Luthor docked his flagship in Caliban's low-Earth orbit, the massive shadow of the battleship facing the spire of the Legion's Abbey, announcing the return of the proud son to the entire world of the dead.

Everything went a lot smoother than he expected: Luthor couldn't help but sigh at the thought of this, both with emotion and with lament for what he was looking for.

Forty years have passed since the former Caliban knight left his home planet: forty years from the return of Johnson, the forty-eighth year after the beginning of the Great Expedition, to the present, the eighty-seventh year after the beginning of the Great Expedition, exactly forty years.

Forty years is half a life for most mortals, enough to carry countless joys, sorrows, and sorrows, but for Luther, these forty years are like a book in a hurry, and before he can read it carefully, he has already turned to the last page.

Forty years ago, Luthor seemed no different from Luthor now: except for the more robust body now, and the changed ...... in front of him

Caliban.

“……”

Standing on his bridge, Luthor sighed again, as if he were an old man attending the funeral of a friend, lonely and lamenting the cruelty of time.

Luthor remembers the first time he saw Caliban: he and thousands of knights of the Grand Order of Caliban, following Johnson's footsteps, stepped aboard the ships of the Human Empire, eager to become an Astarte warrior and continue their hunting journey.

Before that disastrous physical fitness test, Luthor had taken the opportunity to glance at the Caliban, who was shrouded in the fleet: his cruel and beautiful homeland was like a green opal hidden in the darkness, exuding a deadly and noble smile, and the forests all over the world were constantly swaying regularly under the caress of the sun and mist, so that the whole world was filled with life and tenacity.

It was the first time Luthor had looked at his hometown in the void, and even though he was separated by a distance that could never be crossed, he could still feel the sound of the wind and leaves in the Caliban forest in the coldness of the void, and feel the enthusiasm and encouragement of those ancient honors and heroic legends as he touched his heart.

He and countless Caliban, inspired by their homeland, broke into the war-torn galaxy and the great hell opened by the Lord of Mankind, and after they left, their primitive and beautiful homeland Caliban, with a large number of Terra officials stationed, began to transform into a standard [Imperial World].

When he first heard this, Luthor never thought there would be any problem.

Forty years later, he had returned to his homeland, to the place where he had first spied the whole picture of Caliban: no longer a hurried pass, no longer a dull neglect of documents and orders, and that while Luthor was preparing for the landing ceremony, he stood on his bridge, looking at his homeland as a homeward wanderer.

A hometown full of holes.

“……”

The old knight's pupils twitched unconsciously, and his countenance stiffened with instinctive distortion and exerted control, his fists clenched and creaked: neither the heavy duties nor the words of Morgan or Johnson had ever made Luthor so out of shape, but Caliban could.

Just a glance is enough.

Where he had been, Luthor saw everything clearly: he saw what had once been a magnificent opal, now as a veteran of the vicissitudes of life, decaying and withering, and the forests that spanned the continent were disappearing at a visible rate, replaced by the bare yellow surface and the factories and nests that had sprung up from the ground.

The fog that once surrounded the world like a gauze skirt is now being swallowed up and expelled by billowing industrial exhaust fumes, and even a few obvious traces of flame burn can be seen in the void, telling of the terrible atrocities that have befallen their beautiful homeland.

The rumors didn't lie, and the Terra officials were diligent in their mission: to pull the Caliban out of its former primitiveness and simplicity, and make it an arsenal worthy of the name of the Legion's home planet, a perfect screw in the service of the Great Expedition, indistinguishable from countless industrial towns.

One! Normal! World of Empires!

“……”

Luthor's big hand slowly covered his cheek: he couldn't bear to look at it anymore, he couldn't bear to see the beautiful dreams of the past become the terrible reality of today, but he didn't know what to say or do.

Luthor knew that he couldn't blame the Terra officials who had caused all this tragedy, because they were just carrying out an order, an order that could not have been simpler, from the Empire, and allowed by Johnson.

Johnson allowed all of this, and over the past forty years, the genogen has not witnessed the changes in Caliban, but he remains indifferent.

What could Luthor say?

What could he do in the presence of Johnson's authority, in the urgency of the Great Expedition, in the Emperor's orders, in the face of the honor of Caliban?

He couldn't do anything.

