"Welcome, my brother."

"Long time no see."

St. Giles took the lead with a gentle smile, and Killiman, who was opposite him, immediately burst into a warm smile, and the two exchanged a few words of nonsense.

Normally, the angel didn't like that, but he was equally aware that these everyday greetings would give Killiman a sense of stability and comfort.

Perhaps the angel's light was too bright, Magnus paused his ramblings and politely waited for the angel and Killiman, the Scarlet King was in a good mood right now, so he patiently focused his attention on the angel, who was still as bright as he remembered.

Angels also have psionic talents, and in front of other legions, especially those who can see the Aether, the Thousand Sons will not release their guardian spirits.

Perhaps Killiman did it on purpose, Magnus thought, and politicians' tongues are always the most deceptive.

"This is our brother, Motarian."

The angel winked meaningfully at the two of them, and he turned to the side, only then did the two of them notice the deathly aura of Mortarian beside St. Giles' shining wings.

Killiman froze imperceptibly, and immediately enthusiastically introduced himself to Motarian.

Magnus began to scrutinize Motarian, but Mortarian got used to it, so he ignored the tall, red-skinned giant.

"I'm the Commander of the Thirteenth Legion Ultramarine, Robert Killiman, and it's a pleasure to meet you, my brother, it's always a pleasure to get acquainted."

Motarian replied dryly to Killiman,

"Fourteenth Legion, Captain of the Death Guard."

Killyman smiled and held out his hand, hoping to shake Motarian's hand, the angel smiled at Motarion, and Dorn looked at them with arms crossed, but did not sneer.

"The return of another brother, it's a shame that we only meet now, but the good news is that we now have enough time to get to know each other."

Motarian realizes that they really want Motarian to enter this circle that Motarian feels inexplicable.

The circle called "Family Affection" is draped in a gorgeous garment.

He remembered the scorching affection that Horus had given him, the kindness that had no origin, the enthusiasm that had come suddenly.

He also remembered. At that time, he realized the truth, that gold would eventually decay, and that the throne was destined to be mottled.

Good things always pass.

Motarian was silent again, and what he didn't notice was that as he was subconsciously silent and looked away, Killiman threw an inquiring glance at the angel.

The angel shook his head slightly.

Killiman was silent, and Magnus sighed loudly.

From Motarian's point of view, there was an incongruous sense of grace to everything at the banquet, and the excessive accumulation that filled the place made him unhappy.

He didn't like the feeling of deliberately asserting his power and status with gold, silver, and jewelry.

But in the eyes of the other primitives, Mortarian was the one who was most worried.

He's too unique, too sick, too weird.

Motarian, their brother, was too thin, too thin, really too thin, showing a sickly thinness, revealing almost no fat in the few places where he was not covered by clothing, and the skin was corroded by strong acids.

And he was still very tall, and among the people present, only Magnus was taller than Motarian, but Magnus was at least three times as heavy as Motarian, and Mortarian was like a tall, thin rickets deadwood.

What made the primitives even more chilling was that Mortarian was wearing a breathing mask, why would he do that?

The sound of dying breathing of a patient with severe tuberculosis came from behind the pale and faded mask.

Lacking in armor, Motarian took on a frightening uneasiness after losing the protection of his armor and poisonous mist.

The angel was concerned if Motarian was suffering from some kind of illness or if his brother was cursed, but from previous contacts, the angel had not noticed anything else.

Dorn thinks the brother is too unique and that he needs to adapt to the rhythm of the empire, rather than completely adapting to the environment.

Killiman Robert pondered how to communicate with the brother, and it was clear that Motarian needed to speak, and they needed more information from the brother to better help him, or to make him less uncomfortable.

And Magnus was reading.

He was reading Motarian as the Crimson King's attention shifted from the angel to Motarian once more.

Magnus was shocked by the image of Motarian, but at the same time, such a different brother piqued his curiosity.

When experience and insight accumulate to a certain extent, you can cross your expectations to see the essence of things.

Motarian lives in a highly toxic atmosphere, food is scarce - otherwise he could have grown taller, and he lives in a human environment where humans have not built a decent culture.

There are psionic scars on his body. More than one place. Interesting.

Is Motarian wrestling with some kind of psionic being? Are there a lot of psionic species on his planet?

Did he rely entirely on physical means to attack those psionics? Or will he have some psionic means?

Magnus leaned towards the latter, as Mortarian exhibited a style that resembled that of psionics in ignorant regions, who stubbornly interpreted psionics and subspaces in terms of peculiar fragmented cultures.

Mortarian has a strong aura of death, which is indeed a fairly common blind belief caused by psionic powers.

Magnus didn't rush to use psionic powers to find out, and if the other party was a psionic person, there was a more or less offensive touch mixed in with it.

