For a moment, the Ultramarines Lord's gaze seemed strange.

He seemed to see something enough to shock him: from the body of the Genetic Mother of the Second Legion.

This was observed by the Old Guard at the very beginning of the ceremony.

Jean-Lana was now standing on the edge of the platform, he stood third behind his own protogen, behind the unrivaled President of the Council Marshall and the chief champion Bayar, and in the name of the chief janissary of the Avalonian tyrant, he was able to stand not far from the two protogens, always carrying out those emergencies that were theoretically insignificant.

It's a subtle position, and it's an art of symmetry: although there was no rehearsal or communication beforehand, the Legion Leaders standing behind the two Genotypes could see a hint of familiarity on the faces of their opponents.

The veteran Marshall is looking at Marius Gage: the former legion commander who handed over the Ultramarines to the Lord of Macurag, who is said to have fought in the name of the Thunder Warrior; Bayard looked at Valentus Dollo with interest: the hero of Otlama and the warrior of Killiman.

As for Rana himself, he had expected him to be pitted against the famous head of the Invincible Guard, but when Gilliman introduced his children, he heard a name that was unfamiliar to him: Flatus Auguston.

The name was unfamiliar to him, but just by seeing that rugged arrogance, Rana could guess what kind of character he was.

Born warriors - but elsewhere, it is unknown.

Rana came to this conclusion, and he was satisfied, and quickly turned his attention to what really mattered: he hadn't checked for the protoplasm for five seconds, which was almost a dereliction of duty.

Such a conclusion may sound alarmist, even comical, but among the hundreds of fighters on the platform, it is a real and widespread situation: at all times, dozens of pairs of vigilant and rational eyes are focused on the two normal-looking genetic agents.

This magnanimous lookout seemed to have been transformed into an overly noisy morning dome with this somewhat slow conversation: the sons of the two emperors were like the dim sun and moon at dawn, and beside them were the innumerable glittering stars of the Astartes.

Of all the fools present, perhaps only one could escape this stupid state of concern and confusion: the palace lord stood at the edge of the crowd, she did not get too close because of her double nobility, but grasped a perspective that could witness everyone, like a mother who sees a serious drama between children, and smiled silently.

With Ms. Yuton's smile on her face, the welcome ceremony in the military square ended with a happy ending, and the large number of people around the square returned to their daily lives in an orderly manner under the command of the Central Praetorian Guard and the Ultramarines, who were far from real warriors, but most of whom had undergone paramilitary training, and made a deep impression on Morgan's children.

The Lord of the Ultramarines took a fleeting moment, his eyes more powerful than any contemplative or reckoning machine scanned the crowd on either side of the square, until he confirmed that everything was according to his plan, order and orders, and the Archon of Macurag regained his smile, and he led his blood relatives to the Hero's Avenue, which ended in the famous Castle of Hera.

The two Genogens led a river of indigo and pale silver toward their destination with unstoppable momentum, and behind them were their finest offspring, and the mortal dignitaries and councilors who had arrived from the Continents of Macurag and even the Otlamar Universes were allowed to greet them on both sides of the road, most of them with optimism and greedy desire for all the bustling trade that might unfold between the Five Hundred Worlds and the Morgan Realm.

"Some of these mortals came to Macurag two months early."

Having just passed through the welcoming array of mortals, the Lord of Maculag seemed to unintentionally reveal such information to his blood relatives.

"Because of their location, most of them come from the northern part of the Five Hundred Worlds, or the frontiers of the northwest and northeast, and you should have heard of the most well-known places: among them are the Foundry Bishop of Acatelan, the Titan Princes of Mancora, the High King of Nimsa, and the Governor of the Nest of Ikar 4......"

"You should know these places."

The smile of the Lord of the Ultramarines was so gentle and harmless, and Morgan stroked the five stars of the inverted demon on the armor on his chest, and he also showed a smile that was not flawed from any point of view.

Know, of course I know.

