"What do you think we should do with Killiman's position?"

[Do not dispose of. 】

"What do you mean?"

[Literal meaning: Zhao'an entered the court, the old leader was blocked, recognized the title, and governed the territory, pulling him from a semi-independent career establishment into the orthodox administrative establishment of the human empire. 】

“…… Let's be clear. ”

[Chief Administrator of the Great Otrama Special Administrative Region, Chairman of the Provisional Military Committee of the Great Otrama Expeditionary Military Region, Protector of the citizens of the entire Great Otrama Zone, and Archon of Maculag, and temporary regent of the surrounding galaxies: Granted by the Human Emperor himself, he has the privilege of being the Governor of the Council of Terra for all the imperial worlds in the Grand Otrama and the entire expeditionary fleet. 】

“……”

"The title is long."

[That's true.] 】

"There's very little content."

[As it should be. 】

"Flashy."

[That's it.] 】

“……”

"Don't you think Killyman won't be angry?"

[No, he'll just breathe a sigh of relief.] 】

“……”

"You still don't understand politics, Morgan."

[I don't know politics: but I don't know Killiman either, do I? 】

Morgan chuckled.

[And I, know him.] 】

[I'm pretty sure that's what Killiman wants. 】

“……”

Makado looked up, trying to suppress the confusion in his pupils.

He glanced at Morgan, and the movement of cutting the meat steak in his hand also stopped: in the Terra Palace, there is undoubtedly the most outstanding team of waiters in the entire galaxy, and in just three minutes of silence between the palm prints and the genetic protogen, these servants who are not on call can appear silently, quickly clear the table between the two, arrange all the meals delicately, and then quietly exit the room.

It's as if they never existed.

And the dazzling array of delicacies on the table, at this moment, seemed to be the gifts of those little goblins in the forest, and appeared on the table unconsciously: but these delicacies that were enough to exceed the sky-high price in Terra's nest capital were no different from ordinary sand in the eyes of the two diners at this time.

After all, neither Machado nor Morgan are greedy people: the Spider Queen just likes souls and snacks, and she is still very harsh on herself when it comes to daily diet, after all, she can't rely on psionic energy to maintain her figure and weight every time.

Relatively speaking, the Dawnbreaker's genetic protogenone prefers to persevere in improving the quality of food in the Legion rather than allowing himself to indulge in appetite, striving to make one of the lowest-ranking servants of the Dawnbreaker Legion eat more nutritious and healthy than the nobles on Terra.

This is no joke: at Morgan's behest, the Second Legion conducts regular physical and mental health checks on its auxiliaries and mortal auxiliaries, and each Legion ships are staffed with standard dietitians, and even in the core systems of the Far Eastern Frontier, there are agricultural worlds dedicated to the genetic protogen, which grow fresh fruits and vegetables in the traditional way, and the products are only rationed to the army.

What's more, the Daybreaker's genogen actually enjoys cooking herself, which is one of the ways she kills her time: she doesn't like to eat her own food, though, and instead randomly selects the Daybreaker or the mortal soldiers who were particularly good in the last battle, invites them to a dinner party, and awards them medals after the dinner.

In the eyes of the Lord of Avalon, this is a time-honored, private, and proven reward: it has proven to be very effective.

What's more, it is indeed a sense of accomplishment to watch the food you cook be eaten with gratitude from the diners: Morgan once showed off her craft to Conrad while watching Virgo clean up the plate for this reason.

And in the face of the pride of his blood relatives, Midnight Ghost just responded coldly.

——————

"I think you're raising pigs."

——————

Morgan was not angry.

……

It's true.

——————

It only dawned on her that Conrad hadn't had the love of his sister for a long time, and there was no doubt that the Midnight Ghost longed for this long-lost love.

So, his wish was granted.

Everyone was satisfied.

The only fly in the ointment is that after cleaning up the leftovers of the dinner party, the Virgo has to clean the entire banquet hall from top to bottom.

But despite this, the banquet hall was put on hold for a week to dissipate the smell of blood.

——————

[Your Excellency: Do you think there is anything wrong with this official position?] 】

“……”

"It's not a big deal."