He was just curious, and began to get a little anxious about the situation where Killiman and the angels were trying to communicate with Motarion.

The words of the two primordials were so perfect, like a symphony with its own rhythm, that Magnus wondered why Killyman could work so perfectly with the angels, and he couldn't intervene in their conversation rashly.

Dorne, on the other hand, would insert his own opinion in the short pauses of his words.

Magnus tried to get himself into their conversation, and he was certainly welcome, but every time he could lead the conversation into the realm he wished to know, the angel diverted from him.

Killiman and Angel didn't ask Motarian directly, they were just talking to each other, but every now and then they would throw out a small question, and the two would discuss it with each other, and then ask the others in moderation.

A common inducing conversation, but apparently unaware of it by the remaining three except Angel and Killiman.

"People in Makulag were sometimes surprised by my presence, but as I appeared on the podium more and more often, they quickly got used to me and really started thinking about my proposal – not me."

The angel smiled and beckoned nonchalantly, and the wine glass was brought up, and the scarlet wine crystal was shining,

"My people fear me and adore me, and maybe they haven't thought about the complicated things, but I can guide them to think and to take the right path."

The angel shook his glass and watched the wine shine through the candlelight.

But his attention was still behind him, and for some reason, the angel realized that Magnus hadn't noticed it yet, and the Scarlet Monarch's curiosity was clearly entangled by Motarian.

If it weren't for the angel's keen intuition, he would have subconsciously ignored that place.

What's that, exactly?

Although the projection in the subspace is blasphemous to the angel, in reality, it is indeed just an ordinary space marine, even if it is large, but it is indeed a space marine.

It has not made any threatening moves so far.

It seemed that only angels had discovered it, and St. Giles' instincts told him that it might not be dangerous for them.

So he kept watching and didn't say anything.

Together with Killiman, he continued to lure Motarian.

"With just a little encouragement and demonstration, they can do their best."

Motarian let out a sound of praise,

"Courage is always there, you just need to light that initial lead, and the flame of resistance will burn, and they will be better than you imagined."

"Rebellion? Is there tyranny where you are? ”

Killyman asked,

"More than tyranny!"

Motarion's voice suddenly rose up, "Evil psionic aliens oppress humanity, and humanity is nothing more than a symbol of wealth to measure their rule, resisting, overthrowing these dregs who are not enough to die. ”

"You're leading the people—"

"Your enemy is a psionic alien?"

Magnus intervened directly and stopped Killiman's inquiry, and Killiman glanced at Magnus with a little confusion, but Magnus, who had just been teaching him psionic knowledge, ignored him.

More curious than a Killiman who had no psionic flashes, Magnus was more curious about the existence of a possible brother.

Even Mortarian was a little puzzled by Magnus's sudden insertion, and swallowed back the words of rebuke to the tyrant, and said stiffly,

"Yes, a mob playing with psionic sorcery."

Magnus frowned, witchcraft ——? Although there are psionics who call themselves so.

"So how do you deal with them? The power of psionic energy is ingenious and complex, and it is not something to be taken lightly. ”

St. Giles was keenly aware that Motarian's gaze seemed to glance behind him, it was there.

"Scythes, guns, promises of death."

Motarian slowly spat out his words, but the more he spoke, the more disappointed Magnus became,

"And. Something else. ”

Motarian was vague, yes, yes, Magnus knew, it was the psyker, and his brother did not dare to speak freely because of the existence of the truth of the empire.

"My brother, Motarian, don't worry, I'm the most proficient psionic of my brothers, you can just say it."

The words landed, and Magnus suddenly realized that the atmosphere on Motarian was not right.

Hidden under the shadow of the hood, those amber eyes were like flowing lava, with a burning heat, staring at Magnus.

"You're a psyker?"

Ahriman was the first to discover that existence.

He tried to warn Magnus, but he wasn't sure if using psionic communication at this point would get him in trouble.

He could only pray that his father, Magnus, would find out, but Magnus's attention was drawn first to Killiman and then to Motarian.

So Ahriman could only follow Magnus in silence, he could feel the sound of blood thumping in his veins, ready to burst out at any moment.

As if aware of something, the angel St. Giles looked at him, and those eyes told him to calm down.

There were so many Ultramarines that they occupied the last few full tables.

So when he finally came, he was placed at the death guard's table without a place.

Dark, buzzing, disgusting, blasphemous, sinful, disgusting, unacceptable.

Ahriman felt hopeless.

It's more today...... Let me see...... 2k！

Anyway, if you have friends who know about various legions and prototypes, welcome to discuss with me, it is too difficult to collect twenty legions by one person, and the character design extracted from a certain original book is inevitably one-sided, if you have the original body you are familiar with and the corresponding warriors, welcome to discuss with me. (°з°)-

(End of chapter)