When the reinforcements of the Dark Angels arrived, or in other words, when the news of the [Manipulator]'s death was known to every Randan warrior through the sudden collapse of the spiritual connection, the battle was completely over.

The last Ran Dan army did not choose to surrender. Everyone knew that in a war like this, there was no option to surrender. The remaining Ran Dan warships were forced back to the edge of the galaxy by the imperial army, and were undergoing constant explosions and confrontations. gradually disappear.

The elites of the Dark Angels are still jumping on the last alien ship one after another, but the purpose of the battle has changed from a bloody fight to capturing these valuable alien creations as much as possible. Ran Dan's remaining battleships, arsenal and even The injured warriors were completely [disarmed] and dragged away. What awaits them will not be a bright future: just like they did to the defeated human army before.

This is not an easy victory.

It is true that more than a hundred battleships of the Randan Empire and more small battleships are now burning between the light and darkness of the Sabis galaxy. The constantly disintegrating and collapsing battle moon symbolizes an army containing hundreds of thousands of Randan. Dan's elite alien main force was destroyed here. Even for a superpower like the Ran Dan Empire that could compete for hegemony in the galaxy, this could be regarded as a crippling failure.

From a human perspective, this is like an entire Legion of Astartes being wiped out in the same galaxy, from the Primarch to the lowest-ranking Legion servants. No one was spared. Such a battle is enough to break the balance among the stars.

There is no doubt that this is a great victory.

But it's also stained with blood.

More than thirty battleships belonging to the Human Empire and twice as many cruisers have been turned into wreckage in the Sabis galaxy. Under the illumination of stars and flames, there are also countless corpses and severed arms of the Dark Angels. Perhaps There were three thousand people, maybe more. They either died in brutal close combat, or they were shattered into dust in the void along with their gang-hopping vehicles by the flying artillery fire.

The most tragic losses were those hundreds of Terran veterans who served as bait and resistance on Sabis 4, and then served as vanguards to directly attack the Battle Moon. When Jonson and his five hundred people turned around and killed them, After passing through the last Randan garrison and reuniting with these scarred warriors, the Primarch briefly counted the number of people: there were only more than a hundred people left.

However, several of Hector's battle brothers are still alive: the ancient warrior Chiron lived up to his identity, he seemed to be the most calm one, Ajax had a shocking scar on his chest, and Salieri The most miserable one was that his left hand was obviously blown off in a confrontation. After a simple bandage, it was still dripping with blood.

Hector whispered a tribute to his genetic mother and returned to his companions, but before that, he did not forget to remind his mother.

"Your Excellency Luther is the person in charge of Geyemara Fortress. His work station is not too close to the Sabis system. Normally, even if he immediately gathers troops and comes as soon as he gets the news, his fleet will not be able to do so." He probably won’t be able to keep up with this battle.”

[Perhaps this is the instability of subspace. 】

Morgan responded in an equally low voice, and of course she knew why, because the laughter in her head was loud again - although they never went away.

But she also knew, by the simplest sound, that she was about to witness a good show.

Morgan wasn't worried that he wouldn't get the best seat to watch the show: the Dark Angel might let Hecht and others move around as they pleased, so just go over and take the necessary small steps.

But she can't. After all, she is an [Alaph] who has proven her strength. No one dares to let her wander around. When she was in the Thousand Sons Legion, her psychic abilities may have been mediocre, but here is the first place. Legion, every corridor here is packed with eight hundred minds.

Morgan watched Hector join her teammates. Then, she turned her head and felt only a few gazes containing psychic power.

They have been staring at her for some time. Some are following the five hundred people beside Zhuang Sen, while others are new ones who have come with orders and secret words.

ah……

A bunch of cute little guys.

——————

Sweat dripped down Luther's cheeks along his somewhat messy hair.

"You'd better realize what you're doing, Controller Luthor, because it's hard for me to put into words the ridiculousness and absurdity of this behavior."

Before setting off, Astralis's unabashed voice still echoed in his ears.

And his eyes, like the eyes of an old man looking at a naughty child.

"Director Luther, the [Indomitable Truth] just sent us a message, informing us that the Primarch is about to board the ship... There is an additional encrypted message at the end of the letter, which you need to open in person."

The voices of the mortal crew echoed in his ears. Luther stretched out his sweaty hands and accepted the message almost numbly.

There were only three words on the communication board.

[Go to the deck. 】

Luther looked at it again and again.

Finally, he took a deep breath and explained the rest of the work.

Then, like a martyr heading to the execution ground, he adjusted his armor and helmet, slowly walked out of the command room, and disappeared into the corridor.

