"I think we need to have a good talk, Johnson."

"Let's talk openly and honestly."

Again, this sentence rang in the ears of the Caliban Lion: Even if you look at the entire Dark Angel Legion, I am afraid that only one person dares to speak to the original body in this tone.

Luther.

“……”

The First Legion, who was working at the desk, did not respond to this sentence, he just raised his head and looked ahead: his usual desk was next to the inner wall, facing the door of the room, and there was a distance of about ten meters between the two, which was enough to accommodate all kinds of filing cabinets and weapon racks on both sides.

There was no decoration between the table and the door, only a stone floor wide enough for a few Astarte warriors to stand side by side: for the past few dozen Terra standard years, countless warriors of the Dark Angel Legion had stood here, reporting to Johnson what he needed to know, or receiving orders from the Lions to lead the ranks and slaughter the Quartet.

Among these people were Terra veterans who held high positions and fought with the emperor; There are also young and reckless new blood of Caliban, who have just retreated from the atmosphere of the forest; There are champion swordsmen who are famous for their martial arts and exploits, and there are secret walkers whose names are not recognized by any of the archives.

These warriors are very different in ability, character, appearance, and style, and there is no possibility of any acquaintance between them, but with just one command from Johnson, they can unite and form the most efficient killing machine in the whole galaxy: it is by virtue of such a military miracle that the lion of Caliban has become the only person in the entire galaxy who can completely master the entire First Legion: in this regard, I am afraid that even the emperor is inferior to him.

It's just that this secret that once made the Dark Angel Legion proud of the crowd has now been fundamentally shaken: just like those Dark Angel warriors who once stood on the bluestone floor and listened to Johnson's words, most of them have disappeared unconsciously, while others are still faithfully performing their current duties, but those serious or dim pupils are also involuntarily flashing with a haze about the recent situation and the future.

Nothing speaks more to the weakness of the First Legion now, though it did not shake Johnson's will at all: he remained entrenched in his throne like a stubborn knight in his fortress, and his will and command were still stronger than steel, driving the entire First Legion on the track of war, and not to be discouraged.

No one knew how much pressure Johnson was under, and as the only one who knew the full extent of the Dark Angel, he probably knew better than anyone that the nerves of the First Legion had tensed to a terrible degree, but in the face of every subordinate who came to receive orders, his eyebrows still did not tremble in the slightest, and his voice was still like a clockwork machine, issuing one order after another, which still made most people dare not disobey or even ask questions.

Even Coswayne, who is known as the Lion King's Steward, has not asked Johnson for a long time: the more confusion he has in his heart, the more he thinks about it, and he does not dare to speak to his genetic father, because the real predicament and the pressure of the bloodline hinder him at the same time, making this famous warrior seem a little hesitant and hesitant.

But luckily, there is always someone braver than Coswayne.

When witnessing for the first time how the mortal walked into Johnson's office with his head held high, the Lion King couldn't help but begin to admire Luthor's courage from the bottom of his heart: and it turned out that Luthor was definitely worthy of such admiration, he faced the cold pressure on Johnson's body again and again, but never let go of his insistence.

This time, no matter what, he decided to settle it all.

It's time to wrap it up.

The words of ambition echoed in Luthor's chest, and the flame of courage burned with it, and with that, Luthor pushed open the door he was already somewhat familiar with, stepped over the hard bluestone floor, the figures of filing cabinets and weapon racks passing through the corners of his eyes, and when they disappeared, the old knight of Caliban was already standing in front of the original table, and Johnson had raised his head, casting an iceberg of cold light in his gaze.

"Luther."

"Johnson."

Luthor responded, his voice a dusty death after the flames had burned out.

Johnson put down the pen in his hand, rested both of his arms on the table, and pressed down on the barrage of papers, on which were recorded shocking numbers, the progenitor's vision swept indifferently over them, and then turned to Luthor's gray face.

He spoke, and his tone was no more human than that of an iron man.

"I remember the last time we spoke, I told you not to mention your motion in front of me again, there is a limit to my tolerance for this weakness, no matter how many times you come, I can give you only one answer."

