook in his hand.

"How about I tell you the name I gave it next time we meet?" Fulgrim asked, blinking.

"it is good."

Ferrus Manus stepped forward and smiled.

These days, it wasn't the first time Curz had seen him smile, but frankly speaking, this was the first time he had seen Ferrus smile so naturally.

"We'll see each other someday, brother. It won't be long."

Next came Rogal Dorn—'The Rock' stepped forward calmly and nodded to him.

His face was expressionless, but he said very sincerely and seriously: "Take care, Conrad."

"Is that what you want to say?" Fulgrim shouted beside him in disbelief. "We discussed it for several days before—!"

"—he didn't say anything," said Roger Dorn quietly. "Never mind, Conrad. Anyway"

He was silent for a moment, and finally patted the shoulder of this brother who was still smaller than him with his right hand.

"See you later, brother, take care."

After saying this, he turned around and gave way.Lorgar Aurelion came forward with a complex expression. When he saw him, Curz's expression also became complicated.

"...I don't know what to say, brother." Lorgar said in a low voice. "But please believe me, I have absolutely no ill intentions for you."

Staring into those eyes, Curz nodded slightly.

He knew Lorgar wasn't lying—maybe Lorgar Aurelion had said something wrong to Khalil, but that didn't mean he was denying Lorgar everything.

If he did, Khalil would be the first to be upset about it.

"I trust you, Lorgar," he whispered. "But I also ask you to stop talking about Khalil like that"

Without answering, the golden-skinned giant just sighed heavily.He held the tome tightly in his hand, and gave his brother a sad but still warm smile.

"Goodbye, bro, they've said a lot to take care, so I won't say much more. But I'll be praying for you, every day."

Lorgar Aurelion pursed her lips.

"Peace to you, peace to Nostramo."

"Thank you."

The moment of farewell was fleeting, and the Primarchs departed, leaving the deck empty again.Conrad Koz was still standing here, as if waiting for something.

Five minutes later, a tall giant came from the other end of the deck.He walked through those wide portholes with a flat expression, but it seemed as if he was born here.

"Conrad," he greeted. "how?"

"...10 minutes." Conrad Koz replied in a low voice. "They will dock with the Emperor's Mirage from here. That ship is called Nightfall."

"Night. It fits Nostramo very well."

The giant smiled. He was far taller than Conrad Curz, but their faces were equally pale, and even their eyes were equally black and bottomless.

"So, have you figured out what to do?" Khalil asked gently. "I remember, we discussed this topic last night."

".Forgan said, I need a speech, but I don't need a belly script."

"Well, speech." Khalil nodded. "Indeed, such an important occasion calls for a speech. Impromptu. Seems good."

"Then... I'm going to remember all of their names." Conrad Koz said seriously.

Khalil raised an eyebrow in surprise. "It's not an easy job, Conrad."

"You know that they have a full 2 people? Although this number is not much compared with other legions, but you have to connect these names with their faces and personalities one by one. You Are you really going to do that?"

"Yes." Conrad Coates said firmly.

"If they're really my Legion, then that's what I should do. I should respect them, shouldn't I, Khalil?"

The giant who was named and questioned laughed dumbfounded after a while of silence.

He nodded: "Yeah, yes, you should respect them, while there is still time, remember the other thing we discussed last night?"

"."

"Conrad?"

"."

"Come on, Conrad. We agreed."

Midnight Ghost retorted with a hiss: "You're fine."

Khalil's expression became very strange, and he asked softly: "Really? Then how do you plan to explain to them that I am a giant with a height of [-] meters and [-]?"

".I have no idea."

"No, no, you can't answer them with the four words I don't know."

Khalil laughed again, but this time, he seemed somewhat helpless. "Come on, tell me, how are you going to introduce me to them?"

"...you are a Nostramo."

"Very good, then what?"

"...you raised me."

"It's just a partner."

"Khalil, can you stop saying that word?"

"Why?"

".If you mention it again, I will answer them that I don't know."

Khalil threw up his hands in surprise, in an ancient ritual. "Okay. So, after that?"

"you--"

Midnight Ghost blinked, raised his head, and began to fiddle with the pendant presented by Fulgrim on his chest.

"—You were rewarded by the emperor for this, and he transformed you, so you can be four meters two tall."

"...making up a completely unrealistic story is not much different from telling a lie, Conrad."

Khalil frowned.

"I don't remember that I ever taught you to lie. Besides, how do you want them to believe that the transformation technology mastered by the Emperor can make a person grow to [-] meters? I'm even taller than you!"

"Then what should we do?" Ghost asked blankly. "I don't want you to disguise yourself with psionic energy, it's so weird."

"What's weird?"

"It's just weird." Ghost persisted.

"."

Khalil could not help but sigh.

"Well, let's not discuss this matter for the time being. But I won't appear in front of them right away, you can go to meet them first, give a speech, parade, how about it?"

