Ⅰ

My name is C, and I'm a member of the ancient and mighty Dawnbreaker Legion, currently part of the Third Company of the Cortez Company Commander: this year marks my 145th year of service with this legion, so I'm a veteran.

Of course, I'm not sure if I'm a veteran or not, after all, my impression of the first military operation I participated in was inevitably a bit shabby: we followed the Lord of Humanity to raze a place called the Thunderstone Church, and this resume seemed a bit unremarkable in the Legion.

However, I don't really care about these false names: as a Terra-born warrior, I've seen so much, from the unification wars to the glory of the Great Expedition, from the conquest of the moon to the return of the emperors' heirs, I have seen first-hand how the existence of the Empire of Man was forged with blood and war, and now, I am happy to sit in its shadow and become a member of the ordinary people.

Now, like most of my old buddies, I'm in a state of semi-retirement, and those things about glory, status, and power are left to the recruits who have only served for more than a hundred years.

I'm just an ordinary Dawnbreaker veteran: an unremarkable veteran who has witnessed the battle of the Thunder Warriors, the grandeur of the Double-Headed Eagle's conquest of Mars, and the reunion of Horus and the Emperor.

In the Legion of the Dawnbreakers, my experience is nothing.

Ⅱ

Today's [Dawning Goddess], the weather is very good.

Sunny, with a maximum temperature of 25 degrees Celsius and a minimum temperature of 21 degrees Celsius, the subspace breeze blowing from the engine room is two to three degrees, and there is a conrad in some areas.

Overall, it is a good weather suitable for indoor sports and weddings and funerals.

And at the beginning of this beautiful day, Company Commander Cortez approached me and stuffed two newcomers into my hands: in the name of the great genetic mother, I actually didn't want these two cubs who had only been serving for decades, but there was no way, the shortage of manpower was an objective time.

After all, even an old fellow like me, who doesn't care about the world, knows that the Dawnbreaker Legion is in a very awkward situation right now: on the one hand, the Primordial Lord's continuous cultivation of the Legion's affairs has begun to bear fruit, and the Second Legion is now flourishing in all fields, but on the other hand, it ......

This means that we are even more short of people.

It was under these circumstances that the squad I had led disintegrated: all four of my old buddies, except for me, as the captain, were promoted to squad leaders of the new company, bringing new recruits and new blood, and a team that had been fighting side by side for fifty years disappeared in this way.

It's helpless, but I can't help it.

But even then, I don't want to send new blood so casually.

After all, this team I'm in is a [Durahan].

Ⅲ

Durahan refers to the Destroyer squad of the Legion of the Daybreakers, a nickname that is said to come from the ancient Celtic mythology of Holy Terra, and has a more well-known derivative name: the Headless Horseman.

As members of Durrahand, we will only appear on the most desperate, terrible, and least pitiful battlefields, and our presence often means only one thing: our great genetic mother has lost all patience.

All along, no matter who our opponents were, they would have ended up in the most miserable: but I believe that those Primordial Adults who were able to make us merciful would have lost their patience and would be innocent.

After all, as the Destroyer squad of the Legion, our greatest fear is not that we will appear on those terrible battlefields, but that our bodhisattva's heart-bound genetic protogens will be soft-hearted and will be drilled by those contemptible enemies: this kind of thing may sound ridiculous, but it is actually not ridiculous at all.

Those fighting brothers from other legions, such as the Iron Champion or the Shadowmoon Wolf, have laughed at us for this, but no Daybreaker will be angry with them: after all, they don't even have their own genetic mother, so how can they understand our heartfelt concerns?

Ultramarines, on the other hand, have a subtle empathy for us in this regard, though their empathy is somewhat strange: the affection shown by the children of Killiman is somewhat ...... than our fervent embrace of our mother

Old?

Ⅳ

However, if you strip away these indifferent parts, [Durahan] is definitely one of the most formidable forces in the entire Dawnbreaker Legion, and I have absolute confidence in that.

After all, more than a hundred years ago, our partners and rivals were the Dread Wings in the Dark Angel Legion, and even the Murderers in the Terror Wing, and now, our Mother of Genes is also reorganizing us who hold the power of destruction based on what she has seen and heard in the Dark Angels in the past.

It is still unknown who is stronger between us Durrahan Destroyers and Dreadwings, but one thing is certain, and that is that we [Durrahhan] are healthier: after all, in the first year of Mother Genes' return to the Legion, she stopped all use of Radiation Weapons in the Legion.