"Now, get out and don't delay my productivity any longer."

"Remember what I said to you, and what I commanded you."

At the end of the sentence, the Genotype's tone rose slightly, like a fierce cold wind cutting over a boulder on the top of a mountain, showing the anger in his heart: even the greatest and proudest Astarte warriors would be instinctively timid because of the anger of the Genotype, but Luthor didn't, and he even gave Johnson a smile in return.

"Don't be like this, Johnson, I've been fighting alongside you for decades, and I've seen you when you're really angry, it's a silent thunderbolt, not the pretense you are now."

“……”

"And as I said in our last conversation, I'm going to stick to my appeal, no matter how many times I do: until you pass it."

"As for that order of yours......"

Luther's mouth pursed, but he didn't say anything in the end.

Johnson frowned, and several hideous furrows began to appear on his forehead and face, just as Luthor had said, when the anger began to burn in the chest of the Caliban lion, his body would be like a thunderbolt.

"I repeat, Luther, take your weak motion, get out!"

"Don't forget to carry out my orders!"

"And, don't forget, you are now my warrior, my orders have always been clear, and your duties have always been clear: you have no right to disobey me, nor do you have the authority to dictate my strategic arrangements."

"You're right, Johnson, and I'm not unhappy about that, you told me that I was your left hand, and I still am, right?"

"I have never discredited your abilities, and I do consider you my left hand."

Johnson's voice was deep.

"But that doesn't mean you can be as rude as you are now, as my left hand, you actually want to manipulate my will in turn and dictate how I can win a victory?"

"I never wanted to manipulate you."

Luthor put the document in his hand on the Lion King's table, and then gently pushed away the chair next to him, staring at Johnson across the table, when Luthor puffed up his chest, he could barely keep his gaze on the same level as the seated Johnson, and not fall behind in momentum.

"But it is precisely because I am your left hand, or more clearly, that I am a soldier under your command, a member of the Legion, and a part of this war, that I have to come to you again and again and pour out my opinion: I have no right to dictate any of your strategic arrangements, but I have the right to prevent this war from sliding to a worse point."

"You have to admit it, you are making our situation worse, Johnson even worse, this war has become a bloody symphony of slaughter, glory and victory are long gone, and we are left with only bitter casualty figures, and a future that is unacceptable to all."

"So, I have to stop you."

“……”

Luther's words echoed like a stone that had fallen on the steel floor, echoing far louder than its own weight: the old knight knew very well that his words would anger the lion of Caliban, so he was not surprised when the cold silence swept over him.

He could see clearly that Johnson was instinctively arching his body, his dangerous emerald pupils narrowed, and a glimmer of light leaped through them, the last warning that the carnivorous beast would give before pounce on its prey.

But fortunately, this ray of light was finally forcibly suppressed when it crossed Luther's face, but in contrast, Johnson's next sentence was a roar that was forced out of his throat.

"You think I'm wrong, Luther?"

"You think I'm making this war a losing one? Do you think my command can no longer give the Legion victory? And then let the emperor's will be carried out? ”

“……”

The tone was calmer and calmer, but the words were heavier and heavier, and although he had been fully prepared before entering the door, Luthor could still feel a large stream of cold sweat sliding down his spine, and then quickly solidifying, sticking to his clothes, which was unsettling.

After a moment of silence, Luthor slowly opened his mouth, he had to withstand the beast-like pressure of the genetic prototype, which was more difficult than he had imagined, but he still tried to suppress the uneasiness and trembling between his words.

He had imagined such a scene, and he had also imagined his current ugliness, and he accepted it all more calmly than he had imagined, and for a moment, he was even imagining that maybe he should have done this a long time ago, and he should have stood in front of Johnson a long time ago and said something.

It's just that before that, he didn't have the corresponding courage.

But now, he has.

Because of that order from Johnson.

Luther had courage, not from a desperate understanding of the battle situation, not from the hypocritical support of Astrand, but from some more distant part of the galaxy, from his Caliban and the Far Eastern frontier, from the glory days and broken home in his pupils, from the ordeal that his mind had unwittingly experienced, a meditation, an enlightenment.

