In today's Dark Angel Legion, as long as Morgan asks for it, there will be no refusal or delay.

Even if some Dark Angels are arrogant in their bones and don't want an outsider to be so powerful in the Legion, they don't have the courage to resist the wrath of the Knight King from Caliban, let alone the strength to provoke the Spider Queen.

In particular, they had discovered in their despair that the silver-haired lady seemed just as dangerous and equally invincible without the use of psionic powers.

Even Astran, the mighty swordsman in the top twenty of the Astarte warriors in the entire Empire, the arrogant veteran who had been in the service since Terra and had no one in his eyes but the Emperor, lost the courage to continue fighting for the next few breaths when the blade of his sword was pointed at the counselor whom Johnson trusted in a single fit of rage.

Astram spoke to no one about his conflict with Morgan, and he seemed to have a desperate desire to forget it, to forget the second he came closest to death and eternal torture.

So, when Morgan opened her eyes, her eyes reeking of the aftermath of the battle inadvertently caught a glimpse of Astraan's armor, she could see the sound of the arrogant dark angel's armor rubbing between his armor at the slightest tremor of a moment that no one could have noticed.

"The Primordial wants to see you, Ms. Morgan, and he ordered us to bring you to him as soon as you are back in shape."

[I know. 】

Morgan waved her hand casually, she did not get up immediately, but held her forehead, rested for a while, no dark angel dared to disturb her, and the usual brutality of the sons of Johnson melted like ice and snow in front of the true brute queen.

But Morgan didn't embarrass these poor people for long, she did need to tell Johnson everything she saw, so that the Dark Angel could be prepared, she knew that the Knight King of Caliban was anxiously waiting for her information, after all, before that, Randan's fleet had been shrouded in an extremely strange subspace fog, and it was difficult for even Morgan to see more details remotely.

Perhaps for other legions, a few Terra standard hours away from the outbreak of war might be too much, but for the Dark Angels, this is not the case.

Morgan walked out of the room quickly, the events that had just happened in the Sea of Souls still echoing in her mind, making her feel a slight tingling.

Whether it was the brief confrontation with that Ran Dan [Emperor], or the impact of witnessing the essence of that scarlet light, it more or less shook the peace and balance that Morgan had been painstakingly maintaining in his mind, and those souls that were devoured by her once again raised a terrifying snow dance, and those soul fragments that were discarded and destroyed at will also trembled under the shadow of the three terrifying wills, and even more fragments continued to fall from her dusty memories and emotions.

As she made her way from her meditation retreat to Johnson's command room, Morgan quickly calmed down all the confusion and commotion in her mind in the corridor, and she had decided that in the next war, she would consume all but those souls that were important enough.

Prior to this, she had planted about three hundred beacons on the main battlefield known as Tux Five, allowing her to move quickly between these locations: but as it stands, this number is not safe.

A little more.

Other backup measures should also be further supplemented and strengthened.

Safe.

Safety first.

——————

While thinking about this, and sorting out and placing the souls and memory fragments that were scurrying around in his mind, Morgan suddenly noticed something interesting.

One...... Pieces that don't belong to her.

Specifically, it appears to be a fragment related to Horus, a part of Horus's deep memories, and Morgan remembers that he had subconsciously probed Horus during his conversation with him, even if it was just some almost routine glances, and it didn't seem to be rewarding now.

The moment before pushing open the door of Johnson's conference room, Morgan casually glanced at the contents of this fragment, and with the speed of thinking that the genetic prototype was proud of the physical universe, she read the contents of this fragment in an instant.

Oh, it's about Horus.

Horus, Perturabo.

With the Eleventh Primordial.

——————

When Perturabo had just returned to the Human Empire, this genius, who was too conspicuous even in the genetic prototype, had attracted countless attention.

Although those who paid attention to him were soon frightened away by the horrific torture of Eleven, some of the more daring and careful characters chose to approach the moody-looking Lord of Olympia.

Horus is one of them.

Everyone condemned the Iron Lord's brutal methods, but only Horus saw the somewhat oversensitive heart beneath Perturabo's violent exterior.

And for the wolf god, there is nothing like fighting side by side to bring him closer to other brothers.

As a result, a joint operation was brought up by Horus, and the terrified Iron Warriors at the center of the Primordial Atrocities were assembled to target the western frontier of the galaxy, where the Eleventh Primordial was clearing out an alien empire that had enslaved more than a dozen human worlds.

The Shadowmoon Wolves and the Iron Warriors formed an alliance of about 10,000 men, and by the time this force arrived as support, the Eleventh Legion was scattering, eroding the last line of defense of the Xenomorphs.

The two Primitives find their brother in the skies above a former human colony, and the purest of primordials are testing the strength of his heir: he orders a company to liberate the world, while he himself stays on the ship, relying on feedback from the ground and his calculations to gauge the value and significance of this company.

The Emperor's Eleventh Primordial, or Mengele, was a thinner figure than his brothers, which seems to have something to do with his malnutrition as a child, he did not always wear battle armor, but more often than not, he preferred to wear a simple white coat, and his ten fingers were protected by the precision instruments he had built, the sophistication of which even made Ferrus marvel at them, which significantly improved Menger's ability to operate.