Acatelan and Mancora, as the headquarters of the Forge World and the Titan Legion, hold the shortest path west of Avalon to the Maelstrom; Nimsa is just east of the Avalon Star Zone, and these two places alone are enough to sandwich the whole of Avalon in between.

And the Ikar 4 star?

Ha, this nest world is directly south of Avalon, a stone's throw away from Morgan's territory: if the Lord of Maculag hadn't explained it himself, Morgan wouldn't even know that the governor of this place was already a subordinate of Otrama.

Is her east, west, and south already covered with Ultramarine's indigo?

Very well, let her think, which brother is next to the only remaining north?

Well......

It seems to be Peturabo.

……

*Swearing.

……

So......

What do you want to express to me? The king of the five hundred worlds?

On the premise of maintaining etiquette, the smile in the Spider Queen's pupils was gradually swallowed by her cold thoughts, and when she looked directly at Killeman again, the corners of her mouth were still ritually hanging, but only reason and inquiry remained in her blue pupils.

And Killiman happened to see these rational pupils.

……

……

How similar to Ms. Judton.

The Lord of the Ultramarines couldn't help but sigh softly, and for a moment, he even saw a wonderful fragment of decades ago in this pair of rational pupils: Lady Eudon was not always kind, and when he did make some mistakes and impulses, it would be this rational pupil that greeted him.

It's nostalgic, isn't it?

A smile crossed the corners of the original gene's mouth, and in his eyes, this blood relative who exuded the light of the city of seven hills all over his body seemed to have a rare temperament, such a temperament he had only seen in a few people: even the other original bodies that were also the heirs of the emperor did not all possess such a temperament.

Such a conclusion became a primitive instinct, like a savage recklessness, that grew rapidly into the marble heart of the Lord of Macurag, running with reason and thought, and the scene seemed so dissonant, but for good reason.

Compared to his brothers, a certain master of Maculag, who never refused to admit that he was an idealist element, was naturally less resistant to existence in some subspaces.

Naturally, in the face of Morgan's awakening of the original identity, he was born with the passive subspace skill [Thousand People and Thousands of Faces], when other genetic primordials can barely resist, or maintain a relatively indifferent attitude.

The great, strong, and rational Lord of Maculag was successfully recruited in an instant.

When he saw his blood relatives and involuntarily sighed in his heart [Lady Judton], a preconceived impression was planted in the depths of his heart at the moment when the genetic protogen was not aware of it, and when he looked at the Lord of Avalon again, he seemed to see her as a person who could communicate more and more serious things.

But even so, when the next words of the Lord of the Second Legion reached Killiman's ears, he heard a few things wrong.

Maybe we can be more sincere with each other, brother. 】

Seeing that they were getting closer and closer to the fortress of Hera, and that the towering towers and fortress walls had cast a shadow over the sun as far as they could see, the Lord of the Second Legion stopped pulling, and her words were revealed with a polite indifference, making it impossible to find more rejection and dissatisfaction.

[Any complex and fancy language art is nothing more than a lack of understanding of the person being communicated, and a desire to get more chips for yourself before cutting to the real topic, but I don't think such a thing should happen to you and me, right?] 】

"That's right."

Killiman's smile still looked so enthusiastic, he turned his head, glanced at the mortal who had been left behind, and slowly said part of the truth in his heart.

"The kingdom of the two of us is so close together, Morgan, we can be friendly neighbors and lend a helping hand to each other when necessary: just like any two primordials, any two legions would do, but you and I are slightly different from them, and our will will implicate more forces and the world, so you and I should have a proper advance communication between each other for such things."

The Genetic Prototype's pace stopped in front of the majestic gates of Hera's Castle, and the footsteps and eyes of countless people came to a halt in unison with their movements, waiting for any order from the two transcendent kings.

【Cooperative ...... Communicate with? 】

Morgan's words paused for a second, and she was greeted by Killiman's kind smile.

"Yes, cooperation and communication."