This order was once rejected by the Legion Council: although those combat brothers who use [Radiation Weapons] often have to face the fate of bionic transformation or being buried in Dreadnought after decades of fighting, the combat effectiveness of [Radiation Weapons] itself is also something that the Legion cannot abandon.

However, after the Legion Council and we, the Destroyer Squad, joined hands and opposed the demands of the Primordial Lord three times in a row.

She was furious.

Ⅴ

She's so scary when she starts a fire.

Ⅵ

So, we had to reluctantly give all the radiation weapons to the Iron Warrior visitors for free.

Perturabo's descendants were impressed: most of them said it was the first gift they had received since becoming Astarte warriors, and that it was so practical and reliable.

……

Seriously, the joy on their faces even made me feel a little guilty.

Ⅶ

In giving my radiation weapons to the Iron Warrior who had fought alongside me, in a state of mind that I couldn't explain myself, I whispered to him about the dangers of these weapons, and how he reacted......

"Decades?"

He froze for a moment, then smiled so calmly that I was surprised.

"It's okay, friend: I shouldn't live that long."

Ⅷ

……

There are no words to describe how I felt at that time.

Ⅸ

And after this emotionally complicated conversation, perhaps out of curiosity, the Iron Warrior asked me why he wanted to shoot these radiation weapons.

I didn't hide it from him, I told him everything: in fact, the matter itself is not complicated, but it is our genetic mother who puts our health above the pursuit of victory and glory.

Frankly, as an Astarte warrior, I don't think this thinking is very correct, even a little negative: if our lives are more important than victory, then why are we called warriors?

But I can't disobey her: who called her the mother of our genes?

I poured out these small complaints to my Iron Warrior friend, and I noticed that the way he looked at me became a little more complicated: there was emotion in it, but there was also something inexplicable about it.

How so......

I remember looking at Lord Ahriman in the arena with that kind of gaze.

……

It's really confusing.

Ⅹ

Overall, my Iron Warrior friend and I got along fairly well, and he said goodbye to me in a thoughtful state.

When we met the next day, I noticed that something was wrong, because his gray power armor seemed to glow with some strange silver light.

This is undoubtedly a very clever painting technique: when he is in the Iron Warrior queue, he looks no different from other Iron Warriors, but when he is in the Dawnbreaker queue, he looks like a somewhat special Daybreaker.

He told me that this was the result of internal deliberations among the Fourth Legion delegation, as the livery was conducive to fighting together: the Legion Council seemed to agree on this.

But there's something else I'm curious about.

"How the hell did you paint the Power Armor that color?"

I asked him.

He was silent for a long time: I had never seen him silent for so long since we met, and it was only at the end that he gave me a very blunt answer.

"Hmmm......"

"Practice makes perfect."

ⅩⅠ

Friendship with the Iron Warriors is a fun little thing: in fact, the sons of Perturabo are undoubtedly our most popular allies compared to the somewhat arrogant Shadowmoon Wolves and the Ultramarines who always like to steal something from us.

After ten years of fighting side by side, this company has been regarded by many combat brothers as a part of the Dawnbreaker Legion, they are not only brave and hardworking, but also very active in integrating into the Dawnbreaker Legion, and have performed very well in many tough battles.

The Fourth Legion is also sending more delegations one after another, and over the years, there have been nearly five hundred Iron Warriors on assignment with us, and eighty-two of them have died heroically in the past ten years, becoming a member of the Avalonian Heroic Souls World.

……

Seriously, if I had the freedom to choose, I'd rather have two Iron Warriors to complement my squad than have me start with two recruits.

But clearly, my complaints can't reverse the fact that the Iron Warriors are Iron Warriors after all, and they belong to Perturabo's Iron Warriors, not Morgan's.

Even if our Mother of Genes and the Lord of Olympia had a well-known friendship, that would not change who these Iron Warriors belonged.

After all, not everyone is the pride of Horus, there is a father who can spoil him infinitely, so that he can lead different warriors as a mere primordial.

ⅩⅡ

Seriously, I look down on this kind of person who is spoiled by their elders.

Even if he's the original.

ⅩⅢ

……

I don't know why: whenever I have this idea, I always feel a sense of conscience.

Maybe it's a hallucination.