"Then where are you going?"

"I'm not going anywhere." With a sigh, Khalil tapped his temple.The cold light of the two points of Sen Lan was fleeting, and he just disappeared without a trace.

Midnight Ghost's eyes widened. "Khalil?"

"I'm here."

A familiar voice came from beside him. "That's it, Ghost no, Conrad Curtz. Stop speaking Nostramo when you're on board, understand?"

"Oh"

"Straighten your back."

"Oh."

".Remember, don't be nervous."

"it is good!"
-
Take a deep breath.

Take a deep breath and calm down, Fair Zalost.You've imagined a scene millions of times, haven't you?

Nothing to get excited about, keep calm, stay peaceful, and keep your pride and honor as a member of the glorious Eighth Legion.

Show your genetic father what you look like, make him proud, make him smile.
Take a deep breath.

Fair Zalost opened his eyes in boredom.

An annoying pale face swayed from side to side in front of him, and even tapped their fingers on each other deliberately, making the sound of steel clashing.And this sound was the main reason for interrupting his meditation.

He snapped: "I swear to the father of genes, Adbiman Basley, if you make that annoying noise in front of me again, I'll put you in the infirmary for six weeks!"

"Oh, six weeks? The doctors are going to kill me."

Although he said such words, there was a triumphant smile on Adbiman Basili's pale face.

He tapped on his breastplate, so emblazoned with the Imperial Aquila's decoration. The MK2 Expedition Power Armor was spotless and reflected the light, the joints were well oiled and had obviously been serviced not long ago.

He grinned and started laughing loudly.

"Look at your appearance, Lord Zaloster. How can you still have the appearance of the Eighth Legion?"

"We were chosen by the emperor to atone for our crimes. We are the judges of crimes. We destroyed the conspiracy of Saragon and the heresy of the group of private breeding psykers, and you are so upset now?!"

He rolled his eyes involuntarily and started yelling loudly.

"My lord, someone help me forget Fel Zalost! He is far from the reliable man I remember!"

Taking a deep breath, Fair Zalost slowly stood up.

He is also wearing a precious MK2 power armor, the gloomy blue and black make up the main colors of the armor, the shape of a human skull is carefully outlined in white on the iron surface, and the double-headed eagle logo is on the right shoulder sparkling with light.

"Are you done? I know what you're looking for, Adebeman."

He suppressed his anger and asked.

"I said it all, and I voted for the dismissal in fairness—have you figured out what's going on, Adebeman? Is that pathetic lust for power all you've got in your head?"

"that power?"

Adbeman smiled, but it was a sneer.

"The power is with me, shit isn't it!"

He cursed in High Gothic mixed with a Terran slang. "I am your adjutant, I am your adjutant! Adjutant! Fair Zalost!"

"You are our company commander and think tank director. Why do you want to resign from your post?! If the father of genes refers to a new third company commander, how will our brothers respond? Hmm? Let alone that brother in the end How would it feel, you tell me, what are we going to do?"

Fair Zalost pursed his lips, completely suppressing his anger in his heart.He could see Adbiman's sadness at the moment, and he could fully understand the reason for his sadness.

But
"This decision is a conclusion jointly reached by the eight company commanders and all the team captains after 47 meetings, Adebiman."

"We unanimously agreed to step down and retain only the most basic ranks and establishments, so that the Primarch can better accept and manage his legion. Tell me, Adbeman, is this decision not justified?"

Adbiman Basley did not answer.

"Answer me, Adbiman Basley!" Phil Zalost shouted in his usual commanding tone.

Immediately after—

"—Right, company commander!" Adbeman immediately replied in a low voice. "It's perfectly justified, there's nothing wrong with it."

Fel Zalost stared at the bowed warrior, at his brother, and after a moment of silence, he sighed.

"You have to let me scold you and exercise the power I have given up to make you happy, don't you?"

"The company commander of the third company has and can only be Phil Zalost." Adbeman replied in a low voice.

"Don't make me sound so noble." Phil shook his head.

"We are all sons of criminals, and we are covered with iniquity. Every battle we fight is redemption, every second we live is a stolen time, and it is the Emperor's mercy that makes us stand here."

"But at least you are much better than some people." Adbeman said softly.This sentence is less like a rebuttal and more like a narrative.But what he said made Phil frowned suddenly.

"Who?" Fair looked at him sternly.

"Those people—you know who I'm talking about, Captain."

"Call me Fell, or Zaloster, or just call me brother."

"...Anyway, you know who I'm talking about."

Adebiman said in a low voice. "They are also full of sins, but they don't cherish this precious opportunity. They deserve to die just like their father."

"Be careful, Adebiman, they are also our brothers."

Adebiman shook his head and did not refute this sentence.He left the quiet meditation room and went to the bridge, leaving Fair Zalost alone.