"You're wrong, Johnson."

Luthor puffed up his chest, his words more calm than he had imagined, and this calmness even caused the anger of the original body to stop for a moment: Johnson's figure receded imperceptibly, as if waiting for his words.

"I have never doubted your strategy from a military point of view, nor have I ever thought that you would let victory slip through your fingertips, no matter what the current situation is, I am very sure that you will win in the end, just as in Caliban, when we faced those invincible behemoths in desperate situations, I never questioned your ability as a warrior and a commander, nor did I question your persistence and loyalty."

Luthor didn't immediately cut to the point, he first used a relatively soft tone, avoiding Johnson's sharpest edge, and these words were what he had always wanted to confide in Johnson, and they were also his heartfelt recognition.

As he had just said, after witnessing the first battle commanded by Johnson, Luthor had never questioned Johnson's ability on the battlefield, and the old knight of the Caliban was convinced that the lion he had brought back from the deepest jungle was the best battlefield killer in the entire galaxy.

He will not waver in this notion, he believes it from the bottom of his heart.

This trust was so dazzling and so deep that even Johnson, whose chest was burned with anger, could recognize it in Luther's countenance: and the Caliban Lion, who realized this, had more or less lost some of his anger.

Although his face is still an iceberg that can freeze people's hearts.

"So what."

Johnson's tone was cold.

"If you never doubted the victory of this war, why did you stop me again and again: don't tell me that you were impressed by Astrand's tricks, that the fool could only convince himself."

Luther's brow furrowed, he thought Astrand's movements were stealthy enough.

"I certainly don't doubt the victory of this war, Johnson, but I have to mention to you another aspect, one that you never seem to have considered."

At this, Luthor sighed heavily in his chest.

"According to your plan and arrangement, victory will indeed come, but this victory is too heavy, and the blood, effort and sacrifice it requires are no longer what we can afford: I don't know if you have cared about this, but the current Dark Angel Legion may no longer be able to bear the next victory in your mouth."

"Yes, if we move on, there may be a victory waiting for us, but this victory will not be alone: along with us, there will be destruction."

"And what is the point of victory when destruction comes?"

"Our destruction."

"The Destruction of the Dark Angels."

"Even ......"

"Enough!"

Johnson interrupted Luther's words, and Luthor didn't even realize it, for he was staring at Johnson's pupils: as he uttered these words fluently, his heart was far calmer than he had expected.

It was as calm as falling into an ice cave.

Because he saw exactly that these words did flow into Johnson's emerald pupils, but those pupils did not change even the slightest: neither touched, nor shocked, not even angry, as if time was also frozen in them.

Luther's last struggle and attempt failed: Johnson may have listened to him, but he was not touched in the slightest.

And so, another sigh, another real sigh, echoed in the chest of the old knight of Caliban, and with that sigh echoed the sound of the Spider Empress pushing open the door.

[I hope I'm not late.] 】

Morgan's words are extremely symbolic, if nothing else, just the decorative smile contained in the words, and it is also a precious object that is absolutely impossible to appear in this room.

Luthor turned his head, he looked at the Lord of the Second Legion, and a glimmer of hope burned in his pupils, and at that moment, another voice rang out: it was not Luther's voice.

"No, Morgan."

Johnson's tone was cold.

"You're just in time."

"We have something that we need your witness right now."

——————

"Luther, as I said, you have always been my left hand, and you have been in Caliban, and still is, so I think there is no need for too much red tape between us: I will express my position in the most concise and concise terms."

"From now on, I will change your duties in the Legion, your new position will be the Governor of the Legion's home planet Caliban: those on Holy Terra, who have been urging me to take care of the administrative affairs of the Caliban, and now, I have decided to hand it over to you: the military, political, new blood recruitment, and communication with other departments of the Empire above the Caliban will be in your hands, and I believe that your abilities will be more reflected in that position."

