It was an inconsequential moment

A moment that even Morgan himself had long forgotten.

However, Johnson remembered it and remembered it clearly.

——————

[The most efficient way and the best way are not synonymous, my Excellency, reason and emotion are a pair of conjoined babies with many contradictions. 】

[To put it offensively, if the fastest way to destroy Ran Dan is the collapse of the First Legion, what choice would you make? 】

——————

Johnson remembers that day.

It was a very ordinary day.

Between the second and third years of Morgan's official ascension to his psionic advisor, the fifth Terra standard year or so that Randan's army had provoked the war, the Imperial fleet had just won a hard-fought victory in the Wollaston system, earning a dirty medal made up of pure flesh and attrition.

The millions of elites of the two galactic hegemons are at war around an entire grain-producing star sector, and a single frontier fortress world needs one hundred and forty thousand mortal auxiliaries and a thousand dark angels to erase it, and there are twenty-two worlds like this heavily armed in the entire Wollaston sector.

Not to mention, the Randan War Engine Cluster in the middle of the star sector has a full six battle moons and thousands of capital ships, and in the Dark Angel's documents, this fleet has one of the most piercing names: [The most powerful, the most profane, the craziest, and never-before-seen opponent, the invincible fleet of the Randan. 】

Just to tear through the outer defenses and attack the main system of Wollaston, it took the First Legion a full six months,

And it wasn't until the silver-haired Miss [Soul Drinker] tore apart the flagship of the Randan fleet and the two largest capital ships in one fell swoop through a long spell that the vanguard of the Dark Angels seized the brief gap between the alien army and the loss of the command system, and truly rushed into the Wollaston system in one go.

But despite this, the battles of annihilation, as well as the encirclement and breakout that took place in the main galaxy, still lasted more than two hundred Terra standard days, and the blood of at least five thousand dark angels was completely drained on this land, and the number of fallen Ran Dan warriors was more than thirty times that number.

For any Astarte regiment, it was a great victory enough to be engraved into any monument to the Queen of Glory, a moment to be remembered with a grand military parade and a series of hymns.

But the First Legion was the only exception: there were no celebrations, no medals, not even whispered admiration that circulated among mortals and other legions, and the main forces of the Dark Angels left without hesitation at the moment of the end of the battle, and all they took with them was exhaustion, the blood of their comrades, and more orders from Johnson.

From that moment on, almost no one remembered Wollaston's name, and this tragic battlefield, with tens of thousands of bones and wreckage of battleships, became the most mundane of the First Legion's unsung achievements.

But not everyone has forgotten the name.

Even the Astarte warriors are not real, pure, outright war machines, ruthless butchers, especially in these flying times, when every legion sings triumphant songs and rejoices.

By the time the wreckage of Wollaston's ruins had been completely left behind, the whispers and vicious remarks of the Indomitable Truth had already become loud and clear, and even in a deliberately provocative manner, they had entered the ears of the genetic protogen.

They, the Terra, certainly have reason to be dissatisfied.

Johnson has only taken over the war with Randan for a few years, and in this fleeting period of time, the Terra veterans in the legion have been consumed by him at least a third, or even more, from Xana, to Sabis, and now Wollaston, Jandan's arrogance is still unabated, while the Dark Angel's army has lost more than 30,000 soldiers, of which at least 20,000 are Terra.

You must know that when Johnson returned to the empire, the total number of soldiers in the entire First Legion was only more than 60,000, even if the gene prototype increased this number to 100,000 with the new blood of Caliban, but these recruits who could not even perfectly execute the most basic tactics could not support the bloody Shura field with the Randan Empire, and in this war, it was always the warriors from Terra.

Countless honor-ridden companies never returned after a terrible battle, countless decorated orders broke their lineage after a bloody battle, countless ships were destroyed, and countless positions were left vacant, until the Calibans learned the art of fighting, sat in positions stained red by the blood of their predecessors, and stretched out their hands to take the traditions and honor of the Legion into their arms.

Until the genetic prototype that never gets tired walks out of a bloody Shura field, then raises its head, looks around the stars with a merciless gaze, and throws itself and his legion into another fierce battle with no end.

His gaze never seemed to fall on the heir.

It's as if he can represent everyone on his own.

It's as if everything he did was to cut off the next head.

It's as if he never cared about death and attrition, and never thought that anyone but himself could carry it all.

What arrogance.

How ruthless.

How crazy.

There are always Terrans who complain like that.

Their whispers wandered through the legions, among the battleships, in Johnson's ears.

And it was in this wave of whispering that the genetic prototype of the First Army pushed open the door to the training ground.

——————

Morgan, who had been waiting for a long time, saluted him, her body still reverberating with the aura of over-squeezing psionic energy.

