"Why do we have to change our clothes specifically for a meal?"

[Because no one will wear power armor to a dinner party.] 】

"That's what I used to do."

[Were you a human before?] 】

“……”

Conrad felt that Morgan's words made sense: like her slowly clenched fist against Conrad's chest, it had the power to move people's hearts and make it impossible for him to refute.

[Take your things, remember that the bag on the right is fragile, don't bump into it.] 】

The meekness from the Midnight Ghost put the Spider Queen in a good mood, and she quickly took care of the trivial matters at hand: the inconsequential remnants were handed over to Rana and the Legion Council, the collection of various data and information was taken over by Virgo and Ophiuchus, and as for the mortal auxiliaries, after getting Morgan's approval, they had an effective management system of their own.

The queen of Avalon is an insecure politician, but she is not obsessed with holding all the power in her hands, and Morgan is well aware that the right political system and proper decentralization are the long-term way to keep her rule alive.

Another benefit of this idea of decentralization is that with the right management, the Spider Queen can still have a lot of personal time instead of being exhausted by heavy repetitive labor, for example, now, if she wants, she can take Conrad to the Indomitable Truth for a genetic-style family feast attended by only the children of the four emperors.

Considering the fact that the Astarte legions are so long distances and how pathetic the gap is between the sons of the Lord of Humanity, this kind of bro feast, which sounds like this gathering a few genetic protogens, is actually a very rare treasure: looking at the entire Great Expedition, such a banquet may have occurred about ten times.

This involves a very ridiculous-sounding reason: although the progenitors are all the emperor's heirs, and their interactions with each other are not insignificant, in fact, with the exception of those who are very close friends, most of the progenitors probably do not meet each other more than ten times in their lifetime.

Just like Morgan and Killiman: although the Lord of the Second Legion did not return until more than seventy years after the start of the Great Expedition, and fifteen Primordials had returned to the Empire before her, the Spider Empress was the first to visit the Makurag Genetium, for reasons such as distance and ambition, but it also vividly illustrated that when the Emperor's heirs did not interact much, the brotherhood between them should come more from the biological coding in the bloodline genes.

But even so, the Spider Queen still has a lot of enthusiasm for this party, after all, it will be a good relaxation, and for Conrad, this party is a good time to exercise his social skills.

Although Midnight Ghost's social abilities were nothing more than a corpse forcibly crushed by the Spider Queen in the emergency ward: if it weren't for Morgan's efforts, Conrad would have happily stuffed it into the morgue.

[Do you really just want to wear a black robe, Conrad, at least add a cloak or something, right?] 】

In the face of the blood relative's inquiry, the Midnight Wraith only grinned extremely reluctantly.

"That's enough, Morgan: if I were to dress up like the son of an emperor of Cermos, Johnson would have thought I was going to have a knightly duel with him."

Morgan smiled contemptuously.

[Your current outfit doesn't look like a gladiator, but like a tenant with a pitchfork: you know, those knights like to recruit cannon fodder. 】

"Pitchfork can also stab a knight to death, do you want me to change my name to Jan-Hus?"

Midnight Wraith retorted mercilessly, he possessed this ability, after all, history was a highly regarded subject in Morgan's education program for Conrad, and the Spider Queen firmly believed that if you read the history that happened in the past, you would naturally understand a lot of the present.

Conrad, on the other hand, lived up to expectations and fulfilled his Nostramo method of learning: he prioritized what he had learned in the great art of ridicule and sarcasm.

After a few more lazy words, Morgan straightened his collar after finishing the assignment at hand, and after checking her for the last time, he picked up a few bags and walked out of her throne.

Midnight Ghost silently followed behind his carrion blood, his eyes looking up and down what Morgan was wearing: the Spider Queen had also removed her armor and searched for answers in her closet that had not been opened in a long time, and in the end, Morgan chose a classic solution.

A white women's sweater paired with black trousers, and a two-breasted, khaki long women's trench coat, she chose not the usual boots made of plastic steel and fine gold, but another pair of boots sewn from unknown animal skins, which sounded lighter and sharper on the floor.