"In the meantime, your other positions in the Legion should be temporarily suspended, and you may submit to me a list of names that you think are suitable for the position, and they will perform their duties in your place until there is a new adjustment in your personnel, and in the meantime they will be directly accountable to me. And you are directly accountable to me, and any order other than that issued by me personally is a null and void document for you. ”

"Also, in view of the enormous workload of the position of Governor of Caliban, and the actual demands of it, I allow you to select a group of soldiers from among the Legion who will return to the Legion with you, preferably among those who are physically functioning elders. I'll personally review the list you have submitted, and the maximum number of people on this list is 200, and no more. ”

"I will not announce this temporary transfer, all your titles, honors and titles will be retained, and there will be no new users of your office in this corridor, unless you appoint a candidate to me, but you must face up to the new responsibilities I have given you, and you must go at once, select the personnel who will return to the Caliban with you, draw up a new training plan, and submit to me your draft of the world management of the Caliban, which must be carried out immediately, before this war begins, I hope you and your new team will be on your way to Caliban. ”

"This war has nothing to do with you, Luther: it has nothing to do with you from the beginning."

"Do you have any new proposals for my order, then? If not, this order is already in force from this moment on......"

"Governor Luthor."

——————

When Morgan entered the room, it seemed too late, but everything seemed to be just right: Johnson's words resounded through the room the moment Morgan closed the door, cutting out all sounds, and by the time Morgan's boots touched the foot of the table, he had already said all his words, and there was no room to withdraw them.

Morgan didn't say anything to stop him, because Johnson's tone was as cold and serious as she had almost never seen before, and she instinctively realized that even the deep bond between her and Johnson might not be able to shake the will of the Caliban Lion this time: moreover, Luthor himself did not seem to intend to shake this.

In fact, Luthor seemed to have expected all this for a long time, and he stood there quietly, listening to Johnson's order as usual, a bitter smile on his face as the order was issued, but it quickly disappeared.

Johnson saw this, but he chose to ignore it, and he just looked quietly at his former mentor, quietly waiting for the next sentence that came out of Luther's mouth: it could be an anger, an emotion, or a simple question.

Luthor was silent for a moment before looking up at the lion.

"Is it a bit inappropriate to let the elders of the legion return to the Caliban with me, they are all warriors who have experienced countless hardships and hardships, and their absence seems to have some impact on the next expedition, and it seems to be an unfair treatment for themselves."

“……”

The Lion King's brow moved unconsciously, and he paused, as if he didn't expect that Luthor's first answer would be this, but he immediately responded to his mentor.

"Don't worry, among the Dark Angels, there are already some legion elders in charge of recruitment, who have been away from the front for some time for various reasons, and for them, the only difference between the Indomitable Truth and the Caliban is the change of their office location."

"That's ......"

Luthor nodded, his words like a sigh.

"Then I'll be fine."

“……”

"It's for the best."

Johnson was silent for a moment, his emerald pupils looking elsewhere as he turned, not looking directly at Luther's face at this time.

"In that case, then go back, Luther, and don't delay the rest of the work."

"Okay, Johnson: I see."

Luthor lowered his eyelids, his pupils disappeared into a shadow, making it impossible to see the specific look inside, the old knight who had regained his former posture through genetic surgery, but at this time, like a real old man, began to move his steps with some difficulty, his eyes first turned to Morgan on the side, and showed a gentle smile as much as possible, after receiving the same reply from the Lord of Avalon, he turned around, and walked towards the door with some hesitation.

He didn't speak, he didn't look back again, and neither did Johnson.

Although Morgan could see clearly that the Caliban Lion, with his back to the door, seemed to have been trying to look away from his former mentor again, Johnson did not do so in the end, and he held back.

Luther, however, turned his head when he reached the door.

"Johnson, is there any ...... in that plan of yours?"

"No, Luther."

The Lion King's words were so cold and hard that they were frightening.

"It's not going to change anything: especially the point we've been talking about."

“……”

"Well: I wish you all the best."

“……”

The Lion King did not reply.

The only thing he left for Luthor was a vague sigh from the lion's throat as the old knight closed the door: a sigh faint enough that even another genogen was unsure of its existence.

