40k: Midnight Blade.

Chapter 594 112. Interlude: The Old Folks (Part )

Roboute Guilliman rose from behind his desk.

"No, that will not be necessary," he told his First Captain, Sol Invictus the Unconquered Sun, firmly.

"Let them see. What do we have to hide? Are we going to tell these veterans that they have no right to know what happened to their Primarch, Legion and brothers?"

"But, Primarch, I am worried."

"What are you worried about?" Guilliman looked at his son, who was about to speak but hesitated. "Are you worried that they will feel that this is a betrayal of the Legion's culture?"

"More than that." Lieyang whispered. "After all, you are the main author of the Holy Scripture."

"so?"

"."

Guilliman took a deep breath and shook his head in anger and amusement: "Yes, I am the main author, but its implementation is agreed by all the Primarchs. Moreover, the culture of the Legion has also been carefully maintained."

"I wrote this book in the hope that the sub-groups that were separated could quickly form combat effectiveness, so every case I wrote into the book was carefully selected."

"As long as you have read the Holy Scriptures in their entirety, you will not be at a loss when faced with an emergency. They cannot fail to see this, my captain. You are worrying too much."

really?
Sol Invictus hesitated again and walked his Primarch out of the office.

Not long ago, a huge debate took place here, with all the captains participating. They came here to convince Robouti Guilliman, but failed, and were defeated one by one by the Primarch.

Rational analysis, passionate eloquence, presentation of facts, and reasoning. Even if the identity of the Primarch is put aside, the captains cannot defeat Robert Guilliman in this argument.

However, as soon as one wave of controversy subsided, another wave of controversy arose. The debate had just ended when the company commander received news that the instructor had led the veterans into the data room of Macragge's Glory.

The person in charge, a lady who had been an administrator for forty-four years, was very uneasy about this. Invictus, who had been planning to stretch his muscles on the training ground, immediately rushed to the Primarch's office upon receiving her message and told her the whole matter in detail.

But Robert Guilliman didn't seem to care much about it.

"Actually, Lieyang." Guilliman called out the nickname of the Captain thoughtfully. "My original intention of setting up that data room was just to warn myself. It was very necessary."

"I would also feel uneasy about the implementation of the Codex. The Legion may be bloated, but is the structure of the Chapter too small compared to the wars they are facing? Moreover, if these separated Chapters no longer have any connection with the parent Chapter."

He suddenly stopped talking and did not continue the topic. The captain's heart trembled, and he had already guessed what Guilliman had not said.

For a moment, the only sounds on the road that led directly from Robert Guilliman's office to the data room were the footsteps of the two of them.

Outside the heavy portholes, the stars twinkled, and the soft light from the ceiling cast their shadows behind them, making everything look ordinary.

But it was just another walk with the company commander by his side, and the guards who were so often seen on duty had even become accustomed to it. It was not until they were outside the information room that the difference in this walk slowly became apparent.

How much space could a thousand Astartes occupy?

More serious respondents would ask for more information, such as whether they were fully armed, whether there were veterans wearing Terminators, and how many company flags they carried.
Those who cared less would immediately give vague answers, such as an assembly area and a few trenches.

And Sol Invictus could give a direct and definite answer: a thousand Astartes could completely fill the wide corridors of Macragge's Glory.

From them to the end, every corner was filled with waiting Astartes, and the corridor that could once have allowed a Land Raider to pass through unimpeded was now blocked.
The captain almost gasped, but his primarch chuckled softly, then walked forward, nodded to the veterans who noticed him, and shook hands with those who were close to him one by one, greeting them intimately, as if he had known these people for a long time.

The Unconquered Sun stood silently behind, watching Robert Guilliman fully display his diplomatic - or social - talents, like a silent statue.

However, even if it was a real statue, people would still salute it. The company commander inevitably made eye contact with those soldiers. It was not hostile, but it was not friendly either.

To him, the soldiers' gazes were full of scrutiny, as if they were observing whether a new recruit was qualified. His keenness made it difficult for him not to notice this, and he was annoyed.

Moreover, he was quickly and deliberately brought into the conversation.

"It's good to see you again, sir." An Iron Warrior made the Sky Eagle Salute in front of his chest, and spoke respectfully. "And this sir, is he your company commander?"

"Yes, he is my captain of the First Company, Narik." Roboute Guilliman said with a smile. "Sol Invictus, 321 years of service, experienced in many battles, my right-hand man."

Unconquered Sun felt relieved, and after hearing the Primarch's words of defense, he straightened his chest and accepted the man's gaze. This action contained a sense of injustice. He respected these veterans, but he did not believe that they had served longer than him.
Excluding the time spent in the stasis field, Invictus believed that few of them could have served longer than himself. Of course, whether the intensity of the war they experienced was the same was another matter, and he would not ignore the facts just to maintain his self-esteem.

"Three hundred and twenty-one years?" The Iron Warrior called Narik showed a slightly surprised expression. "How surprising! Hello, Captain Thor, I also know a captain named Thor, Thor Tarvitz, have you heard of his name?"

Invictus nodded solemnly.

"Of course I have heard of the name of Saul Tarvitz, Chapter Master of the Emperor's Children."

"He became the Chapter Master?" The Iron Warrior was slightly stunned.

"And he still is," the First Captain stressed. "He has been the Chapter Master since the Emperor's Children were split into Chapters."

"Have you seen him, then?"

"No."

"I have seen him before," the Iron Warrior said, then stepped forward and extended his right hand towards Invictus. "Narrick Dregul, the warsmith of the 114th Battalion of the Iron Warriors. Of course, there may no longer be a battalion now."

