"It seems like we've not officially talked about anything in a long time, Johnson."

“…… What do you mean, Riemann? ”

"It's literally: it's been a long time since we've communicated properly."

"Didn't we always attend military meetings together to communicate the course of the war and the deployment of our respective legions: have you forgotten these things, Riemann, how did I not know that you were such a forgetful fellow?"

“……”

The Wolf King's eyes narrowed.

After a moment of hesitation, the Fenris decided to preserve the brotherhood that had been born so hard.

"I mean, it seems like it's been a long time since we've talked: it's just the kind of conversation when we meet in the hallway, just sit down and listen to each other's thoughts around something we all care about, and then talk about it."

Witness the majestic shadow of the walls of the Terra Palace in the distance. Riemanrus exhaled a long string of cold air and sighed.

"Maybe it's a few months, maybe it's more than a year: my father is on top, he didn't give me a head that can keep accurate time, this is the only thing I envy Magnus, how can he remember so many things?"

"Because, it's all meaningless stuff, entertaining oneself and enclosing oneself, just like you and your men feast every day on your own warship: when the hangover is over, will you remember the details of the feast?"

"Magnus or you, your meaningless hobbies don't create real value and can't benefit the empire, so when the carnival is over, you can't find enough evidence to recall the past."

"It's as simple as that, Riemann."

The heavy hum from Caliban echoed his brother, and although it sounded cold, he could still feel a trace of sincere brotherhood and an irrepressible good mood.

“……”

The King of Fenris was silent, he turned his head and glanced at his brother, his wild golden beard rubbing a helpless arc against his wiped breastplate, and it was a long time before Riemanlus shook his head.

"I want to talk to you, Johnson, about something light, not to listen to what you have to say here: if I want to hear the big truth, there are at least twenty forbidden soldiers within a hundred meters behind us, and any one of them is more catchy than you say."

The corners of the Wolf King's mouth cracked into a malicious arc, and Johnson just looked back in silence: Sure enough, with Riemanlus's speech, which didn't want to lower his voice at all, the Imperial Guards who were far behind the two genetic prototypes instantly raised their vigilance to the highest level.

“……”

"If you want to cause trouble in the palace, I won't save you, Riemann."

Johnson's face, which originally had a hint of warmth and smile, gradually became gloomy because of these words, but after seeing all this, Riemanrus's mood warmed up visibly.

"You know, brother, I could have dragged you into the water: just like we did at Turan, when the two of us fought here, guess what the whole father's baby bumps would tell right from wrong, or would they take the two of us together?"

“……”

"That's why I hate them."

Johnson snorted heavily, his hands behind his back, and continued to walk forward.

Left behind by the Lion King, the Fenris shrugged his shoulders helplessly, turned his head to look at the guarded shield-bearers, and waved at them, but all he received was a more serious silence and a clenched blade.

“……”

The bored Fenris pouted, and had to keep up with his brother.

"You're right, Johnson: they're a nuisance."

The Caliban glanced at their wolf brother and did not answer, and for the next period of time, the two genetic protogens walked side by side in the corridors of the palace, enjoying their relationship, and it could even be said that it was a rare period of peace in their lives.

Every now and then mortal magnates and attendants appeared around the corner in front of them, and in the palace of Terra, these creatures were as numerous as flying insects in a summer night, and they saluted the children of the two emperors in panic, and at each time Johnson exuded an aura that amazed Riemanrus.

It was a transformation that could hardly be described in any words, a transformation that Riemannus had never seen before, but which he believed would only occur in Johnson: when the mortals who did not know each other walked before them and saluted, the Lion of Caliban, who had been wandering through the inner court of the palace, would carefully rein in his wildness at a moment beyond any sense of the senses, and naturally exude a gloomy and majestic aura.

This aura is natural, it doesn't need any acquired learning at all, and it can even make mortals restrain their panic in time, treat the two genetic prototypes with silence and absolute respect, and speed up the pace of departure very self-consciously.

Riemanrus stayed side by side with Johnson all the way, but a little further back, so that he could observe Johnson's transformation from the best possible angle: even the Wolf King had to sigh that his brother was indeed very talented in this area, but the Calibans did not seem to take advantage of this talent.

To put it more clearly: Johnson had a gift for kinghood, which was undoubtedly a gift from the emperor, and the Calibans were not shy about unleashing this talent when necessary, but nothing more, he did not dabble in it, all he did was to exude this aura and make people respect him.

