40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 96 94. Drama (6k)

The temporary residence of the Eighth Army Corps is located in an independent building with a total of thirteen floors, covering a vast area.

The Ultramarines did not snub them for their numbers, everything was of the highest specification, even the flag of the Eighth Legion was hoisted on top of the building.The citizens of Macragge who came and went could see it whistling against the wind at a glance, which was very unusual, after all, Macragge had no other legions visiting in the past.

Many newspapers spent a lot of time describing these soldiers from another legion. The descriptions were different, but the photos all chose the gloomy appearance of the eighth legion on the tarmac that day.

This is quite interesting. The curiosity of the Macragge people is obvious. There are even a lot of interview applications to the temporary station these days. As for who is responsible for picking up the interview, you may already have the answer.

Who else can still keep this energy alive in today's situation besides Siani of Terra?

"No, we don't do interviews," Siani said. "Yes, we are fighters from the [-]st Dalian Company of the Eighth Army, but we do not accept interviews."

He hung up the phone with an inevitable sigh—to this day, Siani couldn't figure out why Macragge was able to establish such a relationship between the Astartes and the civilians.

The latter does not regard the former as some kind of high god, but treats them as an integral part of society.The way they talked about 'Ultimate Warrior' was always proud, but not alienated, but very close.

"How many times?" Someone asked in the darkness.

——if you ask.
Yes.

They don't turn on the lights.

Without looking back, Ciani said, "The tenth time today."

"Above the Primarch. This is giving me a bit of a toothache."

"Come on, your teeth were replaced with alloys 21 years ago."

"I mean neurophantom pain," said the man in the dark. "Every time, when I'm in a bad mood, it's going to happen."

"Haven't you been in pain for 21 years, Molets?" Ciani grinned, and began to instinctively mock the adjutant of the first company.He has been punished many times for this incident, but he has not learned his lesson each time.

The latter just responded with a cold snort to his words, and then ignored him.For a while, the atmosphere in the resident office was almost as silent as a cemetery.

Whenever this happens, it means that whoever speaks next will bring the dead back to life—or say something that will make the dead jump out of their coffins in terror.

"Is the company commander dead?" Ciani asked suddenly.

"."

The adjutant didn't speak, and there was a sound of breathing in the darkness.

"Do you know anything, Moletz?"

"No, I don't know." The adjutant replied stiffly. "But I know another thing, Van Cleef will be quite angry with you for saying that."

"I'd like to see him angry," Siani muttered. "We haven't seen him for six days."

"Maybe it's official business."

"However, when he was still on the transport ship, the situation was wrong—or, since we set off, something was wrong with him. Besides, what kind of official business is enough to keep him busy for six days without going back to the station? He is not an instructor, and he never rests."

"The instructor rested."

"How do you know? Have you seen it?"

"I have seen."

Moletz nodded in the dark—to be precise, he nodded behind Siani—or more accurately, he nodded to another giant who appeared at an unknown time.

"really?"

"Of course it's true." A third voice sounded, soft and gentle. "How is it possible that I don't need to rest, Ciani?"

Siani from Terra turned his head sharply.

"Uh--!"

"No need to explain, Siani, we all hear clearly," said Molets gravely. "We're not bombarded out of hearing right now."

"I"

"I just rest less." Khalil chuckled. "But it doesn't mean I don't need to rest. A person's energy is always limited, such as your company commander."

"What's the matter with him, instructor?" asked the adjutant.

"He has been through a tough war." Khalil replied softly in the dark. "A battle to the death, and he won."

"So he's in the hospital now?" Ciani asked tentatively.

"Yes."

"Can we see him?"

"No, Ciani, unless you want to disturb his recovery."

"But I have a lot of things I want to ask him."

"Me too," Khalil said. "But I chose to wait until he recovered."

"...Is this an order?" The young man from Terra asked unwillingly.

"Yes."

Then, he heard his instructor answer in a serious tone.

"This is the order of the instructor of the Eighth Army, Siani, do you obey?"