"The Great Expedition is such a time, and we and every fellow citizen in the galaxy are destined to have such a future, aren't we?"

Morgan pursed her lips, not answering the question immediately, but scouting Killiman's countenance, eager to find any disguise on the statue of the Perfect Legion that would make her suspicious and sneer.

……

Nothing.

It's like an exploration of his heart: except for some complicated political considerations, he has found nothing at all, and his heart is so clearly spread out to the Spider Queen, writing some sincerity, friendliness, and rationality that are so simple that it is hard to believe, or the satisfaction of the current situation, the expectation of a better future, and the belief in glorious causes.

The Spider Queen blinked, she took it for granted that she had the ability to probe anyone's heart, which had never gone wrong, but the results of this exercise had given her instinctively doubts.

Who can have such a bright and hopeful heart?

Or rather......

Was it a disguise perfect enough to tease her, or was it ridiculous enough to exist...... Honest words, a heart of light?

For a moment, Morgan hesitated and hesitated for a moment, and her proud spiritual exploration told her unmistakably that the blonde-haired Lord of Maculag before her was indeed pouring out his innermost words: he longed for frank cooperation and friendly communication, which, though indeed mixed with some political attempts, was definitely a sincere flame of sincerity.

His heart was unreserved, his protection of his thoughts and desires was as weak as Perturabo's love for his own offspring, and Morgan's probing was like a hot blade cutting through melted butter, and he easily saw the effects of the Lord of Macurag's body and mind, and then his eyes were pierced by those radiant convictions and noble desires, and he could not help but leave bitter tears in his will.

Her probing was so easy, and everything she found was ......

Sincere, rational, harmonious, friendly......

All the good things burned less than two meters away from her, and these flames that were so bright that people could not look at them directly, and they shone like the sun, enough to refine the fire of a walking mortal, enough to make the thoughts of demigods rest in the mildest of physical mortal wombs.

In short: standing in front of her is a normal person, a normal person who is so normal that it is impossible to be normal anymore.

Normal to the point that a normal person who appears not so normal in the genoplasm.

Morgan blinked, and for a moment, she couldn't help but think of the names she had faced before: Magnus, Perturabo, Johnson, and Riemanruth......

So......

Her brothers, in fact, there are normal people? So normal that it makes Morgan feel less normal in the first place?

Is this something that will really exist?

Her genetic father really knows how to create a normal person?

……

Avalonian shock.

Morgan's face contorted slightly, and it took her less than a second to accept the explosive message, but she quickly raised a new question: could all this be a seamless disguise, an innate deceptive power that can master the five hundred worlds of secession kings can rely on?

…… Makes sense, doesn't it?

After all, if he was really a genetic protogen, if he was really a unique hybrid creation fabricated by the Lord of Humanity with extraordinary technology and some inexplicable subspace elements, then how could he be so powerless to explore Morgan's probe, and be able to easily see the deepest part of his heart?

Unless he considered himself a human being, and considered him a Chosen Person who was three or four meters tall, immensely powerful, with a brain like a super-contemplative and the bearing to rule over all nations, a pure human being, a flesh and blood creature with no mystical elements involved......

It shouldn't be so stupid...... Be stubborn.

Morgan thought so, and on the other side of her, the Lord of Maculag blinked in confusion, and after realizing that his blood relatives did not reply to him in the first place, Killiman instinctively began to wonder if there was something wrong with his words.

Too impatient? Too reckless? Or is it a problem he hadn't noticed before?

Killiman pondered along, there was no doubt that his words were sincere, and with the sincere heart of flame and the timely guidance of Lady Judton, the Lord of Maculag, who had taken a short break, easily figured out this simple question: since he could not fully guarantee why his blood relatives would expand their territory so close to Maculag, it would not be a mistake to befriend her first.

If all this was really a pure coincidence, one more friend wouldn't be a bad thing anyway: the Five Hundred Worlds were indeed a little far from the heart of the Empire, and in the midst of the darkness and storms of the galactic frontier, he always needed more allies.