He stood there calmly, with a worried expression on his face.Although what Adbeman said was not recognized by him, Fair actually knew very well that what he said was right.

The Eighth Legion is a legion of honor. However, few people know that it has tasted a lot of blood since its birth.

Its source of troops comes from Terra's underground prison - which has actually become a huge underground hive.

Without light and fresh air, darkness is the norm as always, and any light is a gift.

In such an environment, the prisoners gradually degenerate, they become cruel, strong, and intelligent.In contrast, their skin has turned pale and their personalities have become taciturn.

They call themselves the Children of the Night, and the people above the prison never bother to provoke them, just let them fend for themselves.

until the arrival of the emperor.

He picked the sons of the prisoners, he brought them out of the bleak prison, he gave them new life.
Fier Zalost closed his eyes in pain, stopping his remembrance of the Legion's dark past.He did not understand why the Emperor had chosen them, but he would not delve into why.

O Emperor, some of your legion have forgotten your favor and have unknowingly stepped into the old ways of their fathers. What should we do?

His question was not answered.The ground shook, and the mechanical sound slowly rang out. A slight sound came from the wall, and then a voice sounded from above his head.

"We are docking with the Emperor Mirage." The voice said, looking extremely solemn. "Get ready, Eighth Legion, we will meet our genetic father with our own eyes."

Yes.

Fel Zalost snapped his helmet on.

We will see it with our own eyes.
-
Straightening his back, Conrad Koz slowly walked into the dark crowd.

He walked very slowly - very slowly, in fact.

He maintained this speed, tensed his muscles, and passed them slowly.The crowd in power armor surrounded him, and although they kindly made a wide way to the main bridge,
Calm down, Conrad.He kept admonishing himself in his heart.You must be calm.

——This stiff walking lasted for 8 minutes before it ended.

At the end of the road covered with bright red carpets, a high platform appeared, without much decoration, with square edges.Conrad Curze could even tell that the metal creation had only just been built.

He lowered his head, and when he raised it again, he had already changed his serious expression.This seemed to be an instinct, and he didn't need to call it too carefully, he could use it like a command.

As he walked up to the high platform, there was a chilling feeling coming from his right wrist.

Under the stage, there are [-] pairs of expectant eyes.

How should I speak?How should I speak?How can I speak?
Conrad Coates took a deep breath.

"Good day, soldiers of the Eighth Legion."

A serious and heavy voice sounded in the next moment.His voice echoed across a deck packed with 2 people, every syllable of High Gothic flawless—his mind was blank at the moment, but he knew exactly what he was going to say, what to say.

However, he was taken aback by the sound transmitted by the installed microphone,
is this my voiceConrad Coates asked himself.I actually sound so strange?

"My name is Conrad Coates."

He ignored that feeling and continued speaking.

"Unlike you, I am from Nostramo. It is an eternal night star, and atmospheric pollution, synchronization with satellite orbits, and the weakening of the sun have formed its current appearance."

"It was cold and ruthless, and the nobles controlled everything from industry to the most basic necessities of life. They recast all order."

"This place is full of sorrow and suffering, soldiers of the Eighth Legion, I have no intention of hiding this from you. Therefore, I will tell you the truth directly. It is not perfect, and it can even be said to be destroyed, but it is my home planet .”

He paused for a moment, wondering how they would react.But the [-] pairs of eyes in the audience just stared at him calmly and silently through their eyepieces, without saying a word.

Conrad Coates knew that this was what waiting meant.

He took a deep breath again, and suddenly looked to the empty right side above the high platform.There was no one there, and the light source was cast softly from the top of his head, forming a kind of gray light in front of his eyes.Gazing there, he slowly raised his right hand.

".Also, please allow me to introduce my adoptive father to you."

His words were like dropping a bomb in the audience. The soldiers of the Eighth Army who had been silently paying attention to him looked over at this moment, their emotions were covered by their helmets and eyepieces, and Conrad Koz But calm to indifferent.

He had to.

"We'll talk about this later, Conrad"

With a sigh, a tall giant appeared at the other end of the platform.From scratch, extremely abrupt, extremely incomprehensible.

At this moment, countless dangerous voices sounded.

The sound of the gun being drawn, the sound of loading, a dangerous hum, and the sound of the powered weapon's disintegrating stance being activated—their mistrust was palpable.

Although many people put down their weapons after realizing that the object of Conrad Koz's words was this tall giant, nearly half of them still held them firmly.

"Please put down your weapons."

Conrad Coates said gravely. "This is my adoptive father, Khalil Rohars. He raised me and made me who I am because of him. Without him, I wouldn't be here."

The audience was still silent, and a few seconds later, the slight sound became one.

The warriors of the Eighth Legion complied with their Primarch's plea.Even if they are full of doubts now.

