Sevita took a step back, and in the shadows of the cell, the archangel walked towards him with a blank face, blood stained from the corners of his mouth—

St. Giles turned straight and left without hesitation, the archangel looked ...... It's not in great shape, but he's still a fightable look.

Sevita froze in place, he stood there stunned for a second, then swooped out into the darkness of the cell.

St. Giles' footsteps paused slightly for a moment,

Take care of your ...... Warrior, corps commander. 】

The archangel spoke, leaving Sevita behind him, who was crouching beside Conrad Coz.

The candlelight of the corridor flickered on the archangel's bright red shoulder armor, and the original strode out of the dimly lit cell corridor, Baal's white light spilling through the doorway, stabbing the original body slightly squinting.

St. Giles did not look sideways, and the lion leaning against the wall was waiting for him by the door, with his arms crossed and his hood.

St. Giles didn't smile, he kept a cold face, and the smell of blood kept him from being angry.

[Got it set?] 】

Archangel asked.

Leon, hidden under the green hood, nodded, but the lion seemed to feel something, he hesitated for a moment, and a hand leaning against the wall rested casually on the saber at his waist,

【…… You're not in the right state, angel. 】

St. Giles' face was expressionless, like a sculpture, and the setting sun of Barr slowly set on his face with a magnificent light.

As the sun sets, night is approaching.

The angel's mouth moved slightly, but he didn't say anything after all,

Finally, the archangel leaves, he draws the spear behind his back, spreads his wings, and the news from the heir in the channel tells him that he needs to continue fighting.

[Leon, you're too sentimental. 】

The words fell lightly along with the sliding white feathers, and the lion stood up from the wall in astonishment, the unspoken words in his throat and unable to make a sound.

The lion let out a puzzled snort, and he frowned tightly as he stared at the figure that was hurrying away.

After a long time...... He will finally understand that the archangel has now stepped into that dark age of continuous war.

Best friend, self-...... At this moment, there is only the archangel who sings the praises of the world, St. Giles.

The sound of stumbling footsteps sounded, Leon hurriedly grasped the sword, and with the night appeared, it was the limping Conrad Coetzes who walked out with the help of Sevita.

The eyes of the Lord of the Night reflect the eternal night.

The Lion King let out a contemptuous taunt, and he drew his sword with a wide stabbing unabashed, aiming the tip of his sword at Conrad.

To his surprise, Conrad didn't pay much attention to his provocation, and after the madness of the night, his eyes were rarely clear.

【……】

Conrad stared at Leon Johnson, and a soft hoarse voice sounded, with the smell of blood,

【…… He killed Horus. 】

Leon was taken aback, "Conrad, you know what you're talking about?!] 】

Conrad finally stopped going crazy this time, and he hissed in disbelief,

【…… He...... He chose a more secure future – even if it came at the cost of blood. 】

The archangel knew it was true, the archangel thought it was fake, Conrad muttered to himself, it didn't matter, because the angel didn't hesitate to make his choice to minimize the possibility of the future.

But he chose one...... The most painful path for yourself.

A path that only the most powerful souls can embark on.

He pushed his best friend into the abyss, and he himself was promoted to the altar by the world, sealed by layers of faith.

Coetzes muttered that Motarian showed him a future that was free from fate, and St. Giles showed him a future that chose his fate.

Conrad gasped, he subconsciously shook his head, and fell into a state of confusion again,

【...... Atonement】

【…… It's crazy...... Sinners in Hell Need Work ......]

As he spoke, he limped, ignoring the lion, and was carefully carried away by Sevita.

Leon Johnson paused, he who was not a prophecy might never be able to understand the pain of the two prophecy primordials.

He watched with some dazed gaze as the two primordials disappeared into the sunset, the other into the night, and they seemed to have reached some kind of truce—some kind of temporary rest.

The lion whispered a word of Caliban, he raised his hand, and in the shadow of the building, a group of angels with winged helmets appeared,

[Go back.] 】

So he took his dark angels with him and disappeared into the darkness with him.

————————

[The weather is good today. 】

Angelon said with a smile, poking his head out of Killiman's office, the bright sun shining from the blue sky, the Lord of the Red Sand was in a good mood for the day, and he smiled and stared at the birds flying in the sky.

Or, most of the time, Angelon is in a good mood.

Even though the current situation is not very rosy, Killiman sighed lightly and put down the approved document in his hand.

The Torch has not yet been rekindled, and Otramane is engaged in wars of all sizes, and the Ultramarines are uniting with the Death Guardians to clean up the plagued planets.

With the lessons of the past, the Lord of Maculag has long been unable to relax in the slightest, and for a while, four new hospital planets have been established in the Otrama Star Domain, and at the same time, in order to prevent the agricultural planet from being attacked again, Killiman approved the construction of five backup agricultural planets.