Once the communication starts deeper, then this guy is going to be exposed.

Thinking of this, Riemann Ruth couldn't help but choke a smile in his heart, and he remembered what Johnson had told him a long time ago: on Duran, the Calibans used to boast to him that they also had friends on Terra.

Originally, Riemanrus still felt a little strange: what kind of person could become Johnson's friend?

Now that I think about it, it might just be some mortals who prostrate themselves at his feet because of his aura: as for Johnson? His understanding of the word friend must have deviated from the mainstream view of the Empire.

Thinking of this, a long-lost glimmer of light emerged from the wolf king's mind, a question flashed in his heart, and then another thought flashed, and it was deeply embedded in his curiosity, and the Fenris people who scratched it couldn't stop.

So, he took a quick step, smoothed out the last bit of distance between Johnson, and pushed his brother's shoulder with his elbow until Johnson looked at him.

"What's the matter?"

The Lion King asked, after those mortal magnates were gone, the expression of the King of Caliban had returned to its previous appearance, although it was a little gloomy and serious, but it was not too bad, even compared to the state in the previous war time. Now Johnson can even smile with cheerfulness.

Cheerful lion ......

It's scary to think about......

But think about it: the long war is over. The Emperor's reward has been lowered, and the chaotic problems such as Luther or Terra's warriors have been lifted one by one, and as for the honor that the Dark Angels deserve, although it is long overdue and destined to be unknown to outsiders, it is still obtained, and the current Johnson can indeed be said to be in a rare state of ease.

So, of course, Johnson was now happy: his joy was clearly reflected in the subtle curvature at the corners of his mouth, and the Calibans were in a very rare state compared to the gloom of most of his life.

He is happy, not only happy to chat with his brothers, but even willing to take the initiative to start a new topic: if he can do it.

That's rare.

Riemanruth decided to take advantage of it.

"You told me before that you have friends on Holy Terra?"

As he spoke, the Wolf King looked back at the mortal nobles who were gradually moving away.

"They?"

"Any questions?"

Johnson stopped and looked at the brother who was fighting alongside him.

Riemanruth pondered for a moment.

"Do you have a relationship with them? Johnson? ”

"Yes, just like that."

“……”

"And what are your common goals?"

"I don't even know their names: in the Dark Angel Legion, there is someone in charge of this matter, it was Morgan before, and then I decided to leave it to Cothwayne."

"So, will your legion give them any material gifts?"

“……”

"Forget it, when I didn't say it."

Riemanrus shook his head, his frown furrowing and the same expression on Johnson's face.

"What the hell are you trying to say, Riemann."

Hearing this, the wolf king raised his eyebrows and looked at his brother with a strange expression.

"You and they have no common goals, no bonds like us, no alliances of interest on a material basis, and you don't even know their names: you and these mortals are neither like-minded and like-minded people, nor are they partners who stand together for practical interests."

"Where did you get the confidence to call them your friends on Terra?"

“……”

Faced with this question, Johnson was not annoyed, but thought about it very seriously.

Then the Venerable Lord of Caliban replied to his brother with a face of almost identical confidence that resembled that of a certain Lord of Mankind.

"It's true that I haven't seen these mortals too much, and most of them have even been on Terra before I return, but as soon as I give the order, they will fulfill my order: even on Terra."

"So, they're my friends."

“……”

"Who told you that?"

"Morgan: During the previous Apocalypse War, whenever the First Legion had friction with Holy Terra, Morgan would tell me that we could use our friendship with Holy Terra."

“……”

"This is not a friend, Johnson."

Riemannus shook his head.

"Isn't it?"

Johnson was puzzled.

"It's a fucking slave, a minion, a mortal servant, no different from the floor-sweeping guys on your warship: you call them your friends? You don't even know their names! ”

Riemanlus spat on the ground, causing a silent resentment among the Praetorian Guards behind the two primitives.

"Besides, if these people you don't know are your friends."

The wolf king blinked, and a hint of cunning fire flashed through his heart.

"So let's not talk about me or Conrad, let's just talk about Morgan: what is Morgan yours then?"

"Blood relatives."

"What else?"

“…… Besides? ”

Once again, Johnson stopped, his face frozen at the moment the question was raised, a sentiment called confusion that had completely taken over the Caliban's originally resolute eyebrows, and now Johnson, like a native who had just stepped into civilization, was listening to a voice that was completely beyond his previous worldview.

"Morgan ......"