It was the first training session after the Battle of Wollaston, and it was supposed to be an uneventful one.

But when Johnson raised the [Lion Sword] and quietly listened to the churning sound in the sea of souls, his heart was suddenly filled with a question, a question he had wanted to confide in a long time ago, but he had never found someone to confide in.

Luthor couldn't, he was too far away from the war, too far to control the flow of blood.

Neither can Couss, Johnson is not willing to let him carry the burden of this problem, he deserves more expectation and trust to accomplish true greatness.

Nemir is also not eligible, the former Caliban knight, though upright and trustworthy, will only advise the most standard of knightly charters and imperial decrees.

As for the Terras, there is no need to think about it, as their advice may be sincere, sincere, and wise, but their own identity is not suitable for this question.

He needed something different, something rebellious and unusual, and irrelevant, and he needed some different voices, even if they weren't worth it, even if they wouldn't take it seriously.

The progenitor's eyes lifted and looked at the mortal who was chanting the magic circle a hundred meters away.

——————

Are you tired? 】

……？

Morgan, who was pretending to be chanting those long spells, was stunned for a moment, and then realized that it was Johnson who was asking his own questions.

This is a rare thing, in the past training, this genetic prototype of the First Legion often did not say a word from beginning to end.

Morgan tilted his head, allowing the psionic energy to converge on his raised fingertips.

[Tired? 】

The sharp arrows of psionic energy were fired along with this rhetorical question, and they were overwhelmingly aimed at the genetic protoplasm.

Johnson didn't dodge, he moved his shoulder casually, and scattered the little tricks until the last of the void arrows came at him.

In a trance, the genogen actually saw the angry figure of Coswayne, whose heir was holding a large sword high, jumping in the air, the piercing edge aimed at his head, and his eyes were full of ruthlessness and determination.

The scene was so real that Johnson could even see the sweat drops on his son's neck, the moist and thick eyebrows squeezed by his pupils, and his lips that were open with nervousness and fear, spitting saliva and heat that symbolized fury.

The genogen frowned, and he flipped his wrist, and the greatsword in his hand unleashed a hurricane, tearing the false offspring in front of him to shreds in the blink of an eye.

[Illusion ......]

He growled in discontent, like a hungry lion looking at its fleeing prey.

You are always keen on illusions, worthless and new. 】

From a long distance, the answer to the genoplasm was a chuckle without any emotion.

Morgan seemed to think for a moment before answering the progenitor's anger.

[Because of practicality, Your Excellency.] 】

[For a psionic person of my level, a shoddy illusion is not difficult, I only need to breathe out to shape a false kingdom, become a false creator, like this raging warrior I can pull out a company in an instant, and the spiritual power consumed is not even as good as half of my recitation of the incantation. 】

[But as long as my enemies pause for a minute under this illusion: whether it is the hesitation of the familiar, the consternation of the terrifying, or the unexpected, the instinctive distraction of human energy will become a firm step towards my victory. 】

Johnson didn't speak, he walked around in the psionic storm set off by Morgan, casually blocking countless psionic tentacles that stretched out to his will, he had already faced too many attacks like this, from the initial surprise and rage, to the current familiarity, Johnson adapted quickly, he only needed to raise his will, he could easily distinguish which were psionic offensives that needed to be taken seriously, and which were just bluff cover.

The genogen dodged the onslaught that was enough to torment a hundred Astartes, and he even had the leisure to ask an additional question.

[If I don't dodge, will the illusion cause damage?] 】

Of course not, Your Excellency. 】

The psionic flame turned into a budding stamen at Morgan's fingertips, exuding an aura of life, miracle, and death.

[In the final analysis, the illusion is nothing more than a false, non-existent garden labyrinth, as long as you can see a direction and be steadfast, then you can easily step on even the most real illusions. 】

The corners of Johnson's mouth curled slightly.

He had memorized the phrase.

[Now, then, it's time for you to answer my question, Ms. Morgan.] 】

[I think, I have already answered.] 】

——————

Johnson listened to the laughter, and again, he frowned.

[Don't play pantomime with me. 】

[Do you feel tired, tired, tired of this war, tired of the endless fighting, tired of the most monotonous blood flowing in countless worlds, feeling weak that you can't continue this war. 】

Morgan was silent.

She was quiet for a while.

Then, a thick fog began to obscure the view of the genoplasm.

He could feel, he could hear, on the other side of this endless fog, the silver-haired lady was uttering a sigh, an incomparably long, genuine sigh, in the voice she was accustomed to mock and mock.

[My answer is serious, Your Excellency?] 】

[What qualifications, abilities, and reasons do I have to represent the thousands of warriors you really want to ask in your heart? 】

From the direction where Johnson was, there was only the most oppressive and dead silence.