Morgan watched it all quietly.

From that clever mouth, without any stopping or dissuasion, the Spider Queen just watched Luthor's departure with silence, and waited for Johnson's sigh with the same silence, waiting for Johnson to slowly leave his position and walk to the counter on the side.

When the lion turned again, he held the bottle in one hand and two glasses in the other.

Throwing Morgan a glass, Johnson poured himself a glass of wine, the papers and numbers on the table that had fascinated him no longer seemed to be able to attract the interest of the genotype.

"Are you weird about that? Morgan? ”

"I'm a little weird. 】

Morgan took the glass and let Johnson pour in a little wine, and the crimson liquid was so red that the Spider Queen could see Johnson's emerald pupils, and in those pupils that should have remained calm, there was still a slight human light: that was the light that Morgan and Johnson had not found at all when they first met.

"Are you wondering if this is all going too fast, wondering why I sent Luthor back to Caliban so easily, and didn't even have time to dissuade you?"

Took a sip. There was not the slightest touch in his voice.

[Yes, and Luthor is also calmer than I thought. 】

Morgan nodded.

"Of course he calmed down, after all, this is not our first conversation."

"Every conversation creates a deeper and deeper chasm between us, and we have to talk like this almost every day before you arrive, and it's getting more and more exciting. Growing angrier and angrier, until pure anger consumes the original reason. ”

"It's just that after this anger has burned out, when we have one last conversation, that is, this conversation, we have become calm."

"After burning, there are only ashes, only ashes that cannot change anything."

Johnson turned, paced slowly, returned to his desk, and sat down, perhaps because of the effects of alcohol, or perhaps because the long period of time was too oppressive for even a genetic agent: the Caliban's chatterbox was noticeably more active than usual.

Just like Riemann Ruth before him.

[You've talked about it many times? 】

"To be specific, I've talked seventeen times, nine of which have been almost mere quarrels and debates, but none of them have reached a valid agreement: I have apparently given Luthor too much power and indulgence to shake my authority and command again and again, which has had a bad effect even in the Legion."

"So, now he has to go back to Caliban: that's just one of the reasons."

[Not surprising.] 】

Morgan snorted, and she took a sip of the glass of wine, only to find that it was still the same bottle she had placed with Johnson, and it was even more durable than she had imagined, perhaps because every time it was opened, only a small part of it would be poured away.

[Or maybe you would allow Luthor to come to you again and again, and I was shocked: You wouldn't normally do this, Johnson, this seems to you to be a meaningless act, what changed you?] 】

"I haven't changed."

The genogen roared in a deep voice, and the anger he had just used against Luthor didn't seem to have completely subsided from his chest, but the mutilated anger like this didn't pose the slightest threat to Morgan.

"The most important reason why I can indulge Luthor is because his views have become the consensus of many people in the Legion: although I never care about these drags that are not beneficial to the war, but at this time in time, I must also pay attention to the situation in the Legion, more than ten years of war have dealt a serious blow to the internal structure of the Dark Angel, and the system I set up when I just returned is now very damaged, and I have no time to repair it, This forced me to take into account more aspects, such as the voices of certain groups in the Legion. ”

"In the past, these voices were managed by their respective orders, but the related orders have lost their inheritance during the war, and now I can't even find anyone who can rebuild it."

[Astrand? 】

"You know?"

[He has already left an impression on my mind when I was a psionic advisor by your side: of course it won't be a good impression, but I have to admit that even if you look at all the Astarte warriors, Astram is an excellent one]

"He's always been like that."

Johnson looked at one side of the wall, where the few decorations in the room hung a painting depicting a dark tale of a dying knight and a scarred beast stabbing each other in the chest in the deepest part of the forest, destined for the tragic fate of the other.

"But now, his voice is being heard by more people, including Luther: they all believe that this war deserves a pause, they all believe that there is no reason for us to continue, they do not want to continue the march, but they want to retreat temporarily, to the borders of the Empire, to wait for reinforcements and supplies from Holy Terra, and then return here in a more prepared state."

