Kalas Typhon has been following Morgan for some time.

Perhaps even the Spider Lady herself did not realize what a thunderous name the Soul Drinker was among the many Astarte Legions, or rather, among the Astarte Legions who had fought in the Randan War.

At this time, eight years had passed since the outbreak of the Second Randan War, and it had been six or seven years since the reinforcements of the 15th Army Corps arrived at the front line against Randan.

In this time, which was neither long nor short, countless Astarte warriors and mortals walked the battle against Randan, most of whom never returned, and those who survived were often reluctant to mention more details about the war, they did not mention anything about Randan, or even forgot about it, except for a few flashes of light on the human side.

And in these memories, the [Soul Drinker] who fought the entire Randan War from beginning to end is one of the most mentioned characters, almost every character who has fought side by side with the main force of the First Legion will mention this powerful psionic, and even those front-line soldiers who have not participated in the battles planned by the Dark Angel can outline a terrifying figure in countless rumors and boasts.

And all this, Morgan didn't know, completely, didn't know.

For the Pale Lady, her war experience is different from most: whether as an advisor to the First Legion or as a secret blood relative of the Lion King, Morgan has always been closely following the Dark Angel's genetic protogen, either running to the most tragic battlefield or staying in the deep belly of the Glory Queen, and her social circle is temporarily limited to the Dark Angel and a few pen pals, these reserved characters naturally do not mention too much rumors from the outside world.

In a sense, Johnson imprisoned his blood relatives very well.

And as a genetic protogen, Morgan also almost instinctively ignored one point: what kind of miracles were in the eyes of others what things that were only a little laborious in her eyes, especially after the Sisyphus Star incident, with a certain laxity and laziness, this unintentional great power was more and more displayed in front of others.

Although most of the Dark Angel's battles are to be hidden and mothballed, there are always some that can be remembered by outsiders and allies, and as a first-class model worker of the First Legion, Morgan did not miss a single one.

As a result, Typhon, who was intent on gathering this information, amassed a shocking report and summary, and whenever he avoided everyone and flipped through the stories, his neck would be soaked in cold sweat, and a different kind of absurd feeling would hit his heart, making him confirm the truth of the news again and again.

But they are all true, at least those who praise them, swear by them.

These ridiculous stories may all be true, or they may just be pure rumors and lies, but even so, even if only one of them is true, it is enough to make the commander of the company of the death guard feel full of fear and hesitation in his heart.

The Soul Drinker, or rather, the Morgan Lady.

In the Graton Galaxy, relying on the unstable star and special environment in the local area, she used her own will to twist the sun of this galaxy into a pure storm of destruction, the frenzied electromagnetic and high temperature killed a whole fleet of Ran Dan in an instant, and with the death of millions of aliens as an opportunity, she invaded Ran Dan's thinking network deployed in this star sector, when the Imperial fleet launched a general attack, Ran Dan's star commander and the most important one hundred and twenty-nine senior officers ended their lives in the same instant, The Dark Angel sounded the horn of victory in the chaos of the alien army.

Above the firmament of the savage Kustira Alien World, with the ancient instruments provided by the Dark Angel, her mind reigns over the powerful alien realm of six colonized worlds, and with the whispered words and invisible threads, the Kusti Alien fleet falls into a dead silence, and their legions and people indulge in never-ending dreams, billions of savage creatures sink in her whispers, from kings to soldiers, The weapons and warships that could destroy the galaxy and the world were abandoned, and the palaces that inherited wisdom and pride were left unguarded, and this stubborn opponent who had made countless imperial generals sad gave up their resistance passively, until the bullets of the Dark Angel killed the last member of this thousand-year-old race, and they did not wake up.

And in the Titans, well, things are even more strange and mysterious: the First Legion has annihilated one of the largest fleets in the history of the war, and their own casualties are less than a thousand, and no one knows how they managed to do all this, except for one thing that can reveal the secrets of this war: after the war in the Titan system is over, the navigators of all the surrounding galaxies, psionics, and even anyone with psionic potential begin to have nightmares: they hear a scream, the most enchanting and iciest scream, This scream resounded above thousands of bones, echoing eternally in the endless void, and until now, it had not completely disappeared.