Some mortal crew members watched him go away, while several Dark Angel veterans who were also stationed here just glanced at the nominal commander casually and no longer cared about anything about this mortal.

Luther walked in the corridor, and the array of lights continued to shine on his helmet, making his pupils and sweat droplets change colors in the interlacing of light and dark.

He walked in the light, but looked dim.

Sweat drops, more and more sweat drops gathered on his forehead and the back of his neck. He knew that this was not a failure of the temperature regulation system, but some other mistakes, some mistakes he had made himself.

"What do you think you're doing, Controller Luther?"

"You are disobeying orders, [Lion]'s orders. This is what he hates the most, because this is the characteristic of every Dark Angel. This is the connection between us. You will not understand."

"Do you really think you know him? Know a - Primarch?"

Astralis's voice echoed in his ears again. He still remembered that moment, when he heard about Jonson's plan and fierce battle in the Sabis system, he ordered the battleships almost without hesitation. Set sail for reinforcements.

He still remembers the way those dark angels looked at him when he gave the order...

He even doubted himself.

When he used his identity as the commander of the fortress to forcefully order the Dark Angels to take action, was what he was thinking about was anxiety about Zhuang Sen's situation, or...

Is he too eager for the battlefield?

He wanted to return to the battlefield, even if he just watched it from a distance and smelled the stench of smoke and blood mixed together.

Luther didn't dare to continue thinking about it. He knew the answer instinctively.

At this time, he also walked out of the passage and came to the deck of the battleship. The dark light emitted from the void hit him, making him dazzling for a moment.

Hundreds of Dark Angels have already gathered on the deck, all of them "reinforcements" forced by Luther through the privilege at hand, and the grantor of this privilege is precisely the Primarch himself.

The Dark Angels were divided into two teams, looking ahead, indifferent to Luther's appearance. There was a gap of about ten meters between them, enough for Luther to stand in the middle, and both sides were far away.

Like the auditorium of a trial court.

As Luther stood there, he couldn't help but think bitterly.

——————

[Lion] himself rushed down from the first Storm Bird, and after that, several more Storm Birds staggered down. Some injured veterans of the Dark Angels lined up from above, and there was also a silver streak mixed in. figure.

Morgan was like a broken shadow, hiding in the jungle of Dark Angel veterans. She even leisurely chose a good location, right next to the Dark Angel think tank who was monitoring her.

The top deck of the Imperial battleship is naturally an extremely wide place. Even if there are hundreds of Dark Angels standing there, it will not be crowded. And Luther himself is respected by everyone. Therefore, when the [Lion] strode all the way to When in front of him, it looked particularly eye-catching.

"Leon..."

Looking at the overly tall Primarch, looking at the appearance and blond hair that he was all too familiar with, Luther couldn't help but speak, calling the name of his former adopted son.

Leon Jonson, this was the name Luther personally gave him after he dissuaded his colleague Sword and decided to adopt this strange wild child.

Leon, [Lion].

Jonson, [Son of the Forest].

He murmured the name and watched the child grow stronger and grow too quickly. In the blink of an eye, he was far behind him: in fact, decades had passed, but Luther always felt that It was too fast, and I always felt that the person in front of me was still the child, the child who had just put on the armor and helmet and fought alongside him.

When he came to his senses, he looked at his former adopted son again, only to find that except for his appearance and this illusory name, the person in front of him was far from the one he imagined.

He could no longer even fight with this man: it had become a dereliction of duty, a sin.

Luther said nothing.

And Johnson didn't care.

The Primarch lowered his head, his shadow covering Luther's body like a black night.

【What are you doing here! 】

"I……"

[I have assigned you a position, tasks and goals. None of them require you to defy my will, abuse my authority at will, and then appear here with an army! 】

The Primarch's voice echoed across the decks, clearly in the ears of every Dark Angel.

Jonson's face was always like a frost-covered bloodthirsty sword. His brows were furrowed and his eyes were fixed on the figure in front of him: Luther, his best friend, and his left hand.

The Primarch was silent for a while. He just continued to cast those terrifying, tormenting gazes on Luther like torture. He did not speak anymore, but everyone felt that the air on the deck was gradually getting colder. It became cold and scary.

The [Male Lion] covered himself from head to toe in black armor, which was engraved with some extremely simple patterns of red gold and silver, and there were no other decorations.

He was so tall, and when he stared at Luther wholeheartedly, his emerald green pupils were like the vicious full moon hidden in the clouds on the mountains, emitting a chilling light.

Luther lowered his head, lowered his head, lowered his head...

His hands were folded together unconsciously, and they were covered with crackling drops of sweat.

Finally, when Luther began to doubt whether he could really resist this silent pressure, [The Lion] spoke again.