"Thank you very much," said the pale giant sincerely. "I don't know what to do otherwise—I learned about it fourteen days ago."

"I learned of your existence, 2 people, who have inherited my blood. From a legal and genetic level, you are my sons, and I am extremely confused about this."

"I don't know how to face you. I have never experienced this in my past life. Now, I have seen you with my own eyes, but I still have doubts. This doubt hovers in my heart, and it has not abated."

"I still don't know how to face you. I know that you should have a lot of questions now, and they must all be about my adoptive father. But this matter is not important now, because I will explain it to you one by one. .”

"Remember, this is my promise."

"I"

The pale giant closed his eyes, then opened them again.

"I want to ask you to do one thing for me, soldiers of the Eighth Legion." He said softly. "I want you to take off your helmets and let me see your faces with my own eyes."

There was still no answer from the audience, only a series of mechanical sounds.

The helmet was removed and held between the arms of these superhuman warriors.Their faces were extremely pale, and their eyes were dark, but not completely dark like the Nostramos.

At this moment, these two thousand pairs of eyes stared at their genetic father complicatedly, no one spoke, no one made any sound, not even a murmur in the throat.

There was only silence in the huge venue at the moment.

Conrad Curz reached out and grabbed the side of the ledge to keep himself from falling over from dizziness.

He clenched his teeth, the shock of witnessing the truth forced his muscles to tense, and a different kind of throbbing began to churn endlessly in his heart.

He has never felt this kind of emotion in his life, but from the first second he felt it, he has already begun to cherish it.

The giant standing beside him glanced at him silently. Although his face was still calm, his right hand twitched slightly.

".Thank you, thank you very much."

Conrad Coates said hoarsely. "Thank you, soldiers of the Eighth Legion. It turns out that what my brother Fulgrim said is true. When I see it with my own eyes, I will understand."

"Now, I understand. You are my sons, there is no doubt about it, no one can argue it, no one can change it. But I still have one last question for you."

Holding the metal iron platform, Conrad Koz asked slowly, carefully, and softly.

"...are you willing to accept me?"
-
Waiting, nervously waiting.

The incomparable tension even made the ends of Fair Zalost's fingers start to tremble endlessly.

There was a short line in front of him, and there was only one person in front of him.But this was because two Terran hours had passed, and two Terran hours ago, the length of the team was hopeless.

And if Fair turned his head to look at this moment, he would see another long and hopeless line.

At the end of the line was a room that hadn't been cleaned for long.

Their Primarch was there - and after they had made their mark with a chorus of 'Accept', their Primarch issued his first order.

Although Fair Zalost preferred to call that remark a polite request, everyone—including him—took it as a divine order to do it.

Their Primarch said: Please prepare a room for me, warriors of the Eighth Legion, I wish to meet you one by one.I want to remember your faces, your names.This is my oath.

Who can say no?

No one can.

Three and ten minutes later, it was his turn.

at last.

Taking a deep breath, Phil slowly opened the door and walked into it.The brothers behind him stared at him silently, no one said anything, they just waited quietly.

Behind the door is a wide space, which used to be a training room, specially used to train recruits' melee skills.

In the center of the hall, there were even traces left by the training machines being violently dragged away. Needless to say, Fer could understand the embarrassment they looked like when they were dragged away.

His brothers will certainly not let the machines go away with dignity.
There are chandeliers overhead, gently hanging down, emitting a soft light.

Because they had lived underground for a long time, the soldiers of the Eighth Legion could not look directly at the sun or too bright light sources on weekdays, even after the transformation.

This is also one of their few weaknesses, so they all have night vision devices installed in the eyepieces of their helmets.

However, Fell was not wearing his helmet at the moment.He doesn't need it either.

He shuddered into an iron table behind which sat a pale giant on a chair.

His black hair was neatly combed, he was wearing a well-fitting blouse, a gleaming prism-shaped gold-plated pendant dangled on his chest, and both hands were placed on the table with neatly manicured nails.

What am I looking at?

Why should I pay attention to so many details of the Primarch's appearance, Phil Zalost thought angrily?

"Please sit down."

His original body spoke kindly, with a very soft voice, a High Gothic accent that was extremely noble.

"Only when you sit down with me on an equal footing does our conversation really begin."

Fair sat down trembling, but when he pulled away his chair, his movements were too fast, causing sparks to appear from its four feet rubbing against the ground.

He lowered his head in shame, expecting some kind of admonishment, but unexpectedly, their Primarch just spoke softly.

"Don't be nervous, what's your name?"

"...Phil Zalost."

"My name is Conrad Coates, Phil. Nice to meet you. Will you allow me to be called that?"

I?Do I allow it?

Fer looked at him blankly: "Father, father?"

The pale giant smiled softly. "Calling me Conrad or Primarch will suffice. You are Terran, aren't you? You are all Terran."

"Yes, yes, Primarch."

