【Indomitable Truth】

Under the gaze and waiting of hundreds of knights, their only lord, the knight king of Caliban, paced calmly out of the shadows of the cloister, like a man of mythology from an ancient scroll, stepping through countless fogs and hustle and bustle to descend into the ranks of mortals.

Leon Johnson, Lord of the Dark Angels.

The sharpest blade in the galaxy.

He is also the king who rules over the Caliban and countless bloody battlefields.

And now, the former lone husband is no longer lonely.

Coswayne stood to the right of his immediate boss, Aracios, behind them were the elite of the Ninth Knights, and farther away were the best Dark Angels of the Second and Sixth Knights, and the two Knight Lords who commanded them, Gale and Morion, were also there.

Everyone heard the sound of the iron boots on the ground, and no one could get it wrong: the unique intensity and frequency of the sound was unique in the Legion, symbolizing the imminent arrival of their genetic father.

But this time, things seem to be a little different.

Even the dullest of the dark angels could clearly feel that in the steady and heavy footsteps of their genetic father, there seemed to be some crisper, quicker, and sharper sounds, as if they were the crystal of snow spreading on a heavy mountain peak, and the sound of this second was very different from Johnson's footsteps, but there was no more abruptness.

Soon, their questions were answered.

The king appeared before his knights, and beside him was the silver-haired mortal, who stood out even though she was no longer in a long dress.

Maids, advisors, henchmen, harlequins, courtiers......

Suddenly, countless identities and judgments echoed in the chests of hundreds of Dark Angels, some of whom may have been accustomed to Morgan following Johnson in the most dangerous battlefields, while others may not have cared about Johnson's actual situation from the deepest part of their hearts, but only regarded him as the most ordinary Legion Commander.

But no matter who they were, when they really saw the [One Mortal] with long silver hair floating leisurely above the many knights, in front of several knights and Grand Gurus, they still instinctively felt that this scene was so dazzling.

Coswayne sighed in his heart, sighing for the scene before his eyes: the general and the warrior were far away at the foot of the royal ladder, and the cloth-clothed man was proud of the ladder, did his genetic father know what it meant, whether it was in the hierarchical Seraphe or in the Caliban knight culture?

Or maybe he doesn't care at all?

Coswayne was not jealous of Morgan, he knew that her dedication and ability deserved this position, but as a figure who was hand-picked to reconcile the contradictions within the Legion, he had to think from the perspective of more people.

Coswayne's gaze flickered, and he couldn't help but look at the mortal beside the Father of Genes, the silver-haired lady who had been with them for several years, she was wearing that black armor, and there was a humble smile on her face, but from her plain and straightforward gaze, proud neck and straight chest, Coswayne saw a certain kind of almost innate majesty and confidence, these auras were inadvertently and slowly overflowing, and would only be captured by a few.

He frowned.

The lion king's henchman then looked at his genetic father, and then moved his gaze back to Morgan, his gaze wandered vaguely between the two, and subconsciously felt that there was an inexplicable ...... between the two Similarities.

Coswayne was probably the first person in the entire First Legion to have such an understanding, after all, he was probably the only figure in the Astarte Legion whose duties, tasks, and status were constantly changing and changing, and who had been in constant contact with Johnson and Morgan for several years.

And now, he's taking advantage of that, recalling the traces that have remained in his mind for years, whether it's Morgan's otherworldly psionic abilities or the strange attitude of his genetic father after Sisyphus III......

Coswayne didn't think much more, and after getting a vague guess, he voluntarily stopped thinking and analyzing the problem: this was not his task, since the gene prototype did not speak, then he must have his own plan, and there was no need for him to speculate.

At this thought, a vague memory flashed through his mind: when he led the mortal advisor to fetch the armor, in the interludes she had been wearing it, Coswayne had finally reminded the silver-haired lady in some cryptic words after some long thought and constant inner choice.

She is not the same type as them.

Type, it's a euphemism he's chosen, not the more straightforward: class, race, collective, or whatever.

As Johnson's handpicked figure to reconcile the Terrans and the Caliban, Coswayne knew very well that while the Caliban, who admired Johnson more, had more affection for Ms. Morgan, the Terra veterans, who symbolized true power, were unhappy that their genetic father trusted a mortal so much: of course, this did not mean that they did not respect Morgan's power, but that they were accustomed to using this reckless act as a starting point to express their dissatisfaction with Johnson's many actions, nothing more.

Coswayne had tried to keep the favored lady low-key with hints, and the armor incident was just one of many attempts, but Morgan didn't seem to understand what he meant.

Now, of course, it seems that she may just not want to understand.

Coswayne bowed his head.

A voice in his heart told him that from now on he didn't have to think anything about this lady anymore.

Could it be that the father of his genes could still be bewitched?

He was amused by his own thoughts.

In the midst of this self-amusement, Coswayne heard the arrival of the Storm Birds of the Sixth Legion, and he subconsciously concentrated his mind and did his job.

And before that, a vague thought flashed through his mind.