Killiman made an improvised conscription to recruit those in the preparatory academy who could perform immediate surgery, and soon 10,000 new blood would enter the legion.

At the same time, he lowered the academy's pass rate by ten percentage points, and in the future, the Extreme Legion will be expanded again.

Robert Killiman, who is backed by the Five Hundred Kingdoms of Otlama, is not like other legions, and needs the Empire's resources to replenish - especially those from Mars.

As a result, Killiman can now expand his army as he pleases, without worrying about supplies or Terra's approvals.

For some political reason, Killiman tried to discuss the matter with Machado, to which Marcado replied that Killiman was a roll of the eye.

When Killiman returned, he immediately began to recruit soldiers.

With the expansion of the Extreme Legion and the relatively chaotic situation in the early stage, the scope of the five hundred kingdoms of Otrama began to expand further on the plates.

With the Pale Lord's guard, the Otrama Star Field is relatively stable.

The Death Guard's clearance of those plague planets also went smoothly, and although according to the Ultramarines, there were some casualties in the Death Guard, the Fourteenth Legion didn't complain much about it.

Killiman sighed lightly, and he took a sip of the steaming tea—a tribute from a nest planet they had just rescued,

Shrouded in the white mist, the Ultramarines and the Death Guards took on the mad cultists and psykers who seemed to be still wondering why they couldn't communicate with their gods.

Motarian commented on this,

[Whoever believes in God is stupid—(silenced.] 】

In the white mist, the weak evaluation of the Pale Lord sounded, and the accompanying Ultramarines looked at their side, the death guards with spare daggers to bring seven, and the Pale Lord who could appear at any time and disappear into the mist......

tacitly maintained a high level of political literacy and maintained his own views on this matter.

Killiman sighed again, new battlefields, new enemies, and the Ultramarines will quickly adapt to this.

Angelon's voice rang out,

[You've been depressed lately, Killiman? 】

Killeman frowned, and he took another sip of tea,

[I'm still worried that what happened last time,]

Angron raised an eyebrow, he knew that Killiman was referring to the illusion,

[You're a little too nervous,]

Anglon said with a smile,

[Two of the top five psionics in this empire are with us, and if we can't handle all of this, I can't imagine how bad other battlefields will be.] 】

Killeman sighed,

[May our brothers be well, and the glory of mankind will live forever.] 】

Anglon's expression suddenly became serious,

"The glory of mankind endures," he said, "and we should believe in our brothers, who are the same as us, the primordial beings. 】

Angelon relaxed,

[Be optimistic, Killiman.] 】

The Lord of the Red Sands said, "You have become a pessimist during this time - no one will blame you, and Motarian and I are relieved to hand over our backs to you. 】

There is only one person in this galaxy who can approve them within the time limit and ensure that they can run smoothly.

This is the sea of documents that Angron can't even think of, Killiman spent a day without sleeping, and in a trance, Angron seemed to see Hades who was roaring and approving documents in the maelstrom.

It's just that Hades shows sadness and anger, and Killeman is leisurely self-confidence.

They can't leave Killiman, and Angron is acutely aware of this, otherwise, they will have to run the country on slow, corrupt, and even sometimes degenerate mortal officials.

There can be no logistical problems, and not all wars are a gang that can turn the tide.

Killiman laughed, and he took another sip of tea, as if he were doing an intermission,

[Makado approved the provisional government.] 】

Angron bred his waist and yawned,

[Not surprisingly, we're doing this, it's just that we don't have a name.] 】

Killyman paused,

What do you think? 】

Angelon opened his hand,

[I don't have excellent political literacy, so I probably can't give you a satisfactory reply - however, I sincerely hope that you will change my name, and in terms of appearance, I think you are more suitable to be a mascot than me. 】

[You are going to approve the documents? 】

[It's okay. 】

Anglon snorted and decisively skipped the humiliating part,

[But you still have to persuade Motarian to come over, doesn't Motarian's appearance really scare mortals?] 】

Killiman crossed his hands and propped up his chin,

[Machado has already agreed, and Motarian will appear...... As for how he will show up, I think it's a question for Macado and him. 】

Angelon narrowed his eyes and looked at Killiman in disbelief,

[You're really-]

The Lord of the Red Sand stretched his voice,

[Think Motarian cares about personal image?] 】

[Machado will help him care.] 】

Killiman replied nonchalantly, and when the break was over, he began to re-approve the papers.

Angelon sighed, this is a politician.

He casually wrote the number "seven" on the windowsill, and a small wisp of white mist floated from the fingertips of the Lord of the Red Sand, and Angron poked the mist that had begun to dissipate since it appeared.

All right!

(End of chapter)