"Tara, what's it like?"

Fell was stunned, he didn't expect to hear such a question from his Primarch's mouth.

His heart was already very excited because of this special meeting, and at this moment he lost the ability to think directly - he froze in his seat, and it took three full seconds before he came back to his senses.

"What's wrong, Phil?"

".No, no, it's all right, Primarch. I just didn't expect you to ask me that question."

"Don't use honorifics."

".what?"

"I said, don't use honorifics, Phil." The pale giant looked at him with a relaxed and natural expression.

"Don't talk to me like this, don't be restrained, don't be too serious. I'm your Primarch, but that doesn't mean I'm superior to you. Superior is a ridiculous word, don't you think so, Fail ?”

".I, I don't understand, Primarch."

Phil Zalost said with a muddy mind. "Can I answer that question about Terra?"

He asked almost pleadingly.

Conrad Koz laughed dumbfounded - this is not the first person who has lost his composure in front of him, but every time he sees him, he feels a sour warmth emerge in his heart.

Time and time again, this feeling resurfaced again and again, leaving an indelible mark on his heart.

Conrad Koz kept this feeling in his heart.

"Of course, Phil. Actually, the right to answer or not is up to you."

Coz said softly. "If you think this question involves your privacy, you don't have to answer me at all."

Phil Zalost answered after careful consideration—it's not that he didn't hear what Konrad Koz said, but he didn't allow himself to answer this kind of question casually.

The current members of the Eighth Legion are all of Terran descent, so how could he answer such a question casually?

Moreover, he did not allow himself not to answer.

"Terra. Is the cradle of humanity, our home planet. Primarch."

Fair Zalost spoke in a low voice.

"But my impression of it is already very vague. We grew up in the old underground prison. It's almost another hive city, but it's underground."

"The environment is harsh, but we are all used to it, so no one thinks anything. I didn't see it until after the Emperor pardoned us there, after I passed the selection."

"Terra is a huge hive city, the Primarch. It's not special, and the natural environment is extremely terrifying, but, for some reason, it occupies a very important place in my heart."

"Ah, the same way I feel about Nostramo."

Conrad Koz sighed slightly. "Your description gave me a sense of déjà vu, Fell. However, Nostramo is slightly different from Terra in your description. It is special."

Fair Zalost saw his Primarch, the pale giant, grin coldly.

It was the first time he had seen such emotion on their genetic father's face, and for some reason, he felt that this was how he should look.

"special?"

"Yeah, it's very special. What's special about it is that it's very bad."

Fair looked at Conrad Kotz in astonishment, who shook his head with a smile and said, "If you want to know, I can tell you a thing or two in advance. I originally planned to arrange this matter for tomorrow's official military parade above."

"If that doesn't bother you, Primarch," Fell answered very quickly.

What are you kidding?How could he not want to know?

"I'll tell you if I've lost the honorific title," Conrad Coates said slyly. "How about it?"

".Is this a joke, Primarch?"

"No."

".I'll try."

"Very well—so, where do I begin?"

With a long sigh, Conrad Koz pursed his lips and spoke after a short silence.

"What kind of place Nostramo is, I have already roughly described it to you. However, words are very pale after all. If you can't see it with your own eyes, you may not believe that there is such a place in the world. "

"Nostramo is a planet divided and ruled by nobles and gangs, Fell. The only order it has is power and violence. Anything else is superfluous."

"People at the bottom are either workers or miners, and those two terms are even rhetorical. The real description should be slaves-no, it may even be worse than that."

"At least the slave owners regard the slaves as their private property and value their lives, don't they? But, in Nostramo, the people at the bottom... are food, materials, furniture. They are all except anything other than a person."

"The only thing they can't be is people."

Fair Zalost was stunned, he didn't know how to answer the Primarch's words.

This kind of description is appalling even in the dark underground prison at the bottom of Terra.

Prisoners were given food rations, and cannibalism was an unforgivable crime throughout the dungeons.No one would do such a thing, and this group of sinful people tacitly did not cross that line.

Even among criminals, there is a hierarchy of crime.

The descendants of the prisoners will keep in their hearts the crimes of their ancestors, warlord crimes, war crimes, serial killers, people who deceived the world. Only one of them has never been cannibal.

But
Looking at the pure black eyes of his genetic father, Fer gradually realized that he was serious.

"Surprised?" Conrad Koz asked with a smile.

The smile on his pale ghostly face was so calm, so peaceful, as if he was talking about something that had nothing to do with him.

And at this moment, Feier suddenly remembered—their genetic father grew up in such an environment.

"you"

"You." Curz shook his head. "It's 'you', Phil, and I've said it many times, don't use honorifics."

".Did you grow up in such an environment, Primarch?"

"Yes." Conrad Koz nodded with a light smile.