The Palm Printer lowered his head and began his mechanical eating again, only to see him cut the steak with some invisible regularity, put it in his mouth, and chew slowly.

"Originally, in my discussion with the emperor, the official position I gave to Gilliman is actually not fundamentally different from the one you say, except that mine is more streamlined, and it also gives him some actual power."

[You shouldn't have done this: Killiman, who sits on five hundred worlds, is already an ambitious man in everyone's mouth, and if you give him some more actual power, I can't imagine what his reputation will be. 】

"So what do you think is the merit of your title?"

[Complex, fancy, flashy. 】

"Is this a plus?"

[In the case of mortal politics: it is indeed a merit.] 】

“……”

This time, it was the turn of the Palm Sealer to remain silent.

"Tell me, what are the advantages of it?"

【……】

Morgan glanced at Machado, then absentmindedly picked up a banana from the beautiful fruit bowl beside him, put it in his mouth and chewed it: she didn't believe that the famous palm printer didn't even know this bit of common sense, this was just another test for Machado.

So, the Lord of Avalon decided to answer in his own way.

[You know what, Palm Printer? 】

[The king is the four letters (king). 】

[Earl, it's five letters (count). 】

[Governor is, eight letters (Governor.] 】

[Minister, also eight letters (minister).] 】

[Ordinary bureaucrats, but they need ten letters (bureaucrat).] 】

[At the lower level, the governor can only manage a city, which requires eleven letters (City prefect).] 】

Morgan spread out his hand and spat out this long series of words incoherently, and his tongue hidden between his mouths moved like a snake, crushing the banana in his mouth little by little in the interval between long speeches, and not a single bit of puree stuck to his teeth.

[You see, the so-called politics is such a trick: the real ruler only needs the shortest title to declare his authority, only the weak will care, the strong are all grabbing their own things at will, and some of the losses caused by carelessness will not be put into their eyes at all. 】

[Just as I cherish the lives of those mortal auxiliaries under my command, in every memorable battle, the civilian officials under my command still have to sign hundreds of thousands, millions, or even more death notices. 】

[But even so, the Dawnbreaker Legion still has the lowest casualty rate among all the Astarte Legions: even the Salamanders and Ultramarines are inferior to us in this regard.] 】

"I know about it."

On the opposite side of the table, the palm printmaker suddenly interjected, he nodded, swallowed the piece of meat he was chewing, and decided to develop the topic with interest.

"How did you do it: In my previous understanding, the Ultramarines and their mortal auxiliaries could have been seamlessly coordinated, but your legion has outdone him in this regard."

"By what: is your mortal auxiliaries stronger?"

[Indeed. 】

The Lord of Avalon nodded.

[My mortal auxiliaries are stronger: Because in Otlama, mortal auxiliaries are only mortal auxiliaries after all, while in Avalon, they are used and respected as the main force of the same level as Astarte, and they are also required to become as powerful as Astarte. 】

“……”

"Can they do that?"

Machado's question, as a mortal, made Morgan, who was a proto, raise his brow a little amused: So, the Spider Empress inserted a juicy steak and chewed it slowly, while spitting a word triumphantly at Machado.

[One mortal will be tortured and killed by one Astarte, ten mortals will be easily solved by ten Astarte, a hundred mortals may temporarily block a hundred Astarte, but if it is thousands of mortal warriors, it may not be able to compete with thousands of Astarte. 】

[Never underestimate those mortals. 】

"I'm mortal, Morgan."

[But you're underestimating them: not even as good as me, the genetic proto. 】

“……”

Morgan's body leans forward.

[Seriously, Palm Sealer: How long has it been since you stepped on the front lines of war to witness what kind of will those mortal warriors can burst out of desperation and blood?] 】

[Always watching the war report, instead of experiencing the cruelty of war yourself, will make you regard human life as useless data, and will make you take noble sacrifices for granted: as a result, you will become cruel and ruthless, arrogant and stupid, and become ...... like just now]

[Ridiculous. 】

“……”

A white light flickered in the palm print's pupils, and he didn't pursue the question, but the action of cutting the meat chops on the plate became a little hesitant and rough.