ⅩⅣ

But none of this can change what I'm doing now: after getting the two recruits who can't even use plasma incineration guns and whirlpool weapons, I decided to take them to breakfast first: today's No. 3 canteen has my favorite creamy bacon pasta and popping cheese ham sandwiches.

And just as we reached the door of cafeteria three, my eyes suddenly noticed that something was wrong: something seemed to flicker in the shadows near the ventilation ducts.

I have a hunch......

In the next second, amid the shouts of the two recruits, just as I had a hunch, a slender humanoid silhouette appeared in the shadows.

A Conrad-Coz grows.

……

And I have no surprises at this.

In fact, apart from the two recruits behind me who had never seen the big world, even the mortal assistants who had served on the [Dawning Goddess] for a while did not have the slightest fear of the appearance of this genetic protogen.

Except for those in the back office.

Even some of the more daring mortal assistants would greet the Primordial Lord who had inhabited the battleship for more than ten years with a smile: this kind gesture seemed to discourage His Excellency Conrad, who tried to behave a little more terrifyingly, but with little success.

I understand this: after all, fear is sustained by killing, and these mortal auxiliaries can't see the blood and horror of Conrad on the battlefield, so they won't be like us Dawnbreakers who can witness it.

We are afraid of him.

Or rather: respect.

"Good morning, sir."

I also stepped forward to salute him: this behavior attracted the admiring glances of the two newcomers, but I had to do it, after all, he had saved my life in a previous combat operation, even if it was only an instinctive act of will, and he had hardly thought about it.

The Primordial seemed to recognize me and nodded in response to my greetings, his memory had improved visibly over the years, and he could even remember every Daybreaker on the Aurora.

At the time, I didn't realize what his response meant.

It wasn't until five minutes later, when I was sharing a table with my two juniors with my two junior friends that I found His Excellency Conrad squeezing into the table where I was, too, with his breakfast.

……

The original adult doesn't seem to have a very accurate understanding of his size.

The table was big enough for me to take a nap on, but three Daybreakers, five mortal helpers, and one Genogen were still unbearable weight for it.

I had to get very close to His Excellency Conrad: believe me, it was not a good thing to feel the cold breath of Nostramo up close now, and I even suspect that he simply wanted to hear our conversation.

Unfortunately, my mortal friends were unconsciously discussing the unthinkable: in a voice that Conrad could easily hear.

They were talking about Nostramo.

ⅩⅤ

Oh roar, it's over.

ⅩⅥ

In fact, I have heard about Nostramo before: after all, this world that fell in the southern border of the ghoul stars is too close to the Far Eastern Frontier, although Avalon's rule has not expanded in its direction out of suspicion, but the trade between the two sides has never been severed.

By now, Nostramo has been Avalon's most important source of Adamantite, and the vast trade fleets regularly visit the world of the Night: rumors were first spread among these trade fleets.

According to the captains and sailors, Nostramo seemed to have become a little strange now: it was prosperous again, but it took on an unsettling vanity, and some of the crew had discovered a number of newly built gold caves in that world, and some had even disappeared in that world.

Ten years ago, none of this would have been unthinkable: it was clear that there were some subtle changes that were slowly taking place in Nostramo, or rather reviving.

And the most obvious sign is that the Nostramo officials who were in charge of negotiating business with Avalon have unwittingly been replaced by another group of people, and those old faces who have not been replaced have also taken on an unpleasant greedy color.

……

I listened in horror as my mortal friends discussed the news, and the creamy bacon pasta in my mouth became waxy: but, to my surprise, Conrad didn't seem to react any more to the news?

He looked very calm: as if it hadn't gone beyond his expectations?

He even saw my apprehension, and that deep voice, carrying words that only the two of us could hear, squeezed out of his pale throat.

"Don't worry, my friend."

The original is very polite.

"If it had been a few years ago, I would have been furious because of it: but now it's different, I understand a lot of things, and I understand the inevitability of this situation."

"It's me who didn't think it through."

"But that's okay."

He seemed to be talking to himself, with that kind of intimidating smile.

"I'll take care of it all."

"With a ...... The right approach. ”

ⅩⅦ

The original is indeed calm: as he himself said.

In fact, Lord Conrad seemed to be more interested in another piece of news than the news about Nostramo: a case from Avalon, rumoured to have arrived with a new supply fleet.