[This is what I used to dress when I worked in the Dark Angel Legion, when I was a mediocre Primordial Mortal Advisor, working diligently every day, receiving a salary that was neither high nor low: but that salary, Johnson never paid me back. 】

[Black-hearted Caliban boss.] 】

Midnight Ghost recalls Morgan's words in the mindset of listening to a comic comedy, and he is surprised to find that he has experienced a kind of "beauty" in Morgan at this moment, which is an extremely rare feeling for him.

In Conrad's memory, the last thing that made him feel beautiful seemed to be the human skin coat he hung on the spire of the Nostramo Nest, a work of art he had sewn with his own hands, and Midnight Ghost would be proud of it even now.

Still, don't let his carrion blood relatives know that he compares her to the work of art: it would kill you.

While the Midnight Wraith was thinking, the Spider Queen, who had walked into an open area, whispered a few words casually, and called out a light blue transmission circle: this circle was set up by Morgan before the war began, and it would lead straight to the deck of the Indomitable Truth.

The figures of the two genetic prototypes quickly disappeared into the shimmering waves like a lake, and when their pupils recovered from the flash of bright light, the two were already standing in the core area of the Dark Angel Legion, and the long-awaited sons of Johnson were saluting them.

The Terra veterans, who didn't seem to be surprised in the slightest by the mortal costume worn by the Lord of the Second Legion, moved out of the way to the depths of the battleship, and at the end of the corridor, a rugged shadow seemed to be waiting for them.

"Hey! You're here! ”

It was Riemannus, the actual initiator of the banquet: after Morgan's departure, he spent almost a dozen hours of tirade and vows to successfully convince Johnson to hold a [celebration banquet] on the latter's Glory Queen-class battleship.

Originally, with Johnson's character, he would never agree to this useless and absurd idea, but he couldn't bear Riemanlus's repeated requests to mess with nonsense, and finally, with each taking a step back, a feast that the wolf king had envisioned for everyone to carnival together was compressed into a drink between several genetic protogens.

But even so, Riemanrus still sees it as his great victory: who else in the galaxy can get the Calibans to prepare a feast for themselves, except for him, the great son of the whole father?

It's a victory for Fenris! A victory comparable to the Randan War!

"Hmm...... You brought a bunch of bags and I smelled a nice smell from them. ”

Carrying the pleasure of a victor, the Wolf King twitched his sensitive nose, his gaze lingering on Morgan's clothes for a second, and then releasing enough kindness at the Midnight Ghost to continue the conversation about food.

"What's in this? A surprise? ”

[Not really.] 】

Morgan held up the bag in his hand.

[Fresh oysters from the pristine shores of Avalon, marvals and chestnut cakes made by the best pastry chefs, and for Conrad, Glocks meat, Agas fish, apple peach, baguettes and Avalon's 100-year-old Crimson Queen.] 】

"Hmmm......"

"You know life better than I thought."

Riemanruth's words and expression were so serious, and then, he pointed behind him: there were several space wolf warriors carrying heavy cargo.

"I brought five of the strongest howling cows in the whole Fenris, all of which I caught and cooked with my own hands, and the meat was big enough for me to ...... Ahem, I mean, we're all full. ”

"Of course, there is also the best honey wine in the whole Fenris, this is the latest product I have developed and concocted myself, extracted directly from the acidic blood of the Fenris Ice Demon, and there will be no stronger wine in the whole galaxy."

【…… Experimental? 】

Morgan frowned slightly.

"Peace of mind."

Riemanrus laughed.

"I have more than 20 cubs who have tasted this new type of honey wine, but they have drunk 17 poisoned, and none of them have died, which is very safe, and they all give very high reviews."

【……】

“……”

"I think we can ask for one thing: as a creative source for new torture instruments."

Through the psionic connection between the siblings, Conrad quietly reminded him, and when he heard this, the Spider Empress glanced at him and did not speak.

And in front of the two genetic prototypes, the wolf king of Fenris is still amazed while leading the way.

"I thought I was the only one who would bring these banquet ingredients, after all, I knew Johnson guy too well, and even if he pulled out a bunch of amino cereal porridge and canned military rations to send us away, I wouldn't be the slightest surprised: no, I didn't expect you, Morgan, to have the same opinion as me."