[My mission has always been made clear, Luther. Even the dullest soldier can understand it, and I don't think you can't. 】

[I regard you as my left hand, Luther, a trustworthy part of me. I have handed over some of my responsibilities and powers to you, and I don’t want you to violate them or abuse them, and I don’t want to see you either. Every order you gave without my knowledge was utter folly. 】

Morgan blinked. She could hear some contempt for mortals coming from the heart of the Dark Angel next to her.

Zhuang Sen straightened up, like a goddess of justice raising her sword high.

[Go back to your logistics position immediately. That is the responsibility I assigned you, and it is your task. Do not abuse my authorization at will, and do not come here again. They do not belong to you and I will not allow it. 】

Luther bent down, and his voice sounded extraordinarily calm. He forced the words out of his trembling lips.

"Your will, my lord."

The primarch nodded.

[Now, your battleships and soldiers will be under my direct command. Because of the unnecessary chaos caused by all this, I will withdraw my authorization. I will appoint another person for the fleet and fortress of Geyimala. You need Focus all your energy on my orders and your mission, Luther. This is what I need you to do, instead of causing trouble for me here. 】

"...as ordered..."

The obedient answer made [Lion's] face look better for a moment, but when he looked around at all the Dark Angels present, the corners of his mouth curled up in anger again.

[Now, disband! 】

[Go back to your posts. 】

[There is nothing to celebrate here. 】

The array of the First Legion disintegrated in silence. Hundreds of warriors passed by Luther and walked into the corridor of the battleship. Some of them, or most of them, after the [Lion] left , then cast a unified gaze on Luther.

Luther couldn't tell what it was.

He didn't want to tell the difference either.

He just lowered his head and said nothing, his somewhat heavy body trembling, causing the sword at his waist to collide slightly in the sword box.

——————

When Luther woke up again, he was already leaning on a chair, watching the Dark Angel's small battleships cleaning the battlefield in the distance.

Jonson's few words deprived him of all connection with the war, and now, except for the resting hall of the battleship, where mortal crew members could rest, he had nowhere to go.

Luther lowered his head, and after a long time, he sighed slowly.

The hall had a feeling of emptiness, and that was a given.

Because now, even the lowest-level mortal crew members are busy. They all have their own positions and missions. They are part of this war and can take the honors brought by victory as a matter of course.

Luther thought a little lonely.

At this moment, the door opened, and he caught a silver figure out of the corner of his eye, and he quickly recognized who it was.

"Ms. Morgan."

Luther stood up, smiled, nodded, and shook hands, and Morgan sat down opposite Luther.

She put on the formal clothes again, holding a book and a bottle of drink in her hands, while the staff was controlled by psychic energy and floated casually to the side.

Luther looked at this outfit and smiled.

"rest?"

[It’s human nature, isn’t it? 】

"You can see the starry sky better in the corridor. There is no need to come to such a remote corner."

[It doesn’t belong to me, it belongs to those soldiers. 】

She sat down, crossed her legs, spread the books on her thighs, leaned her staff on the side, and with a click of her finger, two wine glasses floated over and were slowly filled.

"You are also a warrior, the hero of this battle."

Luther's voice was serious and hoarse.

This sentence seemed to make Morgan stunned for a moment. She raised her head, which was about to read, and was silent for a while, showing a helpless smile.

[It used to be, but not anymore. 】

[When I fought side by side with them, everything was nothing, but when the battle was over, I looked around and found that there was no place for me. 】

Luther's expression was somewhat frozen.

He shook his head.

"If you are here to comfort me, Ms. Morgan, then I accept your kindness, but it is not necessary."

Morgan laughed.

[I actually didn’t expect you to be here, Lord Luther, but now that I think about it, it’s expected. 】

[The reason why I came here is also very simple. Ahriman has not returned yet, and I have nowhere to go on this ship. 】

The figure of the Thousand Sons warrior flashed through Luther's mind, and he nodded, accepting this statement.

Morgan just played with his wine glass casually, and then brought the other one in front of Luther.

She muttered to herself, as if it was an answer, as if it were a complaint, and as if it was just a meaningless vent.

[Yes, I have fought, and I am a comrade with them. 】

[But they are warriors, I am not. 】

[They are Astartes, and neither am I. 】

[They are the descendants of the Primarch, a natural part of the war, the true masters and indispensable part of this battleship. 】

[And I am not either. 】

[So, I am still alone. 】

[There really is nowhere to go except here. 】

Luther was silent for a moment, and then he laughed.

It was a hoarse, bitter, sad laugh.

Then, he took the drink from Morgan and drank heavily.

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