Yes, even though we are now on an expedition at the northwestern edge of the galaxy, the supply fleet that has set sail from Avalon has not been cut off, and they are loyal, sending us a steady stream of special supplies that can only be produced from Avalon, such as a new batch of Daybreaker warriors.

Speaking of which, we have to boast of our genetic mother: one of the greatest achievements of the Proto-Lord in the past ten years since her return to the Legion is to create a logistics and transportation network of astonishing scale, and she has fully absorbed and mobilized the production capacity of the entire Far Eastern Frontier, so that the Dawnbreaker Legion has the largest and most capable logistics fleet in the entire empire, five to eight times more than the other Astarte Legions.

Since her return, situations such as lack of supplies or frugality have been completely eliminated from the Legion, and while we still maintain the habit of being thrifty and frugal, the large supply fleet allows us to have more choices in battle and life: for example, the food level of all Legions.

Is that good?

This is good.

ⅩⅧ

Lord Conrad listened to the case that had caused a storm in the city as he ate the plate of tomato omelet and custard toast for ten people in front of him.

The case itself is not complicated, and even has some classical tragedy: how should a single father who steals in order to keep his two children who are dying of starvation alive, and accidentally pushes the shopkeeper down in a fight after the revelation, causing him to have a heart attack and die.

The case itself did not happen to Avalon, but to a backward world that had just been subdued: if it had happened to Avalon, it would have caused the wrath and storm of the Primordial.

I had no interest in the kind of thing per se, but His Excellency Conrad seemed to be listening very attentively, and as he listened, he thought, and seemed to be really engaged in a long self-argument in his own mind.

It wasn't until we finished breakfast and retired one after another, that he was still holding his bowl of quinoa, asparagus, shrimp and red grapefruit salad, chewing slowly and thinking deeply.

I am not surprised by this: in recent years, it seems that listening to things and thinking has become the norm for Lord Conrad, and all we need to do is take a detour as he thinks.

By the way, the mortal assistants who took pictures were dismissed: of course, be polite.

ⅩⅨ

After finishing breakfast, I began to lead my two juniors to a rough understanding of the mystery of being a [Durahan]: this is not a simple matter, after all, we people in a sense, represent the last hole card and dignity guarantee of the original genome, and the face of the original body is far more important than the lives of our offspring.

Of course, this kind of thing should be said in private: if it is said in public or in front of the original body, it will be reprimanded, after all, among the sergeants who are responsible for the atmosphere of public opinion within the legion, there are people who are staring at this kind of "inefficient sacrificial words".

Speaking of which, I want to laugh: the sergeants who were able to meet with the original body on a regular basis worshiped the original body much more than we did, and they even put the name of the original body before the emperor.

That is, I failed to defend ten consecutive rings in the arena and lost to the old monster who had served for at least two hundred years, otherwise I would have to get a position as a sergeant.

ⅩⅩ

In my explanation of what became a true Durahan, I first answered a question from the recruits: why the Mortal Auxiliaries had such a high status in the Legion of the Daybreaker.

Many recruits have this problem: although they are not averse to maintaining good relations with mortal assistants, or even becoming friends, in their hearts, they will still be very confused about it.

After all, while the Ultramarines, Salamanders, and Emperor's Sons also have good intentions towards their mortals, that kindness is more like a protective mentality and the mercy of the superior than us: the Legion of the Daybreakers respects every mortal assistant from the bottom of our hearts, and our kindness towards mortals is an almost equal respect.

Even if you look at all the Astarte Legions, this attitude is unique.

So, of course, the recruits were confused about this: it wasn't surprising, after all, I had been curious about it before I was taught by the sergeants.

And now, I know.

ⅩⅩⅠ

"Actually, at the end of the day, this respect just stems from a word."

"With great power comes great responsibility."

That's what I told them.

"As you all know, for some unknown reason, the number of the Dawnbreaker Legion will be in a state of slump for a long time, but our tactics are flexible and three-dimensional, which means that our battle lines tend to spread wide and concentrate most of our forces on those breakthrough points."

"Therefore, in order to prevent the various heavy groups from being crushed by the enemy, we must have a strong mortal auxiliaries: they have a lot of responsibilities to take on, from the most basic filling and maintaining the frontal front, to keeping up with the offensive trends of our Daybreakers in real time to ensure that they achieve uninterrupted strikes."