".I obey."
-
"How does it feel to talk face to face with a giant like that, ma'am?" Robert Guilliman asked, looking down. There was a torrent of numbers on the data pad, but not a single number slipped away, they were all caught by him.

"Is this a crime, my lord? For my unauthorized action?"

"."

Guilliman didn't answer, just looked up at her.

Tallasha Eudon waited for his answer in a mortal-sized chair, sitting across from the marble table with an amused expression on her face.For a moment it seemed to Guilliman that she was still angry.But judging by the raised right half of her eyebrow, she must be joking.

For a moment, he was not sure what his housekeeper was thinking.

So he decided to be honest.

"Of course not," Guilliman said. "I'm just worried about you."

"What are you worried about me? Do you think he will be angry with me?"

"Not at all."

"Then what are you worried about, my lord?"

".Today is Saturday, ma'am, you don't go to work today, so can you stop calling me sir?"

"No, housekeepers don't have vacations - I told you that I don't like vacations, but you have to stuff me with two days of vacation a week. Do you want me to lie in bed and waste time doing nothing?"

Robert Guilliman suddenly felt a headache.

He put down the data pad and inevitably looked up at the two portraits.His adoptive mother watched the action in full view.

"I'm asking you a question, my lord." She frowned. "Even if you don't intend to answer, you shouldn't complain to your adoptive father."

Guilliman almost laughed - in his impression, Jotun seldom made jokes, let alone such childish jokes.

He tried to hide this emotion with his usual serious expression, but failed.The woman sitting across from him just let his efforts go down the drain with a deliberate frown.

Robert Guilliman finally laughed.

"I'm sorry." He smiled and apologized sincerely. "But I really can't help it, ma'am."

Tarasa Euton didn't answer, but smiled too.Between the stretched wrinkles, a sense of relief began to permeate.

"As long as you are all right, my lord," she said softly. "You silly boy really think that I'm here to ask you a question today, don't you?"

"You've done things like this before, ma'am," said Guilliman. "I remember every sarcasm you said to me. For example, last time, you said that the clothes I wore when I went to see Rogge and the others were far less serious and formal than the ceremonial armor."

"Is not it?"

"Yes." Guilliman nodded. "You embarrass me, ma'am."

"I dare not accept such an evaluation"

Guilliman did not answer this question, but instead picked up the data pad and handed it to Eutun at the other end of the marble table, who took it with both hands, and then placed it on the marble table again.

Her reading lasted about 5 minutes, during which her brows were furrowed, Robert Guilliman did not interrupt, he just waited patiently.

Patience is always a virtue.Gazing at the portraits of his fathers, Guilliman thought.

".Are you going to donate a batch of supplies?" After a brief silence, the housekeeper asked.

"Yes."

"Ninety tons of fine gold may not sound like much, but it is still worth a fortune. My lord, a batch of supplies may not be enough to show your sincerity. What's more, the Eighth Army came here with the intention of opening up a trading route."

"And this is a matter of no harm to Macragge," Guilliman took up his steward's words.

"My brother Konrad Koz said in his handwritten letter that Nostramo is a planet with sufficient adamantium production. I don't know how he defines sufficient adamantine, but... we will obviously need it. So of course it's not as simple as a batch of supplies. In fact, my sincerity is still behind."

Of course Macragge needs it, who doesn't need Adamantite?
"He wrote you a letter?" asked the butler in surprise.

She didn't care about adamantium and trading at first, which is quite incomprehensible considering her position and past performance.But Guilliman knew in what capacity she was asking this question, so he wasn't surprised, and even knew it would be like this early on.

"Yes, his letter is unbelievable for his age." Guilliman smiled and shook his head. "When I was two years old, I was still busy looking for science stories in newspapers."

Youton pursed his lips, and after a while, she sighed.

"The universe has been cruel to us," the woman said in a tone of implicit sadness. "A two-year-old is forced to learn politics."

"This is just the beginning."

Guilliman said calmly—his tone was so calm that it was almost cruel.

"He also has to learn to accept every bit of nastiness behind politics, and his intellect will help him learn that quickly. He's going to be miserable, obviously, but he has to accept it because we were born to do it."