[My comrades-in-arms did not fall one by one. 】

[None of my honors have been lost. 】

[Everything I have has has not been shattered by this war, I don't have to charge at the front line, I only need to face what I am good at, not expose my fragile body to radiation and fire. 】

Therefore, my answer is worthless, Your Excellency. 】

Silent.

There was a dead silence for a few seconds.

Then came a hurricane.

The mighty [Lion Sword] roared, thirsty for the mist wrapped in spiritual energy, and in the blink of an eye, the sea of smoke that filled the entire space disappeared, leaving only the two most powerful competitors, facing each other in silence.

Johnson's gaze was dangerous, his turquoise pupils flickering like they did now, the instinctive fury of a real beast when it was offended by the territory.

[You, make it clear. 】

[I made it very clear, Your Excellency. 】

Morgan just smiled, smiling insincerely.

[Just like the illusions just now, in the same time, I do have a better way, such as a psionic lightning, but I habitually choose the illusion as a means, because it is the best cost performance and the least consumption, and in my previous actual combat, it is also the most effective way. 】

So, I chose the most effective one over the best one. 】

[And you are now, aren't you the same?] 】

[At this point, in many ways, we are very similar. 】

Johnson did not reply, the corners of his mouth were downward, and he made a displeased reverse arc, his long golden hair mixed with his beard, tangled, and beneath his overly broad forehead, there was an emotionless gaze hidden by thick eyebrows.

[I don't doubt your loyalty and ability, Your Excellency, I don't think there is a figure in the whole empire who can fight you on both sides at the same time, at least not among the people I know. 】

[I can also roughly guess what you think, Your Excellency. 】

[After all, I've been fighting with you for a while, and I know your habits: tactics are fickle, but your style is down-to-earth, you like to use everything you can use, and you're keen on the most effective means. 】

[Therefore, I can vaguely guess some of your thoughts: if Randan's war will only be confined to the edge of the galaxy, if Randan's strength will only make the First Legion shed blood, so that the rest of the empire can be safe and prosperous, so that the empire can eliminate this powerful opponent with minimal casualties, then you will do so. 】

In fact, you're doing the same. 】

[You and your legion have endured all this, endured the pain that Ran Dan would have inflicted on the entire Empire, so that this war will always remain under the control of the Empire, even if the honor of the First Legion will not be known, and the blood of the First Legion will not stop flowing. 】

But you still made this choice, and when you needed a victim, you stepped forward. 】

[It is really great, very great, and such beliefs cannot be summarized with pale wisdom and courage, because they are not worth mentioning. 】

When you make this choice, no matter how much loyalty is in this galaxy, you are equal to loyalty. 】

[If you are not the most loyal. 】

Then the word loyalty is meaningless. 】

Johnson listened to these words, not a word.

His eyebrows twitched unconsciously.

He closed his eyes, trying to hear the slightest hint of falsehood and flattery.

But after the longest effort, his brain ruthlessly told him that every word in these words was from the heart.

thereupon

Johnson could only breathe.

The sound of his breathing trembled.

It's like his brain.

Soon, he will forget these meaningless words of flattery.

Inside, he convinced himself.

——————

[But.] 】

This abrupt turn was like falling from a steep mountain, and Johnson's indifferent eyebrows were raised in an instant.

You have overlooked one point, Your Excellency. 】

You are so noble that you regard exertion as cowardice. 】

You are so determined that you think hesitation is foolishness. 】

You are so self-disciplined that you see weakness as a betrayal. 】

Your loyalty is unquestionable, and for this loyalty, you have chosen the most effective way to deal with this war. 】

But the most effective is not necessarily the best, Your Excellency. 】

[The most efficient way and the best way are not synonymous, my Excellency, reason and emotion are a pair of conjoined babies with many contradictions. 】

You have chosen the most effective way and are striding towards victory, but you have forgotten that you are a giant, a great giant, and every step you take requires others to try their best to catch up. 】

So, when you turn your head, you wonder why everyone looks so tired. 】

Of course they will be tired, Your Excellency, for they are different from you. 】

You are unique. 】

"You shed sweat, but they shed blood. 】

You have chosen a method that is beneficial to all, but the price you have to bear is perhaps heavier than you think, Your Excellency. 】

[To put it offensively, if the fastest way to destroy Ran Dan is the collapse of the First Legion, what choice would you make? 】

——————

Morgan waited for a moment.

It wasn't until a long time later that she finally heard Johnson's laughter.

What kind of laughter that was.

Heavy, indifferent, and indifferent, but one can feel the flame-like burning and blazing.

He was like this, with his head down, laughing constantly, laughing slowly, laughing in fear, as terrifying as a silent roaring lion.

Finally, he gave his answer.

——————

[This ......]

[It's not an option.] 】

(End of chapter)