And compared to these rumors, which are almost mythical, those more [ordinary] feats can be called pale: whether it is the destruction of alien fortresses and nests like toppling sandcastles, or the transformation of war engines tens or hundreds of meters high into dust with the wave of her hand, or the rescue of thousands of meritorious veterans and more new blood who have served since the unification of Terra in one bloody battle after another, these real feats are enough for her to sing in the mouths of countless Astartes and psykers.

Truth and rumors are entangled, turning into a monstrous fog that obscures the true legend and greatness, and when outsiders witness all this, they can only watch the magnificent figure in the fog from afar, and guess blankly whether it is a bluff illusion or the tip of the iceberg of real fear.

Typhon leaned towards the latter.

And now, such a figure is right in front of his eyes.

Such a powerful, so terrifying, such a fearsome figure, an alpha or even a higher level of psionic master who can control himself, he cherishes his existence incomparably when he looks at the galaxy.

If only he could guide her to the true right path, and let her believe in that great being as his junior......

Such a feat should be enough for him to attract the slightest attention of the greatest and most benevolent of gods, and if he did well enough, in time he might indeed be able to enter the sacred garden and meet the great gods.

At that point, he will be able to ......

No, now is not the time to think about these futures, he needs to focus on the present, on the reality of the situation.

He should be careful, after all, this [Soul Drinker] came from the First Legion, a group of insane people who are incomparably mysterious and supposedly insanely loyal to the Puppet Emperor, and although she was previously a member of the more moderate Fifteenth Legion, no one can guarantee which side she is more influenced by.

If she has also become one of the Puppet Emperor's fanatics, then his task can be regarded as dying before she can get out of school, on the contrary, if she still retains the true wisdom of reason and independent thinking, then he has full confidence that she will join the right side.

But before that......

Deep down, Callas-Typhon never tires of reminding herself.

He had to be cautious, very cautious and careful, and he couldn't let anyone know what was going on in his heart.

This caution came from an experience long ago: Typhon remembered very well how he had come into contact with the Great Being in Galaspa, Mortarion's first choice after becoming the genetic prototype of the Legion, and the Legion had finally destroyed the resistance of the world, eliminated the tyrannical rulers, and replaced them with even more brutal imperial tax collectors.

And as Typhon walked alone on the ruins of Galaspa, he couldn't help but have the faintest resonance with this deplorable world, and he began to think back to his past and his tribulations: whether it was being discriminated against as a hybrid of human and alien hybrids, or being later shielded from the shadow of Mortarion, and not even being able to use his innate psionic powers at will, these things were like festering bile, boiling his self-determined heart.

It was in this festering that he saw the green mold that was flooding in the shadows, and he heard the most familiar whispers.

A creature that could not be described in normal human language came to him and sent out invitations and notices.

On that day, Typhon understood the true meaning of the galaxy, he was no longer deceived or hidden, and his life and knowledge were henceforth higher than his genetic father.

And now, he wasn't satisfied.

He wanted to go further.

This is not difficult, after all, no matter how you say it, the person in front of you is just a mortal.

She is no more noble than him.

With that in mind, Typhon held out his hand.

"Karas-Typhon."

"We'll be happy to serve you, ma'am."

——————

Morgan quietly looked at the hand reaching out to her, and she could feel that it was a hot and moist palm, containing confidence and scheming.

Instead of reacting immediately, she blinked, savoring every word of Typhon's heart.

Unfortunately, when the Death Guard's company leader stepped into the hallway, Lady Spider's web of mind invisibly clouded the visitor's mind.

So, like an ordinary traveler, she listened to the thoughts of "planning", "wooing", and "secret" into a waterfall in a deep valley, sloping down in her heart, and even every corner of Typhon's thoughts could be vividly demonstrated in her thoughts.