"so?"

"Sacrifice," said Guilliman. "Believe me, ma'am, I don't want to be trapped in this chair. No one wants to. But I have to do it. At a certain moment, ability and responsibility are linked. Even Russ has to restrain his wolf pack when it's not fighting, so that they don't make trouble, let alone me and my young brother who I haven't met."

"It's young." Youton corrected. "Instead of being young."

Guilliman sighed and did not continue on this topic. "I intend to carry out a ten-year assistance to Nostramo, from materials to personnel, in all aspects-frankly speaking, ma'am, my intention is that I will give them whatever they want."

Euton frowned.

"What about the gold deal?" she asked curtly.

"We'll pay the money. It doesn't matter if they want us to pay with supplies, either way."

Guilliman saw that his housekeeper's brow began to wrinkle more and more.

"What does that mean?" she asked puzzled. "Did something happen to you that I don't understand, Robert? I know you did it with good intentions, but would your brother really take it? I haven't seen them much, or many, but they're proud."

"I'm proud too."

"But that's not why you did this?" the housekeeper asked doubtfully. "By doing this, you are almost politically imprinting Macragge on your brother's home planet, Robert. Is this really good?"

There was still a word she didn't say, but Guilliman could hear it and see it in her eyes.

Is this allowed?

Of course it's not good, ma'am.But it's already allowed.

Guilliman fell into a brief moment of thought.He didn't speak, the lines of his cheeks became tense, and his blue eyes were silent, like the ocean in the evening.He spoke again after a long time for the Primarch.

"So I need a license, a formal license," he said.

Euton began to wait for his next sentence.

"So I made an appointment with the instructor of the Eighth Legion, Khalil Rohars, in the afternoon. I want to ask him to come and talk to me about this matter—if all goes well, the Eighth Legion will set off after their company commander recovers from his injury and return to Nostramo, bringing my greetings, wishes and sincerity."

Youton sat up straight and quickly entered the state.Her cane rested flat on her knees, vibrating quietly and gently."Shall I be there?" she asked.

"Of course." Guilliman nodded with a smile. "Ma'am, where else do you think you can go?"

"It's work time now," said Ms. Euton gravely. "So stop talking to me like that, what time do you have an appointment?"

"In 33 minutes."

"I'm going to change clothes." She stood up quickly.

Robert Guilliman shook his head dumbfounded, and hurriedly asked a question before she opened the door: "Is he making you so nervous, ma'am?"

"You'd better get nervous too!" said his lady.

I've been nervous since last night, but not about this meeting.Guilliman thought.Then watched her leave.
-
Generally speaking, a person's emotions are easy to observe.

The easiest way is to observe the other person's expression. People who have some experience in this will keep staring at the eyes.If you are a more experienced person, you will choose to combine body language to analyze together.

But when Khalil Rohars sat in the primarch-sized chair opposite the marble table, Tarasa Eudon found that she could no longer see any expression on the giant's face.

The emotional reactions he had revealed during the conversation that day seemed to be hallucinations, and now, this person sitting here, opposite her master, was a solid ice that could not be penetrated.

Is this normal?Euton questioned himself.She looked at her master again, and found that Robert Guilliman had also turned into a solid piece of ice.

"Good day," said Robert Guilliman. "Or good afternoon, I'm a little uncertain about the time now, Instructor Khalil—in short, I hope you are all well."

The visitor smiled.

"You too." He replied softly.

"Is everything all right with VanCleef?" Guilliman asked again.

"He's recovering soon, sorry, none of us thought his armor would make such a horrible misbehavior."

The visitor raised his hand and made a gesture with a distressed expression.

"Exploding cable duct, error in several components. Sorry for the inconvenience to Macragge these days."

"It's just providing a little help within my ability, there is no such thing as inconvenience, and you don't have to feel sorry, Instructor Khalil." Robert Guilliman said seriously but softly. "Macragge never treats our friends badly."

The visitor smiled and nodded, with gratitude on his face.

Perfect thanks.