Apart from this, he didn't explain any more, but Phil Zalost suddenly felt a very strong anger boiling up from the bottom of his heart. This anger came so suddenly that he almost forgot a question.

Why didn't their Primarch unify Nostramo?
"We can help you." Suppressing his anger, Phil Zalost said. "We can help you clean it up, Primarch."

"That's something to discuss later."

Conrad Koz smiled, he didn't say anything else, he just stood up and stretched out his right hand to Fair.

The ancient manners are repeated today, and it is Terran, and Fel, who is of Terran origin, does not understand the meaning of this gesture at all.

The Eighth Legion has always been a loner, and their task is to punish, to punish those who dare to cross the last line.Whenever such people appear, the Emperor of Mankind sends them to sow his wrath.

As such, they hardly ever communicate with other Legions.

They even seldom communicate with the Mechanicians, let alone the Auxiliaries.

Companies and squads are the most common combat units in the Eighth Army. However, on their battlefields, there are no things like bombing, vehicle coordination, and group charges.

Their war is the complete opposite of war in the conventional sense.

Fel Zalost stared blankly at his primarch.

"It's a handshake," Conrad Coates said patiently. "An ancient etiquette, which can be used in meeting and farewell. It comes from Terra, Phil, don't you know?"

"...I don't know, Primarch." Fell bowed his head in shame.At this moment, a hand pulled his right hand surrounded by iron armor.

"The handshake was simple, Phil," Conrad Coates said with a smile. "There are no strict requirements, you just need to-see."

Pale hands tightly gripped the gloomy blue-gray steel.

Fer stared blankly at this scene, his thoughts drifting to an unpredictable distance.
-
Nightfall is a battleship of the Queen of Glory class, and each of these ships is a colossus.Khalil had read about them, but he had never imagined that a ship could be so big.

Eighteen kilometers long.
Moreover, among all the Queen of Glory battleships, the Nightfall is not even a particularly large one.

The largest, the HMS Indomitable Truth, was the first completed Queen of Honor class battleship, measuring 26 kilometers long.It belongs to the Dark Angels Legion.

An interesting name - Khalil prefers to call it the First Legion, though.This is easier to remember.

Really exaggerated data.He thought, and then recalled the weapons and equipment on the information.For Khalil, they're a little more exaggerated.

It really is the combat power of the interstellar age.
Thinking this way, Khalil walked through the dark corridor in silence—the daily living habits of these soldiers of the Eighth Legion are exactly the same as those of the Nostramos.

The same photophobia, love the dark.

The difference is that the former is a matter of habit, and even after the transformation, it is actively chosen to do so.The latter had to become what it is today in the long torment of generational change.

Nostramos have no choice.

Still, it's an eerie coincidence.

Just as coincidental as the pale skin of the warriors of the Terran Eighth Legion, and their fighting style.
Punisher proficient in quick strikes?
This kind of concept coincides with the fighting style that Khalil has always loved. In fact, if you look at the time, he is actually the imitator.

An impersonator who has never met before.

It's a pity that, with the changes in his body, 'Quick Strike' is now far from the actual situation.

In the past, he pursued speed because he couldn't love fighting, and because he didn't want to have a head-on conflict with the gangs.And now fast... because the gangs can only last so long.

Kill fast, isn't it fast?
With a chuckle, he turned his head. There was a calmness that came from nowhere on his gloomy and pale face, and those dark eyes stared at the corner of the corridor.

Just like that, he looked over there quietly for a while before turning around and leaving.Ten minutes after he left, some dark shadows flashed faintly.

— Conrad, you have really caused me a lot of trouble.

Khalil thought helplessly.Of course he knew who those people behind him were.

More than once he tried to persuade Conrad Coates, but the latter didn't seem to listen at all.

In fact, if Kalil proceeded according to his ideas, he would never reveal his identity to the public so soon.

But Conrad Coz has already done so.

In front of 2 people, he introduced Khalil Rohars so seriously and seriously that he had to show up, using the adjective even adoptive father.

A four-meter-two-tall adoptive father.

A foster father who can pop out of nowhere.

Although Conrad later promised him in a rare mature tone that he himself would explain everything to the Eighth Legion.
But Khalil still didn't know how to tell him, and the most embarrassing part of it wasn't really about explaining.

In terms of jurisprudence and blood, the [-] Astartes of the Eighth Legion are all sons of Konrad Curze.Although they only met today, this point is irrefutable.

And not long ago, in front of these 2 people, he announced openly that Khalil was his adoptive father.

I should have taught you about human relations sooner, Conrad.

With a sigh, Khalil continued on.The goal of his trip was the upper deck of the Nightfall, and he had already visited the lower deck.He intends to take a panoramic view of every detail of the ship as quickly as possible and keep it firmly in mind.

It is true that the soldiers of the Eighth Legion were very wary of him, but their Primarch had already spoken, and Khalil Rohars could move freely on the Nightfall-so they had to follow in resentment. behind.