"Morgan is my blood relative, we have always fought side by side, I have always trusted her, just as she trusted me, and I see her as part of a complete First Legion: is there anything else needed?"

"Blood relatives may not be completely trusted, Johnson."

The Wolf King blinked, and there was a hint of bitterness in his smile.

"Like apart from Morgan, Conrad, and me, and a few others, would you trust the rest of the Primordial Body, even as if you were handing over half of the Dark Angel to Morgan, and hand over half of your heirs to any of our brothers to command?"

“……”

Faced with this question, the Calibans thought about it for a moment: only for a moment, and then shook their heads.

"No, I don't think I'll leave the Dark Angel Legion under the command of any outsider except Morgan: even you, Riemann, and especially you."

“……”

"You don't have to add the last sentence just now, thank you."

The Wolf King pouted.

"You see, like I said: Morgan is your blood relative, but her status in your heart and the way you get along with each other is not something that can be summed up by a blood relative, you can specifically summon Morgan for a war that affects the fate of the entire empire, even if it is separated by the entire galaxy, then in your heart, doesn't Morgan have a special title, or status?"

“…… Friend? ”

After a long thought, Johnson tentatively spat out the word, like a baby saying his first words.

Riemannus didn't reply, he grimaced at his blood relatives, and then snuggled his lips at the mortal nobles who were almost disappearing from view.

"Just like them?"

“……”

Now, Johnson did not speak at all.

"Don't tell me, you really haven't thought about it, Johnson."

“……”

"Morgan's relationship with you, at least more than half of your brothers, and far more than your Tyra's friends, she should have a relatively high place in your heart, or to put it bluntly: let's think about it from another angle, if a title represents absolute trust in your heart, then what will that title be?"

“……”

The Lion King frowned, and he began to think from the bottom of his heart.

"Hmm...... Luther? ”

“……”

"That adoptive father of yours?"

"Strictly speaking, Luthor is not my adoptive father, he is my mentor, my mentor and elder of the Order: we do not call each other father and son, but brother."

"Ah, almost: yet, you put Morgan in the same position as Lord Luther, then, what is Morgan to you? Also your elders? Your Knights Mentor? ”

"Or your adoptive mother?"

“……”

"I don't think we should discuss this, Riemann."

Johnson frowned, the last bit of a smile on his face was about to be squandered by the Fenris, and the Wolf King nodded kindly, knowing that if he continued to dig deeper, his brother would be going to turn against him here.

"So what do you think we're talking about? You come up with a topic, Johnson. ”

“……”

Johnson was silent.

His jade-colored pupils began to flicker with countless lights, as if thousands of worlds had been destroyed in the extermination order, as if countless great dynasties had collapsed in the tide of time, and like soldiers who had fallen to the ground in the bloodiest slaughter.

In a nutshell.

He thought hard.

But in the end there was nothing.

“……”

Riemanrus turned his head, and he took the posture he had used to wrestle with his father, and only then did he barely resist the urge for laughter to leak from the corners of his mouth: he didn't want to fight Johnson here.

However, even so, a hint of joy crossed Riemanrus's brow. Because he clearly saw that Johnson was indeed thinking about this issue very seriously, and such a serious gesture had only been seen by the Wolf King on the topic of war before.

Obviously, the wolf king's idea just now was correct.

After witnessing the natural transformation of his Caliban brother in front of the mortal magnates, the Fenris had no reason to believe that his Caliban brother was not as rigid as the world thought.

Johnson will not be a completely cold war machine, and within him everything has a better form of compassion, thinking, tolerance and brotherhood.

Only now, the Calibans have sealed that form: perhaps after a long period of time, the passage of time will change Johnson, but Riemanruth feels that he can't wait that long.

Since Johnson was not a ruthless seed, and Morgan did have a relatively important place in his heart, it was naturally a great and sacred undertaking to use his Avalonian blood as a fulcrum to pry Johnson's not-so-healthy character: at least Riemanrus thought so.

And now it seems that he has taken the first step towards success, hasn't he?

With this joy in his arms, the Wolf King saw Conrad who was rushing towards them in the distance: almost in the next second, the Midnight Ghost had arrived in front of them.

A straight sentence.

"There's something going on at the palace, two, Morgan asked me to come to you."

“……？”

"Something's wrong?"

"Looking for us?"

"Yes."

Conrad nodded.

"She said that a primordial could not handle the situation: useless."

“……！”

"Lead the way."

This time, the Kaliban voice was more decisive.

(End of chapter)