"The emperor made the right choice."

The Palm Seal suddenly came to such a sentence without a beginning or an end, and just as Morgan was puzzled by this, he spoke again.

"Let's talk about Killiman."

[Of course.] 】

Morgan nodded, squeezing the glass full of champagne.

[What do you want to ask?] 】

"What do those titles you gave Gilliman mean?"

[Like I said, admit the existing facts.] 】

Morgan took a sip of his wine.

[The so-called Great Otrama Administrative Prefecture or Grand Otrama Expeditionary Region, in the final analysis, is just another way of saying the Five Hundred Worlds, and since the Five Hundred Worlds are already in Killiman's pocket, why don't we just push the boat down the river?] 】

"In the official tone of the Empire, to recognize Killiman's rule over Otlama?"

[After all, the Empire has never officially approved the Five Hundred Worlds in any written form: although we all know that this is to avoid suspicion, but in terms of Killiman's character, this must be a thorn in his heart, and he is absolutely happy to see the Empire pull this thorn out with his own hands.] 】

[Even if it is a small price, such as this will limit the expansion of the Otlama region into the interior of the empire in disguise, Killiman is absolutely willing to accept it.] 】

[To the Empire, this title is noble and flashy enough to sound imposing, but in reality it only acknowledges Gilliman's established rule over the five hundred worlds, and we don't need to pay anything extra.] 】

[And for Killiman, it is enough that he can be sure that his rule over the five hundred worlds is backed by the laws of the Empire: my brother Otrama is probably the only one of all the primordials who enshrines the laws of the Empire, and even Dorne is not as pedantic as he is. 】

The Palm Printmaker nodded, then picked up his glass of champagne.

"Then why don't you just name Killiman as the governor of the Greater Otrama region, but divide his powers into special administrative districts, and the Provisional Military Council, and special governors?"

[Because they were going to be separated.] 】

Morgan spread his hands.

[The establishment of administrative districts is to determine where the borders of the five hundred worlds are, which is a matter of great concern to both the Empire and Killiman, as for the so-called Provisional Military Council, and titles like Provisional Regent......]

The genogen smiled.

[We all know that although it sounds temporary, as long as the Great Expedition is not over for a day, these [temporary] will never come to an end, and it is impossible for Killiman not to understand this truth. 】

[Moreover, the administrative power of the localities can certainly be given, but the military power of the Great Expedition can only be temporary. 】

[As for all the worlds and expeditionary fleets of the Governor's Five Hundred Worlds, all the worlds and expeditionary fleets there were originally the property of the Ultramarines Legion, and everything was just a matter of pushing the boat and admitting the facts. 】

[But it sounds like it's a huge and complex set of titles, and it's powerful: even if it's compared to the commander, it's not inferior.] 】

“……”

The shriveled cheeks of the palm printmaker moved one by one, and he nodded, agreeing with many of Morgan's statements.

"One last question."

"Why the Great Otlama, and not the five hundred worlds commonly used by the Empire?"

【……】

The genogen glanced at the palm printmaker and chuckled.

[Don't you worry, Killiman will analyze with you in the future, what does the world mean in Maculag: you must know that at the beginning, the five hundred worlds were just five hundred worlds, and there were even uninhabited planets, but now, the five hundred worlds are already five hundred core civilization worlds covering various resource points. 】

[In this way, in Maculag's dictionary, there may be a synonym for world and star: my brother Maculag is not ambitious, but he does love to play with words.] 】

“……”

Makado furrowed an eyebrow. Drink the champagne from the glass.

"In the political sphere, this is tantamount to suicide: I don't think your Makulag brother would be so apolitically aware, he is a very good politician."

[This is your fault. 】

Morgan grinned, smiling.

[You have to make one thing clear, my honorable Lord Machado: Gilliman was never a statesman, he lacked the ruthlessness to do whatever it took to get the end, he lacked the heart of dirty cruelty, he lacked the shamelessness to smile in the face of the most extreme offenses. 】

[He is a reckless man, how can a politician be a reckless man?] 】

[He was not a statesman, he was not even a politician, he was just a very good administrator: he may have a little bureaucratic and pedantic, but his so-called political sense was terrible low, and his ideals and nature were purer than those of the legendary philosopher-king. 】

[A true politician, a guy who has really annihilated his conscience and face, and lives only for his own interests, there is indeed one in the original body: now, she is sitting in front of you, discussing with you those dirty political dramas in the empire. 】

“……”

The Palm Printmaker was silent.