Guilliman also smiled slightly. He lowered his head, picked up a data pad from the table and handed it over: "Please look at this, Instructor Khalil."

The visitor reaches for it and asks, "What is this?"

"A covenant," Guilliman replied, his manner impeccable, his pronunciation of syllables dubiously perfect, no longer his usual habit of speaking.

Youton, who was sitting at the side of the long table, frowned.

"Covenant?" The visitor asked while watching. "what type is it?"

"About Macragge's alliance with Nostramo," Guilliman said succinctly. "Nostramo for Adamantite, Macragge for anything else you need."

It was even more wrong.Euton thought.He didn't even say what was needed - could Robert Guilliman really be this rough?
She looked at her child, staring, and realized he was forcing himself not to turn his head to answer her unspoken question.

That gesture of refusal was so obvious to Tarasa Euton that it could even be explained as a bit confusing.

The next second, Guilliman heard his housekeeper sigh.

"Enough, enough," she said. "By logic I shouldn't have interrupted a conversation like this, but your acting is a bit too clumsy—you've discussed it early on, haven't you?"

"No," Guilliman said.

He still didn't look at Euton.

"Yes, ma'am." The visitor—or rather, Khalil Rohars laughed, and the ice melted.

The evidence was conclusive. Tarasa Utton looked at her son. The latter was silent for a moment, coughed, turned his head, and said sincerely: "Sometimes, it is necessary to conceal some truths, ma'am."

"I taught you this." His lady said blankly. "When you were 21, you didn't want to tell the public the truth about the floods because officials cut corners on building materials to pocket their own pockets, but you didn't know whether to lie. You asked me, and I told you that."

"...I apologize," said Robert Guilliman honestly.

"I don't want your apology, my lord, I want an explanation," said the housekeeper. "If you don't plan to let me participate in this meeting, you can make it clear from the beginning instead of colluding with our guest and persuading him to let him act with you for me, an old lady."

She said, even laughing: "It's a rare thing, even enough for me to brag to my old buddies when I retire."

"You are only 60 years old." Guilliman replied in a calm tone. "No one will say that you are old, and you have life extension surgery."

"I've lived more than half of my life, even if I want to use that thing, I won't let it change my appearance!" Euton said sharply.

"I doubt I'll ever find a doctor willing to operate on you," Guilliman muttered, looking away. "You'd probably hunt them down the corridors with forceps."

Khalil said nothing, smiling as he watched the mother and child interact.The reason why he doesn't speak is very simple and normal - how can an outsider intervene in this obvious mother-child conversation?

It's interesting, though, that the woman has been watching her adopted son's reactions between conversations.

I'm not important, just look at him more.Khalil thought.This meeting is technically just your son doing it to reassure you, he wants you to see him 'back to normal' otherwise why is he going to all this trouble?

"I'm not old enough to lose my mind and hunt down the doctor!"

"Who knows if it will?"

"Robert Guilliman!"

".Sorry." Guilliman covered his face. "I apologize, ma'am. This meeting was only held because I wanted to reassure you."

"I was relieved more than 40 minutes ago." Euton said angrily. "Can't I still tell the difference between your preoccupied look and your relieved look?"

She stood up angrily, took her cane and left without hesitation or even saying a word, directly leaving the office to Khalil and Robert Guilliman.

The latter met the gaze of the former and sighed long.

"...I can't deal with her." Guilliman said with a wry smile. "There has been no way, she can always find my loopholes."

"Knowledge is better than mother."

"Is this also the ancient language of Terra?"

"Tara has many old sayings, Robert." Khalil smiled. "Like doing bad things with good intentions."

".I remember." Guilliman said with a sigh. "So, let's talk business?"

"of course can."

Khalil nodded, pushed the data pad back, and said, "But I'm actually surprised that you would want me to go with you to participate in the exploration of the Ultimate Starfield."

　There is also a 2k chapter, but I feel that only 2k is too little, I will work harder to see if I can write a 3k chapter
　　By the way, want to guess what happens next?

　　
　
(End of this chapter)