In his heart alone, Khalil was unwilling to do such an obvious act of privilege, but since Conrad Koz had already said it, he had nothing to say.

It's not good to say, Conrad Koz, you are wrong, in front of those [-] pairs of eyes full of doubts about him.

Or, hissing in Nostramo to communicate with the Midnight Ghost—then it could get even uglier.

There are so many things to do.Khalil thought darkly as he silently stepped through the steel corridor, passed through some rumbling rooms, and reached the upper deck in the air that didn't smell very good.

It was made here as complicated as a maze, with rooms, secret passages, and corridors. One door after another, the servants staggered through it.

These flesh and steel combinations were provided by the Mechanicus - frankly speaking, Khalil didn't know much about them, but his impression of the Mechanicus was not good.The image of the servants is one of the main reasons.

Their shriveled bodies were clad in red robes, on which the emblem of the Mechanicum gleamed.

Almost all of their guts have been removed to prevent unnecessary loss of energy.

Their brains have also been operated on, and as a result, only the programmed programs and instinctive reactions are left, and they have no thoughts of their own.

Standing still, Khalil stared at a servitor staggering away.

The back of the latter's head had an exposed duct stuck in the middle of its pale back.Some semi-frozen objects like black blood flowed slowly in it.It pushed open a door and quickly disappeared into it.

Khalil couldn't help sighing again, he turned his head slightly, and glanced at the dark corridor behind him.Then, he turned around.

"Good evening, everyone." He greeted politely into the narrow corridor behind him. "Can you come out and talk?"

No one answered.

"I'm sure I'm speaking authentic High Gothic."

Still no answer.

"All right."

Khalil yelled her head.

"Those two fighters lying on the ceiling, you don't have to torture your arms anymore."

"Those three fighters squatting in the shadows behind the sixth window, and so are you. And the one standing just a few steps away from me. How well you employ the simple tactic of blacking out under the lights. "

With the end of his words, a total of six Eighth Legion Astartes who had been following him finally reluctantly came out of the darkness.

They surrounded Khalil silently, and the machine servants still came and went peacefully, not paying attention to the little episodes that happened here.Maybe it's programmed, maybe they really don't matter.

"good evening."

Khalil calmly repeated his greeting again. "How are you feeling today?"

No one answered, and after 3 minutes of staring in silence, an Astartes with the Aquila logo engraved on the top of the helmet spoke slowly, the cold blue gloomy armor gleaming.

His voice was also altered by the voice changer built into the armor, making it hoarse and terrifying.Khalil raised his eyebrows, feeling a little novel about this simple and practical terrorism tactic.

However, the Astartes did not respond to him, or greet him politely, but asked a new question very bluntly.

"who are you?"

"Caryl Rohars."

"We know your name," the Astartes replied in a low voice. "But we want to know the real answer."

"The real answer is these words, Caryl Rohars—" He smiled, raised his hand, and pointed to his pale face. "—remember?"

No one answered, only silent stares.

These six giants who were much smaller than him surrounded him fearlessly, as if they were silently extracting a confession.

Khalil was not offended by this.In fact, on the contrary, he admired their behavior.

Not everyone has this kind of courage.

Ok.

Khalil chuckled.

"Everyone must be very curious about me—and I also know that among the entire Eighth Legion, the six of you are definitely not the only ones who are curious about me."

"Not just curiosity." The Astartes who spoke first said so. "It's far more than just curiosity."

"I understand."

Khalil nodded with a smile. "And I also have a solution. On the Nightfall, there should be a large training room, right? As soldiers, you should conduct many kinds of training on weekdays, am I right?"

The six Astartes looked at each other slowly, the power armor buzzing, and then they nodded slowly and in unison.
-
"bring it on."

Khalil said softly.

He stared at the young and pale face in front of him, and slowly raised his right hand.A fierce jab and slap was completely sent away by him. However, what Khalil did was far more than that.

He grabbed the attacker's wrist and pulled forward lightly, causing him to lose his balance completely.

In a whirlwind, the attacker fell to the ground in the next second, and Khalil's left hand touched his throat, with his index finger, middle finger and thumb resting peacefully on his Adam's apple.

The young man's eyes widened, and it took three seconds for him to realize what had just happened.

His face flushed quickly, and it was easy to detect the anger on the pale skin.But this young face quickly suppressed his emotions.

Khalil smiled slightly, let go of his hand appreciatively, and let the young man stand up.

"Do you want to continue?" he asked softly.

Without answering, the young man just put on a boxing pose again in silence.

This time, he put his right hand behind him, swung it slightly, and lowered his left hand completely, with his arm bent.Khalil didn't take boxing lessons, but he quickly realized the meaning behind the position.

Put your shoulders up and then hit me with a backhand
A good strategy, and indeed it should be played like this.After all, I am much taller than him, and my arm span is much longer than him
"Are you sure?" Khalil asked again.