The old knight realized this, which undoubtedly pained him, and instead of staying on the bridge any longer, he walked back to his office in some despair, and instinctively responded with salutes and greetings along the way: no matter what storm he had in his heart, in the eyes of the outside world, he was Johnson's plenipotentiary representative, a big man enough to shock Caliban.

In the comical state of mind brought about by this contradiction, Luthor dealt with the remaining official documents with great care: the task given to Johnson was not easy, but it was not too difficult, the target of 10,000 people and the three-month deadline were indeed terrifying, but considering that the genetic prototypes had begun training recruits on the Caliban as early as the end of the Second Randan War, and the scattered warriors who were converging from all over the galaxy, their numbers were enough to meet Johnson's requirements.

What Luthor really has to do is to build a chain of command that can work, so that [10,000 Dark Angel Warriors] will become [10,000 Dark Angel Army], after all, Johnson doesn't have time to take care of such trivial things on the front line.

But despite this, the task was still very important and daunting: when Luthor began to dive into it, the countless statistics and the current situation of the Caliban quickly took up all his thinking space, forcing him to deal with some unimportant situations simply and rudely.

For example, a data note from the Lord of Avalon.

"Request to open the library storage room in the Legion Abbey......"

This brief message from Morgan took up a second of Luthor's thinking time, and he almost didn't think about it, and gave it through: although he was curious why Morgan sent such a request, whether it was Johnson and the Dark Angel's trust in Morgan, or Luther's opinion of the Lord of the Second Legion, the old knight could not find a reason to hesitate.

But......

Books in the monastery?

Is there anything important there?

“……”

Luthor couldn't think of it.

Maybe he forgot.

——————

[After all, for secrets, forgetting is the best way to hide. 】

My brother clearly knows this. 】

Walking in the depths of the Legion Monastery of the Dark Angels, looking at the libraries that were no more different from the meditation room, the Lord of Avalon couldn't help but be amazed, she snapped her fingers, and fluttered past thousands of bookshelves that smelled of ancient sunken wood, all the way to the forbidden areas hidden in the darkness.

After knocking on the secret doors, dodging the mechanisms, and entering the code that Johnson had told her personally, the Spider Queen finally got what she was looking for: a row of bookshelves hidden in the deepest part of the forbidden section, the books on which they were invariably nameless, wrapped in unknown brown covers, and even smelled blood.

Morgan pulled out a copy, she saw only a simple logo on the cover, and recognized that this sign belonged to the [Knights of Sirius], one of the many knights of the former Caliban, because of his resolute opposition to Johnson's plan to strangle all the Caliban behemoths, and was completely annihilated by the other knights led by the genetic prototype: all this was also told to her by Johnson.

Interestingly, however, it is said that Johnson, after reading the collection of Sirius Knights, the books in front of Morgan, not only sealed them up, but also forgave some of the fugitive Sirius Knights: Considering the mysterious origins of the current Seifer Lord, the Spider Queen easily connected everything.

Apparently, the Sirius Knights had been guarding a true but undisclosed secret, and in a catastrophic misunderstanding that resulted from it, they were strangled by Johnson, and the Lord of Caliban, knowing the secret, reconciled with the remaining Sirius Knights, appointing him as the current Lord of Seifer.

Considering that Lord Seifer has a very close relationship with these robed villains known as the Black Warden, and even shows a posture of obedience, then presumably these robed villains also know this secret, and even more, they are the main force guarding this secret.

And this secret, obviously, is one of the three artifacts of the subspace that was imprisoned in Caliban: Ouroboros.

Morgan flipped through the books as he constructed a chain of logic in his mind, and beneath her feet, the little man in the robe who had been following her silently surrounded uneasily by her steel boots, looking like he wanted to help, but he didn't know where to start.

“……”

The little man in the robe raised his hands and covered his head as if he were thinking, and after a short moment it suddenly disappeared in place, and quickly reappeared, and in a moment it was connected to an unusually bright oil lamp at the top of a wide cuff.

It looked around, finally choosing the shelf containing the books of the Knights of Sirius, ran over with the lamp, and like a diligent koala, climbed to the top of the bookshelf: it was the only place it could reach, a little higher than the Spider Queen.

Then, it raised the lantern, and the bright light raised the head of Morgan, who had been reading in the dark: although such a change in brightness had no effect on a genetic protogen's vision, Morgan was still able to read some information about her from this seemingly meaningless act.