And if Morgan's footsteps symbolize the concerns of Holy Terra or even the Lord of Mankind, then he does not mind showing his attitude by offering cooperation, to show that his kingdom within a kingdom will not interfere with the great cause of the Empire, and he is happy to maintain the independence of Otlama and its connection to the Empire by any means, and the cooperation with Morgan also serves as a good example.

Going deeper, Killiman also considered some more practical issues: his blood relatives might serve as an appropriate channel, a great banner, to show Makulag's obedience to imperial policy, and that cooperating with her would help to break the stereotype of Otlama as a country in the hearts of the people, and that the extreme proximity would not be a long expedition for most of the cooperation, and that the main force of the Ultramarines would not be too far away from Otlama: this last point was the careful thinking of the Lord of Maculag.

Such thoughts converged in Killiman's heart, and grew stronger with the real appearance of his blood relatives before his eyes: the Lord of Maculag felt from the bottom of his heart that his blood relatives would be a rational person, like all her rumors, with a mind sufficient to sustain the greatest war, and it would not be difficult to cooperate and cooperate with such a person to persuade her to accept political considerations.

But now, this was not a purely simple thought, and the setback that accompanied the first overture made Killeman a little nervous, and he kept smiling, looking at Morgan who was carefully observing him in front of him, wondering if he had said something wrong.

Could it be that the sentence [any two primitives, any two legions] made her have some bad speculations? It is said that she served in the Dark Angel for ten years, which makes her overly sensitive to the identity of the original and the independence of the Legion.

Inside, Killeman couldn't help frowning and began to complain that he couldn't take care of his blood relatives, and as the two primordials fell into a kind of stagnation at the same time, finally, their strange behavior was long enough to be discovered and confused by the heirs behind them.

And when dozens of doubtful eyes came together, the two genetic primitives also reacted at the same time, they glanced at each other, and then invariably showed a smile that couldn't be more obvious, and the silent tacit understanding made the two laughs staggered, overturning the uneasiness of everyone present for the first time.

Forgive me, my brother. 】

In the midst of the laughter, Morgan's muffled apology echoed in Killiman's heart.

[Your words are really ...... To put it bluntly, I've never received such direct kindness. 】

Hearing this, Killiman couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief, he was a little curious.

"If I'm not mistaken, Johnson is also a straightforward man."

Have you had a long talk with him? 】

"Nope."

[Then you'll know later: any carnivore is a master of camouflage and stealth.] 】

The two genoplasms looked at each other one more time, and then they laughed again.

"Please, blood relative."

[Thank you, the famous Castle of Hera, I must see it.] 】

——————

At this point, there was still about a Terra standard hour before the lavish dinner Killiman had booked.

In Hera's Castle, high-ranking servants could already be seen back and forth preparing elaborate cutlery and silk, all of which were too fragile, so most of the warriors stayed in the various lounges prepared in advance, waiting for the time of the dinner prepared for the original body.

Only ten Astarte warriors followed their respective primordial bodies and advanced up the deep stairs of Hera's Castle, and Rana was rightfully in that position, with Marshall and Bayard in front of him, and behind him were the two Old Guards he had personally chosen.

With the elaborate workshops and magnificent sculptures left behind them, the Chief Old Guard's mind couldn't help but wander a little, and he began to wonder a question.

What does this Lord of Makurag in front of him want to talk about with his genetic mother?

Originally, Lana would not have cared about this kind of thing, but as his friendship with Hawthorne progressed, he gradually had a vague understanding: as the guard of the original body, he should not just be a simple warrior, he should be ...... Ponder.

And what is more capable of exercising the ability and level of thinking than figuring out the actions of a genetic agent?

Thinking of this, Rana couldn't help but recall something: as Morgan's chief janissary, he witnessed the meeting of the Lord of the Second Legion with two blood relatives.

The Prospero King enthusiastically introduced his home planet to his blood relatives, and although the Queen of Genes refused to let her children follow her all the time, Lana was sure of Magnus's fervent affection for his blood relatives.