"What does the old Terragu saying say: Heroes see the same thing!"

【……】

The Spider Empress smiled reluctantly, to hide the roll of her eyes.

The fart is slightly the same.

The only reason she would bring her own ingredients was that as a former top worker of the Dark Angel Legion, she knew too well what was being served in the kitchen of the Indomitable Truth, and amino cereal porridge and corpse starch were among the delicacies.

Morgan remembers by now that the most delicious pastry in the First Legion's back kitchen would be enough to pierce any form of Terminator A if it were to be stuffed into a cannonball: a certain genogen proudly confessed to her.

Whenever he watched the Dark Angels stuff that lump into their mouths without changing their faces, Morgan would wonder if her Caliban blood relatives were Iron Men with a legion, or if they were space necros.

Thinking of this, the Spider Empress didn't even have the mockery she stayed at the corners of her mouth.

[After all, we all know that Ruth, that is Johnson, according to the cultural classification on Guterra, is a standard Albion, or rather, English: if he does prepare a large feast, then we had better turn around and flee for our lives now.] 】

"That's dangerous."

Riemanruth laughed, and the three protogens ended their conversation, as Coswayne's figure had already appeared on the other side of the hallway: apparently, the Lion King had taken them to their seats.

Led by the Dark Angel, who was most highly regarded by the Lion King, they passed through a corridor that was not very long, and headed towards the area at the top of the entire warship: even Morgen herself knew very little about this generation, and she could only roughly feel that this place seemed to be more like the [private space] of the Lord of Caliban.

And beside her, the Midnight Spirit's inquiries were overwhelmed.

"Morgan."

Conrad lowered his voice and lifted the paper bag in his arms.

"Why are you carrying these breads?"

"I don't see how precious they are: you might as well bring more apples and peaches."

The baguette is reserved for you, Conrad. 】

"Give it to me?"

[Yes, when you have dinner later, if you have nothing to do, or if you are full, or you can't help but want to make trouble, take a baguette and squat there and grind your teeth: I don't care what you do at home, you have to be polite to me outside, understand?] 】

“…… Can't I leave the table? ”

[If your biological age were only three years old, I wouldn't mind letting you go out after eating, but not now, this is the Indomitable Truth, and something will really happen if you wander around: don't think that the Astartes of the whole empire are as calm as my heirs. 】

“……”

Conrad muttered a few words in a whisper that Morgan didn't hear, and by this time they had reached their final destination: Riemanrus approached the door with a smile on his face, and before he pushed it open, he smiled at the two blood relatives behind him.

"I hope Johnson has a barbecue party for us."

[I hope so.] 】

Morgan agrees: after all, this is probably the only culinary art that won't be messed up by Johnson.

Encouraging, the wolf king pushed the door open, and the scorching darkness, the leaping firelight, and the crackling of firewood swept over the next moment, even faster than the cold breath that remained at the edge of the room.

"Wow!"

Riemanrus was overjoyed, and he screamed in a strange voice.

"This guy is not stupid."

To the merry laughter of the Fenris, the Spider Queen only raised her head slightly, and she looked at the dome of the mysterious room, which was pitch black and transparent, and the bronze skeleton was dotted with ancient portholes, keeping thousands of shining stars out of the progenital's reach.

Under the stars, the Caliban was fiddling with the fire in a bored manner, and at his side were neatly arranged large chunks of fresh meat, the scarlet veins and the slightest hint of cold breath coming from all sorts of beasts that Morgan knew and didn't know, and Riemanruth's loud praise showed their value.

The Lord of Caliban sat in the midst of the nets of the stars and the dark hall, and the marble floor was neat under his feet, but in the light of the vigorous bonfire, it was like the damp land at the foot of the endless forests of his home planet, and the darkness bred in such a land was naturally a mountain forest in the night sky.

Johnson sat in the forest, leaning against his campfire, his emerald pupils illuminated by the firelight, revealing a glow that only wild beasts possess, and the black armor was still worn on his body, but it was not obtrusive for a hunter.

When the voice of the wolf king came, the hunter of Caliban, the victor of the great battle, raised his head with hindsight and looked at his guests and relatives.

He smiled.

Very indifferent, but also very real.

(End of chapter)