For example: this exit is a robe villain with riddles, maybe not as complicated as she thinks?

The Spider Queen's pupils moved, she lowered her head, and focused on the books, which recorded the secrets of Caliban, which were the most important things now.

Perhaps because of the nature of the world, the books of these knights are often obscure and full of meaningless riddles and references, and the information is often pitifully scarce and inconsistent: as if they were the inner ring of a dark angel, the image of an outsider.

But after spending some time, Morgan managed to find the information that was used to her again, hidden in the most mundane corners, pointing to the most distant past.

She connected them together, and looked at the black watchman who was sitting on the bookshelf, carrying a lamp, and the hem of his robe swaying as if he were shaking his legs.

[To put it simply: you guys are the jailers guarding the Ouroboros, and you don't want it to escape, or combine with the other two subspace artifacts?] 】

The robed little man nodded.

[But on the other hand, with the passage of time, the Ouroboros is constantly impacting its seal, and the power of the subspace is gradually spreading on the Caliban, you can't resist the power of the Ouroboros, so you can only turn to foreign help: For example, I came here? 】

Nodding again.

[So, although we disagree on the Ouroboros, you see me as an ally against Ouroboros in a sense?] 】

As soon as she finished speaking, the robed villain looked directly at Morgan: although the Spider Queen still couldn't see the scene under the hood, she could still feel a pair of shiny eyes of expectation.

To this, the genogen responded with a merciless sneer.

[Forgive me for not agreeing, little one: even if I help you settle the Ouroboros, you won't let me take it, and I don't think I'll have any benefit in this deal.] 】

[Or have you ever expressed any goodwill to me for your cooperation?] 】

“……”

The robed little man tilted his head, and when he heard the word "goodwill", he instinctively raised his lantern and shook it, and the scattered light seemed to remind a certain genetic protogen, the existence of goodwill.

【……】

[Your kindness is too small. 】

“……”

The robed figure lowered its head, and a certain breath of loss floated out of its shadows.

Instead, it was the genetic protogen, and after reading every book about the Sirius Knights, he was thinking about his next plan as he reminisced about the contents, and his high-spirited emotions flowed through his blue pupils.

She rolled her eyes.

[However, we may sit down and talk about why you are obsessed with imprisoning Ouroboros, as you may feel that neither the Tuchucha Engine nor the Plague Heart are with me, and I have not met any caretaker associated with them. 】

[Or: Why does the convergence of these three subspace artifacts make you uneasy? 】

Ulterior motives were poured into the air, and the low temperature of the forbidden area made the words rise into a white mist, reflected in the playful pupils of the original genogen.

She watched the reaction of the robed villain.

As she watched, the strange creature became serious at the question, and it withdrew its lantern and crossed its hands in its sleeves, and the uncharacteristic voice reached Morgan's ears directly from the sea of souls, as it had always been.

"According to ancient legends, the dark angels spread their wings and descended on ......"

[Stop! 】

The Spider Empress raised a finger, a hint of displeasure flashing across her face.

[To be clear: tell me in a normal human voice, don't tell me you don't know how humans talk, if you can't, I'll go find the Ouroboros myself.] 】

“……”

Obviously, the robed little man had never thought of this abrupt situation, and its entire body paused for a second, like a tin soldier doll with rusty joints, staggering back to its movements: it lowered its head and began to think.

Morgan ignored the little guy and lowered his head and continued to flip through the book, waiting for a clear and coherent explanation.

She waited, waited, waited......

【……】

Until even the genoplasm felt that this time was a bit too long.

When Morgan raised her head again with confusion, she saw the robe figure very clearly: the mysterious creature who opened his mouth was now looking down in distress, and his hood was shrugged, as if to show the depression in his heart, and the two wide cuffs were entangled together, rubbing constantly, reminding Morgan of the mortal children she had seen on Avalon playing with their thumbs in distress.

The Spider Queen blinked.

Isn't she just trying to make the other party clear and understandable, is it so difficult?

When she gave Lana the more outrageous tasks, her Praetorian Guard was able to do it well: even every Daybreaker did it well.

Momentary doubts surged in the Spider Queen's heart, but when she remembered the speech performance of the robed villain in front of her, and looked at its current state, a somewhat bold but logical idea gradually took shape in Morgan's quick reasoning.