The young man bared his teeth angrily: "Yes!"

"Ok."

No more testing, Khalil bullied himself.

His first step was so fast that it was almost impossible to detect his next movement.

At this moment, the young man's eyes widened again, but not because he was dazed, but because he had a premonition of what was about to happen next.

He tried to raise his left hand to defend, but it was too late.Khalil grabbed his throat easily, still without force, just let his fingers rest on it calmly.

"Continue?" Khalil asked softly.

The young man gasped for a while, then shook his head in frustration and walked off the ring.

Someone who obviously knew him patted him on the shoulder and comforted him.But more people just started rushing towards the only entrance of the arena.

They didn't wear power armor, but their upper body was bare, and their faces and bodies were either weather-beaten or young.But none of that mattered, Khalil watched them calmly, waiting for the next challenger.

Although he acted so calmly, he still wanted to laugh at himself a little bit.

What are you doing?He sighed and asked himself.To fight them with bare hands is to bully them
But the people in the audience didn't let him think for too long, a new warrior walked up the steps, waved his arms proudly, and entered the iron cage.

The Astartes below the ring roared and shouted his name, proudly and loudly.

"Cyani, Cyani, Cyani!"

"Ciani?" Khalil asked softly. "You seem well-liked."

"That's not it." The soldier made a grimace. "They don't usually do that. They just think I can beat you. After all, I've been the unarmed combat champion for five years in a row."

"really?"

"That's natural!"

Ciani laughed.

"I am from Terra, Khalil Rohars, and I have no last name, but a first name. I am a prisoner's son, so you may call me Siani of Terra!"

"Okay, Siani of Terra." Khalil nodded with a smile. "How do you want to fight?"

"Of course it's unarmed combat! How else can I fight?"

Ciani grimaced again. He was not very handsome, but he acted very naturally and generously. "Come on, Rohars!"

"it is good."

Khalil stepped forward with a smile, stretched out his fist, and tried to touch him.The latter froze for a moment, but soon realized that this was a ritual action.Then, he immediately bumped fists with Khalil with a smile.

After that, their battle began.There is no extra nonsense, no bells being rung, only the slow start of the pace and the sharp eyes.

Ciani deserved his fifth consecutive championship title.

Before him, Khalil has wrestled with 130 and three people, and Siani is definitely one of the best.

He has a vicious cunning in close-quarters unarmed combat that provides him with an instinctive quick reflexes.Relying on it, Siani even repeatedly escaped Khalil's jab attack.

Not only that, but he was even able to take the time to counterattack. Three times after the counterattack, he swung his fist and flew past the tip of Khalil's nose.

"Siani of Terra, you are indeed strong."

Khalil praised sincerely, but he did not get the approval of Siani.

The latter frowned for the first time, he took the initiative to distance himself, stopped in place, leaned against the cold and gloomy iron cage made of black metal and shook his head.

"what are you doing?"

He shook his head and said so.

"You definitely have more than these two blows, Rohars. Just standing in front of you, I already feel a little short of breath, and you actually acted like you were fighting me back and forth."

"Are you insulting me?" Cyani of Terra asked sincerely.

He is very angry.Looking at that face, Khalil thought so.

"No." He replied calmly.

"Then why don't you use all your strength?!"

Ciani growled suddenly. "The Primarch calls you his foster father! I'm now fighting our Primarch's foster father face-to-face, and I'm giving it my all, Khalil Rohals! That's my respect for you! You know Does that mean anything?"

".I know."

Of course I know.

"Then let me see your full strength!"

Ciani grinned.He raised his arms and rushed straight towards Khalil.

This is completely different from the style he used in previous fights, it is almost like a desperate style of play.But Khalil can see the sincerity behind this reckless behavior.

Siani from Terra is willing to believe the words of his genetic father, willing to believe that Khalil Rohars, a giant who can make the Astartes feel terrible, is his adoptive father.

But he didn't want to believe this identity, this name, and this person.

Therefore, he had to witness the truth for himself.

Khalil clenched his right hand and stepped forward to punch.A loud, muffled bang, almost like an explosion, swept the entire arena the next moment.Ciani stopped in place in a daze, and Khalil's right fist stopped next to his right cheek.

For a while, no one spoke, not even the shouts of the Astartes below the ring.

Ciani's hearing fell into a terrible freeze. He could hear his heartbeat alternately through bone conduction, but he couldn't hear anything else. He almost thought he was deaf until Khalil asked softly. .

"Feel it?" Khalil asked softly.

"...felt it." Ciani replied with difficulty.

Sighing, Khalil didn't answer the question.He just smiled calmly, nothing else.

Two minutes later, Ciani walked off the ring.Khalil stared at the silent crowd, waiting for the next challenger.

(End of this chapter)