That Ms. Morgan.

The way she wore her armor was indeed much more pleasing to the eye than when she wore a robe and skirt.

——————

Riemann Ruth arrived at the Indomitable Truth aboard a stormbird known as Helmgart, with only four Space Wolves behind him.

The Genomorph of the Sixth Legion first looked around the place that greeted him: the Hangar of the Indomitable Truth was a wide enough but dark place that it could even be called eerie, with only the occasional flash of servo skulls illuminating the armor of some of the Dark Angels.

Although this gloom could not block the vision of the genetic prototype and Astarte, Riemannlus still subconsciously cursed his brother in his heart, after getting used to the open-mindedness and brightness of his own battleship, these dark places were really unpleasant.

He even smelled something he didn't like.

The Wolf King's gaze swept over the phalanx of dark angels waiting for him, and stopped at the end of the gloomy country, where the king of this kingdom, his brother, stood.

The two genetics had spoken before, but it was at a collective meeting convened by the Emperor, separated by tens of thousands of stars through projection and psionic energy, leaving behind hurried conversations and words, and this was the first time that they had spoken face-to-face.

The wolf king of Fenris looked at his brother, and at the first sight of Johnson, Riemanrus assumed that his brother was a king-like figure: it could not be more obvious, and his armor, his manners, and even the mink he had worn so deliberately during such a time of war, seemed to express it clearly.

Perhaps, at another time, his brother will be able to establish his own kingdom, and through his wrist, strength, and sword, he will rule over thousands of vassals, high on the throne of knights, and ride the endless stars.

When Riemanrus walked up to Johnson, he thought so.

[Riemann. 】

Johnson whispered his brother's name.

Ryman from the Ruth tribe, this is the true meaning of the name [Rieman Ruth].

Johnson, my brother. 】

The two primordials addressed each other affectionately, but their actual movements were far from that: no hugging, no handshake, the two Legion Masters kept a relatively safe distance, a distance large enough for them to draw their weapons.

[Your fleet is doing reasonably well in the Void, and you've kept your promises, both of which, frankly, surprise me a bit. 】

Johnson smiled insincerely, and he spoke softly of his brother, his turquoise pupils exuding a faint arrogance that was fearless.

[Perhaps, you are not as bad as the rumors, but your children may not. 】

[At least you and I have fulfilled our promises, so let this matter pass.] 】

Riemann Ruspi skipped the topic with a smile, but immediately after that, he asked a question that was bothering him.

[Speaking of which, Johnson, how did you find this place so quickly, and you tell me the truth, how the hell did you get there?] 】

The lion of Caliban is vague.

[Observation, searching, and some luck, but it's not my credit, if you really want to know ......]

He turned away to reveal the silver-haired figure standing behind him, and it wasn't until this moment that Riemanlus really noticed the little creature hidden beneath his brother's incomparably dazzling figure.

Morgan, my psionic advisor. 】

Johnson's brief introduction rang in his ears, but Riemannus didn't have the energy to listen, and the moment he actually saw Morgan, the strange sensation in her made the wolf king with a keen sense of smell feel that something was wrong.

He glanced at it.

I took another look.

Then frowned.

On the other side, Johnson carefully observed Riemanrus's expression: he watched Fenris's wolf king's expression turn from the purest shock at the beginning to a certain instinctive jealousy and hostility, but these narrow elements quickly disappeared in the next second, and turned into some kind of genuine thinking and observation, and then ......

No then.

The matter of Riemannus Ruth always stops at thinking.

The wolf king of Fenris observed the [mortal] in front of him with some consternation, and he instinctively felt that this silver-haired woman who was smiling and saluting himself was not simple: it was the instinct of the purest beast.

But when he thought about it, he found that he couldn't seem to think of anything.

In a word...... Something is wrong with this mortal.

After a few seconds of hesitation, Riemanrus finally came to this conclusion, and his gaze rightfully returned to Johnson's.

【…… I thought one of my brothers, Magnus, would be enough, Johnson. 】

[Don't confuse me with him, Riemann, I just chose the quickest way to end the war. 】

The Wolf King pouted.

[Morgan? Very good, on the front line of Ran Dan, I have also heard of this name, I have heard of the name of the Soul Drinker, if I am not mistaken, she is from the Thousand Sons Legion? 】

[Now, she's mine.] 】

In the face of Johnson's arrogant answer, Riemann Ruth just snorted lightly, and there was a lot of confusion in his heart in an instant, wanting to ask Johnson for clarification, but he knew very well that it was not possible now, he had more important things.

As a result, the wolf king's fur was furious, and he seemed to be in some kind of anger.

[In other words, with the help of this psyker, you knew Duran's location early in the morning - and then didn't tell me, leaving my fleet out for another month?] 】

Johnson chuckled, now that he had the advantage in his hand, he could naturally contemptuously face the criticism deliberately provoked by Riemanrus.

[If you take the initiative, my brother, then of course I will talk about everything, and now, the question has lost its meaning, and Duran is at our feet, waiting for us to join forces to pick the fruits of victory. 】

Joining forces ......