Morgan curled the corners of her mouth, and the third moment she saw Typhon, she had a rough idea of the person in front of her.

He was a company commander in a legion, and Morgan had seen all the company commanders so far better than him.

He was a psyker, and any Dark Angel think tank Morgan had ever seen would give him a headache at the very least.

He was a stealthy conspirator, and now, the conspiracy within him was echoing over and over again in Morgan's sea of thought like an echo in the valley.

Morgan's eyes narrowed, her eyebrows slightly curved, and the corners of her mouth curled in the lightest of arcs: an expression that was enough to make Coswayne or Aracus count down because they knew what it meant.

But alas, Typhon didn't know.

Morgan. 】

She smiled slowly and stretched out her fingers, and this cooperative attitude even made the first company commander feel a certain joy.

Then, the two hands were clasped together.

"Bang!"

The thud echoed through the hallway, and the moment he shook hands, Typhon fell to the ground with a thud, clenching his teeth and doing everything in his power to keep himself from screaming.

Damn, three of his fingers were broken, and several bones were broken in his right arm!

Typhon bowed his head, for he knew how hideous his expression was now: he felt only a twist, a feeling that bones were being twisted alive.

Are you alright, Lord Typhon? 】

He heard the woman's voice, and it was indeed concerned: even if he analyzed it with the greatest malice, it was indeed full of concern and anxiety.

Damn it......

Typhon struggled to calm his hideous countenance, and he looked up and took a closer look at Morgan's pupils: there was indeed complete concern, and he could not see the slightest falsehood.

Is this camouflage?

No, it can't be, he's Typhon, he's the one who has the truth: he can't fail to see the disguise of a mortal, even if she's a psyker.

Damn, what the hell is going on here?

He gritted his teeth, trying his best to bring on a smile, a smile that had everything under control.

"No, it's fine, it's fine, Ms. Morgan, it's all right."

He looked at Morgan's outstretched fingers, hesitated, and helped him up.

"Smack!"

This time, the sound of his finger joints snapping was heard throughout the hallway, and Typhon did feel his fingers trapped in the steel glove, and then the roots snapped and couldn't move.

…… He...... Damn it......

He looked up at Morgan, who seemed to be stunned, and he saw that the powerful psyker seemed to be shocked by the scene in front of her, and she thought for a while before she hurriedly used her psionic power to heal Typhon's severance.

But there was no doubt that this intense pain would stay with him for some time.

"What the hell is going on?"

He gasped and looked up, but all he saw was Morgan standing tall with an apologetic smile of pity and other inexplicable emotions on his face.

[Ah...... I remember, Lord Typhon, I just guided the ship out of the storm in subspace, so I still have some residual strength in me, I didn't expect them to hurt you like this, Your Excellency......]

She seemed to say something else, but Typhon didn't listen anymore, he just looked at her pupils and face, listened to her tone, looked at the illusion that she seemed to be taller than himself now, and in some kind of psychic whispering and suggestion, these elements mixed together to form a kind of appearance that felt familiar to Typhon.

In the next second, it dawned on him.

Isn't that exactly what happened on Barbaros?

Mortarian, his former comrade-in-arms, now the so-called [Father of Genes], is like this, coming to his side again and again when he is exhausted from fighting, and exacting [concern] with a relaxed face.

He was always the stronger one, he was born a noble son of God, with a stronger bloodline, strength, and even body than him, and he could always hide Typhon in the shadows, no matter how he could not break free.

That guy...... It's just that he was born with a good life, and he can look down on him like that, spreading the so-called goodwill.

Where is he better than himself, he Typhon is the one who has grasped the truth.

At this moment, neither his purpose nor Morgan's words were completely irrelevant, and this specific occasion and whispered hint seemed to seize the darkest and most secret corner of Typhon's heart, and release what he had been trying to hide.

Typhon felt nothing more than the humiliation he had suffered in this image.

They all come from Motarian

Originally, he didn't like this so-called father of genes.

Now, he doesn't like it even more.

(End of chapter)