[Tell me, little one.] 】

[Do you only talk riddles? 】

“……”

The genogen curled the corners of her lips: the robed villain didn't answer her, but the momentary chaos was the best answer.

[Why don't you tell me why?] 】

A bad thought that had been suppressed for too long at this moment, surged back into the heart of the genetic protogen, and the smile on the corner of Morgan's mouth was terrible enough to make Astarte go into cardiopulmonary arrest, and she snapped her fingers and interrupted the spatial teleportation of the robed villain in the panic.

After witnessing this strange teleportation a few times, although Morgan still hadn't figured out the principle, it was still okay to use his psionic power to interfere a little.

The robed figure froze in place, looking at the approaching genetic primordial, shrouded in the ill-intentioned shadow of the Spider Queen, stiffened for a moment, then bent its knees into a trembling sphere.

Hold your head and squat.

——————

Of course, the good-hearted Lord of Avalon would not embarrass the poor little fellow: although it was an alien who could not die well, when Morgan found that she could not feel the breath and shadow beneath the robe, her hostility towards the robe villain left the highest level and reached a barely tolerable class.

She named this class the Tarracin Class, and the most hostile class the Comoros Class, to show that she had never forgotten the Yemenga Monument and what happened there.

“……”

In front of the Spider Queen, the robed figure who had just been promoted to the [Tarasin Class] had been removed from the top of the bookshelf and placed in front of Morgan, while the Lord of the Second Legion crouched down to make sure that his eyes and face were as close to it as possible.

In the midst of this tremendous pressure and persuasion of words, this peculiar creature finally began to answer Morgan's question: as Genogen said, it was just a personal matter, and there was no real interest for both parties.

So, tell me, why do you keep telling riddles? 】

"Because...... Be responsible for guiding ...... Humans on the Kaliban, say too clearly...... Prone to problems...... To put it vaguely......"

[To be vague, let the Calibans guess the riddles themselves, if things go well, it will be your guidance, and if things don't go well, the Calibans will figure out the wrong meaning? 】

“……”

The villain nodded.

【…… Quaint but effective method. 】

Morgan laughed, but her brain was running at breakneck speed: from previous conversations with the Black Watchmen, the Genoplasma knew that they had the ability to perceive the future, which must have given them the courage to guide the Calibans and gain respect.

But now it seems that the Black Watchmen's ability to detect the future may not be able to see the complete future, or rather, they can see a lot of futures, but they can't know which one will happen, so they need to use these riddles to cover up the lack of ability.

In other words, the Black Wardens didn't stop her from taking Ouroboros because of a bad future.

Morgan thought so, and he had a little more confidence in his heart.

But then again.

In this way, Conrad's prophetic abilities are unusually strong: not only can he see a near-complete future, he can't make mistakes in the general direction, and he can even empathize.

Well......

Worthy of her younger brother.

Strange pride has increased!

Morgan laughed, holding out one of her fingers and gently stroking the brim of the robe figure's hood.

[If you are so bad at communicating with other people, then why were you chosen by your companions as a representative to communicate with me?] 】

[Are you being excluded? 】

“……”

Shook his head.

[Why is that?] 】

"Because ......"

The robed figure lowered his head, looking ashamed.

"Because I'm in charge...... Diplomatic ......"

【……】

[You are still in charge of diplomatic work? 】

The contemptuous laughter didn't distract the strange creature's anger, it only made it fall to its knees again, like a mass of mushrooms growing silently in the corner.

The senior asked...... Whether or not to be responsible for diplomatic ......"

[You didn't refuse? 】

“…… Can't say ......."

【……】

[Because he couldn't speak, he became a diplomat, and he had to be responsible for guiding those Caliban, and he practiced the appearance that he couldn't speak without telling riddles? 】

“……”

Hold your head and squat again.

Morgan laughed, her laughter a mixture of pleasant and vicious, and as she slowly got up, it spread throughout the room, wandering through the dark forbidden book section, enough to support a horrible ghost story.

The Spider Queen tucked the books back into her shelves, she had received enough knowledge and references to support her activities in Caliban.

First of all......

Morgan bent down, easily picking up the robed figure that was sinking into the ground and smiling at it.

[I hate red tape. 】

[In that case: I beg you to gather your fellow citizens. 】

Let's go find Ouroboros. 】

(End of chapter)