Neither angry nor dismayed, Machado put down his empty glass, raised his hand and snapped his fingers, and the flask next to him rose and filled with fragrant champagne again.

"That's why you think Killiman would be content with such a title?"

[Pretty much it: Specifically, Killiman doesn't want any title at all, and even the title we bestowed, he will only accept it for the benefit of Macurag, not for his own glory.] 】

"And what does he want?"

【……】

The genogen blinked, and she hesitated rarely.

[Retirement? 】

“……”

"Ah, what a great ideal."

Machado nodded, his tone sincere.

[Who's to say it isn't: it's really a great universal idea.] 】

Morgan shrugged her shoulders, she reached out and forked the cheese ham on her plate, carefully balancing the condensed milk on top, and then slowly lifted it up and placed it next to Visenya's mouth.

The indifferent maid hesitated for a moment: she first glanced at the deaf palm printman opposite, and then carefully opened her mouth and took her mother's feeding.

【How does it taste?】 】

"It's not as good as you did, Mother."

[Of course, when we return to Avalon, I will personally cook you a cheese ham, and it will be delicious.] 】

Morgan smiled at his daughter's bulging cheeks and scratched the soft flesh rolling on her jaw in satisfaction.

"I still have a backlog of work in the legal department in Avalon, mother."

[Let it go, stay with me for a while: I haven't seen you for a long time, I miss you a lot. 】

"Yes, Mother."

“……”

Machado looked at the scene in front of him and chewed expressionlessly.

For a moment, he tried his best to transform the scene in front of him into the emperor and his genetic prototype: any genetic prototype would do.

Unfortunately, such an attempt soon failed.

“……”

What is he crazy about......

“……”

Forget it, what does this have to do with him?

Eat and eat.

Then again: pangasius fried with lemon juice today was a bit overdone.

Well.

Slightly sour.

——————

“……”

One more thing.

This girl is definitely not born to that bastard of the Apocalypse.

Absolutely, it won't be.

——————

"So, we've settled Killiman?"

[Don't be too happy, Killyman is not the hardest one: Or, in any matter about the Primordial, Killyman is not the hardest one.] 】

"Not necessarily: when Terra needs to cut off the nations within the nations, I'm sure Killiman will be the most difficult one, and his five hundred worlds deserve that evaluation."

[No, no, no. 】

Morgan shook her head, her face grim.

[There is an option that is more difficult than Killiman.] 】

"What is it?"

[My alliance with Killiman. 】

“……”

Grass.

Truly.

The palm print's brow jumped.

……

"Then who do you think is difficult above Killiman?"

[Hmm......]

The genoplasm thought for a moment.

Johnson, Mortarian, Roga, and Ferus of Possibility. 】

"Is it possible?"

[Meaning: If Ferus realizes that the position of war commander is not suitable for him and gives up the war commander election, then he will also see this problem and have no desire. 】

"And if Ferus is not selected for the coach without realizing this, then there is a possibility that there is a stubbornness in his heart, or even a radical thought, which will affect the topic we are discussing now?"

The Iron Hand is like this. 】

“……”

Makado nodded, but he quickly frowned again.

"Isn't there Peturabo?"

[Nope.] 】

The palm print's eyes lit up.

"Do you have a solution to Perturabo?"

【…… Nor did it. 】

Morgan seemed honest, and she was busy feeding her daughter.

[You're asking me about the difficult ones in the original body: and the difficulty means that there is at least a solution, but Perturabo has no solution to this problem. 】

“…… No solution? ”

[Of course.] 】

Morgan snorted.

[However, if you can convince the Emperor not to appoint Dorn as Terra's Praetorian Guard, I have a way to deal with Perturabo: but can you do that, Palm Sealer?] 】

[Emperor, can you solve it?] 】

“……”

Machado blinked.