[From a military point of view, this point of view is actually unreasonable: you know the current state of the Legion, Johnson, we have indeed reached the limit in many ways, and the next battle for us may be both victory and destruction, but it is more likely that both will come at the same time, a flower of victory that needs to be watered with our destruction. 】

“……”

"Are you intimidated by that?"

The lion paused for a moment, then looked at his blood relatives, and there was absolute concentration and seriousness in his emerald pupils: it was obvious that Zhuang Shen was very concerned about Morgan's next answer, and it was even the support of some kind of belief in his heart.

Morgan noticed this, so she didn't answer immediately, and after drinking the crimson liquid from the glass, the Spider Queen shook the empty wine glass in her hand and smiled at Johnson.

Do you remember what I told you? 】

[I will always respond to you, Morgan will always respond to Johnson, and since I have responded to your call and come to your side, then I have absolutely no reason to leave you and run away alone. 】

“……”

"You're still like that, as sure as the sword at my waist."

Quite rarely, a sincere smile appeared on the face of the Caliban lion, although his gaze did not linger on Morgan's body for too long, but in his emerald pupils, there seemed to be a little more confidence, the most precious thing.

What about you? 】

"Me? I'm just like you. ”

"I never had the possibility of escaping: since I had advanced the front lines of the war here, the only choice I would make was to continue to push it on."

"Look at the star map, Morgan, our fallen brother is so close to us, and as long as our fleet departs from Mandeville Point in this galaxy and crosses the shortest subspace voyage, we will smash the fleet directly on his lair, and clean up all his plans with flames and explosives: I will never back down from this point."

[Because of the pride in your heart?] 】

"Not really: I do go to the battlefield with pride, but pride is never my reason to fight."

Johnson shook his head, his every word was so sincere and reliable, as if every breath spoke of the tenacity in his chest: a tenacity that few could match across the galaxy, and perhaps only great men like Dorne and St. Giles could match the Caliban.

"We're going to have a very real question to consider, Morgan."

"We are not fighting at the foot of the walls of the Empire, we are on an expedition in the darkness far from the Empire, even the northernmost border of the Empire is a long way from us, if we abandon our current battle line and return to the borders of the Empire to repair and suppose, then even if all goes well, when we return here, it will take at least a few months, maybe even a year."

"Anything can happen in such a long time, and I guess you've seen the depravity and madness of our brother, and I can't imagine what will happen to him for another year."

[It is also possible that nothing happens.] 】

"Yes, it is true that nothing will happen during this year, but it is also possible that the situation will be irreparable: it is a gamble, my blood relative, with the future of the entire empire and all mankind."

"This is intolerable!"

"I can't make such a gamble! I have neither the power, nor the qualification, to gamble the future of the Empire with a crazy project that can only exist in fantasy, and the Emperor has never given me the right to do so, and I will never claim it on my own initiative. ”

"Therefore, I will not allow this gamble to happen, and the only thing I can do is to continue the fight with all the strength in my hands: any factor that can threaten the empire should be completely annihilated at the first moment it is discovered, and in the face of this, there is no reason to retreat, and no weak move is allowed."

"Even if they come from my legion, I will never allow it: whether it is Astran or Luther, I know very well what they are thinking, I know very well: they are worried about the fate of the Dark Angels after this war, they are worried that the Legion will be completely destroyed, they are worried that their own interests will be damaged by this war."

"I don't doubt their loyalty, whether it's Astran or Luthor, they are indeed loyal to the Empire and the Emperor, but what we can't argue with is that in the hearts of these of my subordinates, the Dark Angel Legion is more important than the Empire, and they are willing to put the fate of the Empire on the table under the premise that the Dark Angel may be destroyed."

"I can't accept that, so any retreat is not allowed, so we have to attack immediately, so Luthor has to go back to Caliban."

"Because they've got one thing wrong."

——————

"The core of loyalty is never self-understanding and moving, but unrepentant execution and sacrifice, self-righteous loyalty, never loyalty, but another way of writing selfishness, meanness, madness and ambition."