"This determines that our mortal auxiliary army cannot be like other legions, playing a simple role of filling and even consumption, they have to take on more responsibilities, have stronger strength and subjective initiative, in the tactics of the legion, these battle-hardened mortals will not be consumables, but a very important part, even one of the tactical cores."

"Without their help, even if our attack could tear through the enemy's defenses, it would not have been possible to kill the opponent quickly: just as the tip of a needle, though sharper than a machete, would certainly give way to the latter in a bloody fight."

"For us, these mortal auxiliaries are important, very important: and this is the most fundamental reason why we respect them, not because of the so-called Legion culture and mercy, but because they have strength in their own right, and they rely on their self-struggle and dedication."

"There is no respect for no reason."

"So, respect the mortal auxiliaries, little ones, they deserve our heartfelt respect, because they have been paid for with their own sweat, consciousness, and blood, and Avalon has only provided them with a stage."

"Looking at the whole galaxy, I'm afraid there won't be a second stage."

ⅩⅩⅡ

I don't know if my two juniors listened to me, but it took me months to learn to respect rather than pity these mortals: and the mortal auxiliaries apparently preferred the former.

My first mortal friend was made the moment I really learned how to respect him.

And it wasn't until in a battle that he and his team appeared in that crucial position beyond my expectations, allowing the whole battle to end quickly, that I really understood the meaning of this sentence and truly determined the benefits of this sentence for the legion.

In that case, I have to let it continue to circulate, and it is my responsibility.

ⅩⅩⅢ

When I took two more juniors to the Legion's Library Twelfth to borrow books, I found a rare species called Conrad.

This didn't surprise me: the cafeteria and the library were the two places he frequented most in Conrad's habitat, and he seemed to have a soft spot for a certain kind of cafeteria specialty, and liked the narrow space of the library (for him).

For a while, he insisted on bringing lunch into the library to eat with him, so that every time we saw him, we would find the juice-stained clothes: until one day, our Primordial Lord dragged Lord Conrad into the lower deck, in a rare way.

They disappeared for an afternoon.

No one knows what's going on.

Later that day, Lord Conrad suddenly appeared in the laundry room and, in horror, borrowed a large size of hard wooden basin, an extended washboard, and a powerful laundry detergent for fifty people.

From that day on, His Excellency Conrad's daily attire was a model of cleanliness.

ⅩⅩⅣ

But even if rumors like this were very interesting, and even if His Excellency Conrad still smiled and greeted me, it was impossible for me to look at him with pure friendliness like those mortals.

As a veteran who has been licking blood from the tip of a knife for more than 100 years, I can swear by my thirteen struggles from the brink of death: Conrad-Coetzes is still dangerous today.

His savagery, his bloodthirstiness, his madness that penetrated deep into the marrow of his bones had not changed: it was just that, in some kind of acquired guidance and education, he seemed to have learned to recognize and suppress the existence of these instincts.

He also learned grace: a thug-like grace in a suit, expressed in the daily spicy sarcasm, mocking smiles, and the eloquent Nostramo eulogy of disemboweling enemies on the battlefield.

To put it simply: he is still crazy, but at the very least, he has learned to control his madness, or does he choose to show his crazy side only to certain people or people?

I don't want to speculate on the fate of the hapless guys: this suppressed madness will inevitably lead to more terrible outbursts, and the calmer and gentler Conrad behaves on weekdays, the more terrifying he will be when he shows his madness.

Thankfully, neither the Daybreaker nor our mortal auxiliaries would be the target of this genetic protologist.

This is the best news of all.

ⅩⅩⅤ

Having seen this Midnight Ghost perform on the battlefield, I can only cheer in my heart for the power of our Mother of Genes: for her ability to hold this natural beast down, to at least for the time necessary to rein in his fangs.

ⅩⅩⅥ

But sometimes, I also think.

Perhaps: our genetic mother can actually completely change Conrad and make his graceful side completely prevail, instead of letting elegance and madness occupy Midnight Ghost at the same time, as is the case now, making him a more contradictory and concrete being.

A real ...... Ordinary people?

……

Was our original body unintentional or deliberate?

ⅩⅩⅦ

I know.

I'm not in a position to think about that.

I'm not interested in the answer to this question either.

After all, Midnight Ghost is just a passerby.

And Morgan ......

is the eternal master of the Dawnbreaker Legion.

(End of chapter)