The words furrowed Riemanrus' brow.

[It was I who took on this task, Johnson, and for months, my heir has shed countless galaxies and worlds for this mission. 】

Johnson just smiled.

[Do you think that in the month I took over the mission, my legion was on an outing?] We are also fighting, Riemann, and there is honor for us in this war. 】

The wolf king of Fenris grinded his teeth, and the chilling voice overflowed from his mouth, and his gaze swept over Johnson, and then he realized that neither his brother nor the 100% problematic mortal beside his brother was afraid of this inferior threat.

He lowered his voice and spoke word for word in a tone that only two people could hear.

[It's not a matter of honor, lion!] You know what I'm referring to, I have to cut off the head of that Durán tyrant with my own hands, that's the most important thing, as for those bullshit honors? Fuck it. 】

Johnson didn't even take a step back, he raised his eyelids and looked directly at his brother, a smile on his lips that made Riemanrus want to go crazy.

[You want to cut off his head?] Oh, my brother, that's not that hard. 】

[I brought three knights, you brought two Dalian, the strength we have at hand is enough to completely destroy this world, and all the fortresses and defense lines on the ground have been clearly displayed in my divination box at this time, I know where the tyrant of Duran is hiding now, and I also know how to hit his palace as quickly as possible. 】

[I have even devised a plan, I plan to let my Sixth Knights resist the garrison around the palace, let the Second Knights cut off the supply of all planetary shields, and then I will personally lead the Ninth Knights to pull out all the strongholds and reinforcements around the palace, so that this war can be a simple siege, even if you don't come, I will cut off the head of the tyrant within a week, or make all the Durans completely desperate and take the initiative to offer him to me. 】

[But now, since you are here, and with you a force that is useless except for the pig rush, then I don't mind changing my plan, for example, let my heirs cut off the front of those Durans, and you can lead a company to storm the palace, and I believe that you can kill everyone there and take the honor of victory.] 】

[It's not a robbery! 】

Riemannus's muffled voice had now turned into some kind of gnashing of teeth.

[This was originally mine!] I started this war, and I was in charge of it from start to finish, so it had to be my sword that cut off that bastard's head! 】

Johnson looked at Riemanrus's somewhat distorted face with an interested expression.

[If you are obsessed with these honors, then please feel free, I don't care about these, for me, the so-called Duran is no different from the countless worlds in this galaxy that are still resisting, they are just rows of numbers that will be erased sooner or later, neither to hate, nor to invest more feelings, only the Great Expedition really matters. 】

Riemanlus fell silent, he turned his head sideways, and looked at his brother carefully, as if to figure out how much sincerity there was in his words, and finally, the wolf king laughed.

This is indeed Johnson's heart.

So, the Fenris whispered.

[I don't care about them either, after all, it's not a war for me. 】

[It's just a revenge. 】

All I need is to make the world burn. 】

[Yes, Burning ......]

Johnson is smile made Ruth feel bad.

But before that, have you forgotten anything, Riemann? 】

Ruth's expression stiffened slightly.

[Do you need me to remind you?] Your vows? Or do you need me to retell everything in front of everyone? I'd love to. 】

Johnson smiled, a smile that could be called schadenfreude, and his eyebrows were hooked up against Riemanruth's somewhat stiff, even purple, face.

He felt a hint of pleasure.

Riemannlus breathed heavily, the sound was like a dull storm from the god of thunder and lightning, his fingers subconsciously crossed the hilt of the sword, his eyes fixed on Johnson in front of him, and the lion king just looked at each other in the same way.

For a moment, everything was so quiet.

Both the Dark Angel and the Space Wolf were taking deep breaths, subconsciously stroking their weapons.

But after a long few seconds, the wolf king still lowered his head.

He roared, in a softer voice that everyone could hear.

[Listen, Johnson, my brother! 】

[I'm sorry for wronging you! So I rushed here and asked for your forgiveness! 】

Finally, Johnson laughed, and he took the initiative to stretch out his arm.

The brothers hugged each other tightly, and as their faces drew close to each other, Riemanlus's changed words poured out in Johnson's ears.

This is my oath, Johnson, to your knights. 】

[But you also remember!] If you dare to fire at my cubs again, there's only one outcome between us! 】

Johnson smiled, as if he didn't care, but through his almost instinctive shaking of his shoulders, it was clear to Riemanrus that he had succeeded in scaring his brother.

This made him laugh, and the last depression was swept away.

The wolf king patted his brother on the shoulder again,

[Okay, now, let's talk about the next offense, like I said, Johnson, I hope ......]

And the lion of Caliban just waved his hand.

[I said, Riemann, I don't care. 】

You can just be responsible for attacking the palace, and my men will be outside for two hours. 】

This assurance added a touch of affection to Riemanrus's smile, but he couldn't help but ask.

[That...... What about two hours later? 】

——————

[Then it depends on each person's ability. 】

(End of chapter)