——————

"Do you understand?"

[Of course.] 】

Morgan nodded, and she immediately gave this response, not only because Johnson was staring at her intently at the moment, but also because she understood the internal logic of the question in front of her very well.

To put it simply, both Luthor and Johnson are correct: Luthor does not want a war that may end together, and they want to use a short lag and better preparation to erase the possibility of both deaths.

Johnson's view, on the other hand, was even simpler and crude: in order to achieve victory as quickly as possible and erase the possible threat to the Empire, he did not mind the destruction and destruction that would come, even if it was his own legion.

And the reason why Luthor and Johnson have argued again and again is precisely because between these two views, the most important element is absolutely impossible to make public, that is: for the good of the empire. Johnson didn't mind the destruction of the Dark Angel Legion.

A lot of people are aware of this, but even if everyone does, it's absolutely impossible to make it public: although, in Morgan's view. Johnson's philosophy is actually the one that is really correct.

Yes.

In terms of the concept of the human empire, Johnson is the right one.

The reality is so ridiculous.

In this glorious expedition, nothing is not worth sacrificing for the sake of the Emperor, the Empire, and humanity, and even the fate of an Astarte Legion that once dominated the galaxy is only a pawn to be discarded in the face of some more important issues and interests.

And at this time, those who cherish their legions will also become mistakes and traitors in a sense, and those who abandon the fate of the legion in cold blood will be the loyalists that the empire and humanity really need.

To the outside world, Johnson was more ruthless, more ruthless, and more unreasonable: so, for the Empire, he was the right one.

This world is such a fucked up.

[So I think Luther's repeated arguments can't actually affect anything: he can't affect your determination to fight this war at all, and the so-called plan for a temporary retreat was also in the air from the beginning, and he realized this, so he has become unusually calm now, right?] 】

"He realized early on, we have already experienced showdowns and quarrels, and this time today is just one last notice, he came to me, awaiting his fate, or venting his last anger on me."

When Johnson told all this, there was even a smile on the corner of his mouth, but this smile was quickly suppressed by the cold reality, and the fingertips of the genetic prototype wrapped in steel gloves slowly brushed over the documents on the table: Morgan could clearly see that underneath the numbers representing casualties and attrition was an attack plan that had already been initiated.

"The plan for the attack has already been finalized and even executed, and it is impossible for Luthor not to feel it: as soon as you and your legions arrive, the war will begin, and no one will be able to stop it. The Dark Angel must destroy the Emperor's enemies here, whoever he is, and whatever the cost we will pay. ”

"Because, that's the point of me and the Dark Angel's appearance, and it's useless to fight against meaning itself, and when Luthor realizes it, he accepts his defeat."

[At the very least, he understands that he lost.] 】

Morgan replied.

[For him, I'm afraid this matter is more important. 】

[However, I have one more question. 】

[My brother, didn't you think that my legion and I would not be able to reach for some reason? What should you do when that happens? 】

"First, I don't believe you'll be late."

Johnson glanced at Morgan, seemingly unconcerned about the possibility.

"Second, I've actually spoken to Riemann privately, and he's more determined than you see: we've come to a consensus that whether or not your legion gets here within the allotted time, the Dark Angel and the Space Wolf will take the next step, and we'll use all our means to kill that fallen brother, and victory will not be a problem for us from the start."

And as for sacrifice, it was not a problem in the first place. ”

[In that case, then why do you want Luthor and those legion elders to leave before the war begins, their presence will also add a small chip of victory to the balance of war.] 】

Morgan's question silenced Johnson for a long time, perhaps for a full five minutes, before he turned his gaze away from the Spider Empress and began to wander the room: on the frescoes of knights and behemoths, on the racks of weapons that adorned his weapons, on the filing cabinets of honor that the Legions would never be published, on the banners that symbolized the swords and wings of the First Legion.

"Luthor has to go back to Caliban, and he has to come back to Caliban, and he has to be able to play more value and a necessary way back than he does to stay here."

[The back road? 】

The word made Morgan's brow twitch, and she instinctively felt something unpleasant.