Menger greeted his two brothers on the bridge of his Glorious Queen, with short blonde hair and a handsome face that could be seen in the Primordial, and although he was never known for his strength or tenacity, few were willing to face the Primordial's superb swordsmanship: Menger's sword was like a rushing current, and it would not let go of any opponent's mistakes.

Horus embraced his brother, and the wolf waffler was disturbed by what he had seen: whether it was the overly silent battleship, or the sad, machine-looking Astartes, or even the whirlwind torpedo that loomed in the shadows of the fleet of the Eleventh Legion in the light reflected through the portholes.

Wait, isn't that torpedo the world that his heirs are fighting for?

Horus raised an eyebrow, but the smile remained on his face.

The wolf shepherd tried to convince himself that at the very least, he could feel a genuine welcome and joy in Menger, and the lord of the Eleventh Legion greeted Perturabo with the same enthusiasm, even to the surprise of the Lord of Olympia.

Obviously, his brother still has a deep affection for blood relatives.

And when Horus saw how the rewards that the emperor had given to Menger were so preciously protected, he was convinced that his brother was still the same as before.

The whole empire knew that Menger's fanatical loyalty to the emperor was like serving the most perfect creature in the world, revering and loving his genetic father, and only Roga's fanaticism could rival him.

"Menger, my brother."

Horus blinked, he looked at the world beneath his feet, too much confusion ignited in his heart.

"I hope we weren't late, what are you doing now?"

"An experiment, Horus, an experiment to consider my offspring."

Menger smiled, he picked up an electronic board, handed it to Horus, and Perturabo came up with it, the Olympians asking while the wolf shepherd was still thinking about the countless numbers on it.

"Are you calculating this battle?"

"Correct answer, my clever brother Peturabo."

Menger clapped his hands, expressing his attitude.

"Through the recording and summary of the past achievements of this unit; Inventory and estimation of the strength of the defenders of this world; Add to that all the experience and lessons learned since the beginning of this war, and all the contingencies that I have gathered up to the present time, and I can correctly calculate how long it will take for this company to destroy all its opponents and reclaim the world, down to the minute. ”

This somewhat arrogant statement sent a look of doubt in the wolfherd's eyes, and he looked at Perturabo, seeking confirmation.

"In theory, it's possible."

The Iron Lord nodded, acknowledging his brother's claim, but soon Perturabo's brow furrowed at the two blinding lights on the electronic board.

"Brother Menger, what do these two [failures] mean?"

"Literally."

"Like I said, they've failed twice, twice, for the same ridiculous reasons, they didn't do what I had been told, even though they could have done it exactly as I had planned."

There was something cold in Menger's words that sent chills down Horus's neck.

"That'...... How long will it take them now? ”

"There are ten minutes left, this is the last chance I have given them, more than enough, although they are completely light, there are only some low-level opponents in this world, even new recruits can do it, not to mention that they have a full two hundred."

"I've experimented."

The Eleventh Legion's genetic protogens gave this answer with a smile.

And then.

Fifteen minutes passed.

Horus and Perturabo's gazes were a little wandering, because anyone could see that Menger's face was already covered with ice.

"What's going on?"

Finally, the primordial received the signal of his own heir.

"I have warned you that I will not forgive you again for daring to delay the battle plan because of such meaningless things."

The voice on the other side seemed to be a little hoarse and noisy, and after a while, the staccato sound came back.

"I'm sorry, father, we ......"

"Enough!"

"You're five minutes late."

"It's not something to be tolerated."

"But that's at least five thousand children......"

"I said it!"

"Everything! Take my plan! As the first goal! ”

"You've failed twice! This is the last chance! ”

“…… Father, at the very least, please ...... these civilians."

"Bang."

The soldiers of the Eleventh Legion on the ground seemed to be trying to say something, but Menger had already hung up the communication, and there was no anger on his face, only endless coldness and indifference.

"Launch."

He said.

“…… What? ”

“…… What to emit? ”

Horus instinctively wanted to ask, but his question was quickly answered.

Torpedo, that whirlwind torpedo.

After Menger's order was given, the ruthless destroyer was unleashed almost in the blink of an eye, smashing towards the world of Astarte warriors with countless people and a company of Astarte warriors.

Horus even forgot to scream, for he was completely stunned, even by Peturabo, and the two Primordials watched as the world, which was already so close to the Human Empire, was completely desolate.

In the cold and merciless blast of the whirlwind torpedo, even more ruthless than it was the face and words of the Eleventh Primordial.

"I gave them a chance."

"Count this once, three times."

"Three times, they have to delay the battle plan because of the so-called rescue, they have ignored my warnings and orders, they will not follow these optimal plans, they have not done everything that the highest level of existence should do."

"They're losers."

"It's a mistake of natural selection, a waste of resources, opportunities and futures."

"Incompetence is unforgivable."

"For the Empire, there is no difference between the incompetent and the most sinful enemies."

"For the incompetent, for the losers, the only way to deal with them is to destroy, because they are no longer able to contribute, they are no longer worthy to carry out any of the plans of the great emperor."

"This is what happened to them."

"Whoever it is, whatever they've done, that's what incompetence ends."

"Whoever it is."

——————

"Even if it's me."

(End of chapter)