"Let's talk about how to solve Peturabo."

[Listen up.] 】

Morgan raised his hand, looking like he wasn't going to speak out on his own initiative.

“……”

The Palm Seal began to meditate.

"Hmmm......"

"Chief Engineer of the Empire, how's it going?"

[Do you want to ignore Perturabo's countless contributions to the war and see him as a mason who can only go around the construction site: why can Dorn build the walls of the royal palace on the glorious Terra, while Perturabo can only build a square for a group of uncivilized paupas in a remote world?] 】

“……”

"In that case, how about the Director of Military Construction of the Human Empire?"

[Again: once again, you ignore Perturabo's love for the Great Library and the Ancient Greek Theater, and only want to use his wisdom as a machine to wage war, either shedding blood on the front lines or building beautiful lands into fortresses filled with steel and dust, and you are always destroying the little aesthetics and love of the world that Perturabo has left. 】

“……”

"You're raising the bar with me, Morgan?"

[Don't dare.] 】

Morgan smiled.

[I'm just giving you a real taste of Peturabo's enthusiasm?] 】

“……”

"You're saying that if I made such an arrangement, he would respond to me like this."

[Nope.] 】

Morgan shook his head.

[You know, my brother Olympia is a man of action, and he doesn't just sit in the chair across from you and whine like I do: don't you wonder why there are so many fearlessness in the Iron Warrior Legion? 】

“……”

"Solar Praetorian Guard: Dorn can only be responsible for the construction and garrison of the Holy Terra world, while Perturabo can be responsible for the construction and garrison of the entire solar star field, whether it is military buildings or civilian buildings, he chooses by himself."

[Why is Dorn in charge of Holy Terra, and Perturabo and the Iron Warriors can only give him a hand in the worlds around Holy Terra: Do you think that the Fourth Legion can only be surrounded by the Seventh Legion?] 】

“……”

#玛卡多的沉默#

“……”

The Palm Printmaker breathed heavily, and Morgan could hear him gritting his teeth.

"And what about the Terra Praetorian Guard, let Peturabo take this position."

[Huh?! 】

Morgan's monster screamed.

[How dare you suppress Perturabo in the land of Holy Terra, a land far from the front lines of the Great Expedition, and let Dorn and the other legions expand the territory for humanity in the Great Expedition, while Perturabo can only eat ashes on Holy Terra: Are you despising the countless honors that the Iron Warriors have laid down with blood, sacrifice, and sweat over the past few decades? 】

“……”

Machado narrowed his eyes.

After almost crushing the somewhat old teeth, he fell into a certain kind of tranquility: the palm printman sat down quietly, picked up the glass of champagne, and took a sip again.

"You know what: Peturabo has a very good impression on me."

Morgan snorted.

[This is normal: if Johnson and I don't need to continue to work together, I would be willing to say a few kind words for his continued struggle in the shadow of the Empire.] 】

[If I need to continue working with it: I just want to slaughter it, peel it off its skin, use it as my mattress, and hang its head next to my dining table.] 】

“……”

There was silence again.

Macado put down the empty glass in his hand once more.

"So, you really don't have any idea about Peturabo?"

【……】

[There is one, but it takes ...... to set up this position]

"Courage?"

[Courage. 】

"Oh."

Machado sighed.

"That's not good."

“…… Forget it, you ...... Let's talk about it. ”

Morgan blinked.

[Your Excellency, I don't know if you sometimes think that there is actually a lack of a person in the original body who can supervise and punish other original bodies: the chief inspector of the Great Expedition, or the chief justice?] 】

“……”

"Peturabo?"

[Yes.] 】

"Inspector?"

[Literally.] 】

"Above the original?"

[Just tell him private.] 】

"Qualified to punish other primitives?"

He may not use this power. 】

“…… Maybe? ”

【……】

[Probably?] 】

“……”

Machado had a stiff face, his face was very stiff, and the eyelids of only one eye were constantly beating, like a frog eager to escape under the gaze of a poisonous snake.

"Oh, the Emperor is above."

After a while, he muttered to himself.

"It's a real need...... A little bit of boldness. ”

(End of chapter)