The Unconquered Blazing Sun also took a step forward, tightly grasped the forearm of the right hand, and nodded to its owner: "Thor Invictus, Captain of the First Company of the Ultramarines Chapter, it's a pleasure to meet you, Narrick the Blacksmith."

"It's the Warsmith." The Iron Warrior grinned. "Don't be vague. The blacksmith is here."

He retracted his arm, took a step back, and gave way to a man who was taller than him. The man was wearing a set of gorgeous armor, and the dragon head on his left shoulder was particularly conspicuous. Invictus didn't even recognize the model at first, which showed how gorgeous it was.

But it is not just gorgeous, the golden outlines and reliefs are just embellishments, and every detail is full of a sense of power.
"Adro Branull." The man introduced himself. "A member of the Fire Dragon Guard, I greet you, Your Excellency the First Captain. And, as the war smith says, I am a blacksmith--"

He smiled, blinked, and looked back at Robouti Guilliman.

"——I am good at making and repairing things, so, my lord, if you don't mind..." "I couldn't ask for more." Guilliman said sincerely. "Getting help from the Salamanders is something that all legions would like to have."

He deliberately used the word "Legion". Invictus noticed the subtle difference, but before he had time to think, he saw two people walking out of the open metal door of the data room.

One is fully armed and clad in his signature golden armor, while the other is unarmed, defenseless in a robe, and a mere mortal.

"How is it?" Guilliman walked over with a smile. "My data room, are you satisfied with it? It is not easy to collect information about the war groups in the empire here."

"You shouldn't ask me that question," the person being questioned replied. "I'm just a caregiver."

During the conversation, another person walked out of the door. The weathered and faded armor made Invictus frown. He didn't understand what the technical sergeants and mechanical priests who came to check were busy with.

How could an old warrior be so disrespectful in front of the Primarch?

Two seconds later, his worries disappeared again.

"Kefa!" Guilliman called out his name, surprise flashing across his face. "It's you!"

"Sir." The Death Guard called Kefa forced a smile. "I can tell you the same thing again, but I can't."

He stepped back from Guilliman's embrace and bowed deeply.

"What are you doing?" Lord Macragge asked with a frown.

"Thank you," the Death Guard said hoarsely. "Also, I apologize for my initial suspicion."

"Before I stepped into this archive, my shortsightedness prevented me from understanding why you took the lead in writing a book about splitting up the legion, but now I understand its necessity."

"The will of our Father has not been forgotten. It flows through every Son of Mortarion, and they carry it throughout the galaxy. I beg your pardon for my inability to remain calm when I see this."

Guilliman sighed, strode forward, and pulled him up.

"Don't do that." The Primarch said word by word. "You are insulting us all, Kefa. Why do you assume that the names of heroes will be forgotten by us?"

Invictus saw that the Death Guard's face was trembling.

"I—" he managed. "—I'm sorry, your Excellency."

"Don't be sorry for this, Kefa. There is nothing to be sorry about. Mortarion's name is remembered by all. His spirit is spread throughout the Empire. Every soldier who struggles in the trenches on the front lines will mention his name. The Lord of Death, the tough man, never surrenders. He is our role model, do you understand?"

"I, I understand."

"Very good." Guilliman nodded slightly, his voice suddenly rising. "And you are his son, I ask you to set the same example and be a role model, do you agree?"

Kefa Morag straightened his back suddenly, his steel boots clashed, and he saluted instinctively.

"Then I ask you--"

Guilliman turned and pulled Invictus towards him.

"——Accompanied by my captain, lead your brothers to the armory and foundry to receive weapons and undergo maintenance. Do you agree?"

"I agree, my Lord."

The Death Guard sighed slightly and looked sincerely into Guilliman's eyes.

He said softly, "You are still the same as you were ten thousand years ago, always giving orders that people cannot refuse."

Guilliman made no reply to this, but simply stepped aside to allow his First Captain to turn and lead the way. The Death Guard followed, each of them giving the Primarch a salute as they passed, a respect that could not be acted.

Khalil, who was watching all this silently, knew that the personal guard of Mortarion had probably worn a helmet in the data room, and used the eyepiece to share what he saw with all his brothers' helmets.
This is not a violation of the rules, at most it is just taking advantage of a loophole. It is very smart and saves a lot of trouble.

He couldn't help but chuckle, and then received another whispered question from the Custodian.

"grown ups?"

".La, what's wrong with you?"

"I don't know, I think I'm fine, I just want to ask you, do you have any questions?"

"What's my problem?" Khalil whispered back, his smile gone, only his frowning brows remaining. "I'm just smiling, does my smile mean I'm going to kill someone? Or solve some 'problem'?"

The Custodians straightened their backs and became statues without saying a word. However, Robouti Guilliman expressed his opinion.

"Khalil, with all due respect, if we use statistics, five out of every ten times you smile—"

"——Robert." Caryl looked at him with a smile. "Do you want to guess what this smile means?"

The Lord of Macragge shook his head and dragged Narik Dregul, who was still in the team, into the data room. Looking at his back, Khalil took a deep breath and then looked at the tribune.

"so."

"What, my lord?"

"Is he telling the truth? Every fifth time?"

"I can't say for sure." La replied lightly. "But I think it's not a sin to love to laugh, sir, it's just that your laugh is more scary."

Khalil silently propped up his elbows, placed his left hand on his chest, and covered the lower half of his face with his right hand, looking as if he was thinking.

(End of this chapter)