As for Perturabo, although he looks a little strange and peculiar, from the breathtaking tower alone, he still attaches great importance and closeness to his blood relatives, at least to the Lord of the Second Legion.

But Killiman......

It's hard to say.

Rana wasn't sure about the ambition's attitude toward blood kinship, and he always wondered what complicated and blasphemous things were going on under the smiling countenance of the Lord of Macurag: it wasn't his prejudice, it was a disguised consensus across the empire.

However, Rana did not fully believe in these consensuses: at the very least, the Lord of Maculag had given his blood relatives a grand welcome ceremony, although the tens of thousands of troops and dozens of divine machines were more like some kind of parade-like show-off, more like a silent show of muscle, telling of the strength of Otrama.

But that doesn't mean anything, does it? After all, he had to see what Killman did next, and then deduce his attitude and thoughts towards the Lord of the Second Legion.

What will this king of the five hundred worlds do? What will he take his blood relatives to visit? Such a sparse retinue, such an urgent pace, must have been something that Gilliman was quite concerned about.

Is it like Magnus, showing off what he governs like his home planet? Or, like Perturabo, prepared a rare and visible spectacle for his blood relatives?

What did Guilleman care about in his incomprehensible heart?

Lana's confusion was so exuberant that he quickly got an answer.

The Lord of Maculag activated the layers of defenses and shields, and led the group to the depths of Hera's Castle, where there was a well-guarded room, and the room was empty, except for a star map large enough to be used as a sand table, attracting everyone's attention in the intertwined lights.

Lana could see at a glance that this was the detailed star map of the Five Hundred Worlds and the Avalon Star Region, as well as the many nearby celestial regions, and he could clearly see the maelstrom and Damocles Bay on both sides of the star map, and the signals that marked the various worlds under Morgan's command were so standard that Lana couldn't help but leave a little cold sweat.

And by this time, everyone heard Killiman's words.

Everyone heard: the Lord of Macurag, the first request he made to his first silver-haired blood relative, the first invitation he sent.

"Morgan, my blood relative."

Killeman smiled, and he pointed to a spot on the star map: it was the buffer zone between Morgan's land and the Five Hundred Worlds, bordering Damocles Bay, and on the other side were countless chaotic stars that had not yet belonged.

The voice of the Lord of Maculag echoed clearly in the ears of everyone.

"Before we get everything started, my dear blood relative, as I said to you before, you and I are each the rulers of the Empire's appointed side, and any one of our conversations has the potential to cause unnecessary confusion, especially since our areas of administration are still ambiguous and do not know each other well, and if we rashly blend private emotions with actual events, it will not do us any more good."

"Therefore, in the name of the obligations of the Primordial and the Lord of the Legion, before we engage in further detailed dialogue and negotiation, we should familiarize ourselves with each other and know the bottom line of our hearts, and start the conversation within an appropriate range, avoiding the contradictions and mistakes that will arise in the conversation."

"And the biggest contradiction and mistake is now in front of us: as figures who guard the remote frontiers of the empire, the scope of our responsibilities is still blurred, which is completely detrimental to future cooperation and communication."

"Let's fix this."

"Before we get started, let's make a clear picture of each other, our respective responsibilities and our psychological expectations for the future, and explain the areas we manage."

……

……

……

Rana clenched his fists tightly.

He......

He!

How dare he!

This ruthless tyrant! This ambitious separatist! Is this his attitude towards the blood relatives he met for the first time? Was that the first thing he wanted to say officially to his sisters! Was that the first thing that came to his mind after seeing his loved ones?

Desecrate!

Arrogant!

Ambitious!

Really...... Sure enough, there is nothing wrong with the rumors!

Rana gritted his teeth, he didn't see his original face, but when he saw the natural expression on the faces of the children of Killiman, he only felt a different kind of sadness and jealousy.

Sure enough......

Macurag.

A country within a state.

(End of chapter)