"Listen, Morgan: I have no doubt about victory, but that doesn't mean I don't need to think about the worst-case scenario, which is why I'm so tolerant of Luther."

"I must take the time to make him understand that I know as well as he does what awaits the Dark Angels in the next war: bloodshed and sacrifice, enlightenment and destruction, and I will not hesitate if the Dark Angel Legion really needs to use destruction to fulfill our promise."

"Destruction may befall the First Legion, and I will choose this path myself."

"At that time, Luthor, who has returned to Caliban, will have his value: destruction is not the end of duty, and the Dark Angel Legion can have no honor, no fleet, and no great power that was once proud, but that does not mean that we can lose our duty and faith in fighting for the Emperor."

"In any case, the duty must be passed on, and nothing can stand in the way of that."

【……】

Morgan blinked, and it took her almost a minute to accept the not-so-subtle hint in Johnson's words, even with the logic of the genetic prototype.

Because before that, Morgan had never thought about a single question related to this: for any Primordial, or even an Astarte warrior, it seemed to be a terrible subject after betraying the Lord of Humanity.

[Destruction? 】

"It's not impossible."

The corners of Johnson's mouth curled.

"None of my high-ranking knights are masters of war, and none of them are optimistic about the future of this war, and I, like them, believe in victory and the sacrifices it requires."

"So, back to Caliban, even the punishment that Luthor is going to suffer, is a responsibility for him: it took me several conversations to make him realize it, and it took him the idea to sprout in his heart."

【……】

[This is the "plan" that made Luthor want to dissuade you until the end?] 】

"Yes, once something irreparable happened to me and the Dark Angel Legion in the heat of battle. Then Luther and the two hundred legionnaires he had chosen would take on the responsibility of rebuilding the First Legion on Caliban. ”

"After all, I can't give this responsibility to anyone in the Legion but him: Arachos is not good at this, and Coswayne is better suited to stay at his post."

【……】

[Then why two hundred?] Wouldn't it be nice to have a little more? 】

"That would really affect the combat effectiveness of the legion, Morgan, not to mention ......"

Johnson stood, and looked at the great banner behind him: the sword and the wings spoke of the glory of the First Legion, the glory that had been created before his return, and which he seemed to have failed and never seemed to have lived up to.

Johnson stroked the banner, and there was a sensuality in his tone that he had almost never felt before: it was pride in the Legion.

"It's a well-known thing throughout the Empire that the Emperor's Sons once reborn their legions with just two hundred warriors left: while the odds Luthor will face should be even more daunting, there's no reason why the Dark Angels can't do what other legions can do, and I've never been the real reason why they're strong."

【……】

But it doesn't have to be. 】

Morgan shook her head, she never got out of the shock she felt about Johnson's plan, she even briefly thought about pulling in the other brothers and forcibly changing the current plan of the Caliban master.

[The Emperor's Son is because he has encountered their genetic protogen, Johnson, in this regard, Luthor will not be able to find a means other than you, and with me, destruction cannot befall you: we may suffer defeat, but I will not let everything go to the worst. 】

“……”

"I know you have the ability."

Johnson turned, smiling and shaking his head in response to Morgan's words.

And when the knight king of Caliban stood in front of the Spider Empress in full armor, with his hands behind his back and his sword at his waist, like a perfect marble knight sculpture, the Lord of Avalon was shocked to realize that there was also a light that made her feel ashamed in this brother of hers.

She couldn't seem to open her eyes: Morgan had never looked at Johnson so much as she did now, and she felt a certain sense of shame and a rather real sense of defeat.

"I thank you for your kindness."

"But I have only one response to that."

Johnson smiled, a gentle smile, but not obtrusive.

"Listen, Morgan."

"If, the Dark Angel is destined to fall here for the fate of the Empire."

"Then my only end will be to stand proudly with my warriors in the face of our destruction: and before that, I will ensure that the enemies of the empire will fall with us to hell."

【……】

[Because of your loyalty to the emperor? 】

"Nope."

"Because, that's my choice."

(End of chapter)