"Steel ...... inside and out"

“……”

"Steel inside and out."

In the cold air, there was a long sigh, which came from the most resilient and unyielding man in the whole galaxy, from the proudest son of the Iron Lord, and from the bright generals who could hold high positions in the two Astarte legions.

“……”

Balabas-Dantioc stood alone in front of his desk made of steel, facing the star map that covered the entire wall, and fell into a long silence: his mood was not as good as the bright sun outside the fortress, and even the temperature of the fortress command room had dropped a little.

The war blacksmith, who had just been promoted for less than a decade, had locked himself in his office for more than two hours, and the noise and noise outside the window told that even without his command, the Iron Warriors were still carrying out their tasks in an orderly manner without the slightest panic: this not only showed the efficiency of his army, but also allowed Dantiok to immerse himself in his own world, hesitating in the confrontation of entanglement and remorse.

In recent years, the youngest war blacksmith has always been like this.

After all: he's doing something wrong.

“……”

After a moment of contemplation, Peturab's heir stepped forward and walked around his desk. Coming to the huge star map, on which was the detailed layout of the entire Salamas star sector, Dantiok's steel-clad fingers continued to grope back and forth on the star map, tapping the names of one world after another, which he knew by heart.

Quart, Saidjets, Calles, Tulabax, Macator, Gulgrad, and the planet of New Khartoum, where they are now, and the Queen's Crown, which surrounds the worlds: Salamas.

…… Salamas ......

The Iron Warrior's hands clenched into fists, gently bumping in the most glorious world on the eastern edge of the galaxy, and at this time, Dantiok's heart was filled with an emotion that should not exist as the heir of Perturabo: that is [pride].

Dantiok was proud, and of course he had the capital to be proud of: not only him, but outside his office, in the midst of this new fortress, in the entire Salamas Star Zone, in the land of every world he had just touched and meditated on, there were countless Iron Warriors who were either struggling to build or were diligently guarding, and they should all be proud of what they had done.

“……”

"For an Olympian, that's really an outrage."

The war blacksmith whispered in a voice that only he could hear, a bitter smile crossed the corners of his mouth, and his fingertips once again delicately crossed every world on the star map: and in most of the worlds, there was a five-pointed star symbol containing a circle, which signified that the world had been fortified and that its planetary fortress was now in good working order.

And this is what Dantioc and his more than 6,000 Iron Warriors have spent years to achieve: they have traveled to every world in the Pearl of the Far East, beside all the civilized cities worth defending, carefully measuring the land, exploring the data, combining local traditions, and uniting the people to create the most perfect defense system in theory, and in those worlds where their own strength is insufficient, they will even leave a certain number of troops to ensure that the fortresses they build can work well.

All of this comes from the order of the Lord of Avalon: a few years ago, when the Salamas Star Sector was gradually incorporated into the administrative jurisdiction of the Human Empire or the Far Eastern Frontier, the Genetic Mother of the Daybreaker specially summoned Dantioc and asked him for one thing: Morgan hoped that Dantioc and the Iron Warriors could go to the Salamas Star Zone to help the people there build a sound defense system, build confidence in the empire in their hearts, and also guard against those extraterritorial darkness, An enemy who may come at any time.

This is a legitimate, and equally honorable task: the war blacksmith certainly has no reason to refuse.

Dantioc remembers that it was during that summons that Morgan gave him the power to recruit new recruits in parts of Salamas's world: at the time, this was just a stopgap measure, after all, Dantioc's men at that time were only a few hundred men, which was a drop in the bucket for the defense of the entire Salamath sector.

But what neither Morgan nor Dantiok expected was that in the past few years, not only had Pentulak paid attention to the situation of his heirs in the Dawnbreaker Legion from time to time, and according to the Iron Lord's own [calculations], he sent reinforcements and certain genetic seeds from time to time, but Dantiok held the genetic seeds sent by Perturabo and the expansion of his and his brothers in the Salamas Star Sector was also unusually smooth.

By the time the War Blacksmith realized that he should stop this trend, the number of Iron Warriors active in the Avalon region had quietly exceeded six thousand.

Or at least six thousand, because Danteok is well aware that sometimes, when the Dawnbreaker and the Iron Warriors act together, something like this happens: the Dawnbreaker conducts a recruitment campaign in the local world in addition to the operation, and successfully selects a few new bloods from hundreds of candidates.

And at this time, the accompanying Iron Warriors often itch when they look at the outstanding candidates who have not been elected: after all, these candidates can be called good seedlings in any legion.

Dantiok was well aware of the thirst for talent among his company commanders or squad leaders, so he was very humane in dividing some of the genetic seeds in his hands, acquiescing to his subordinates to act cheaply when acting alone.

Therefore, how many iron warriors are active in the Avalon region now, in fact, the war blacksmith himself is not very clear in his heart, he is also secretly playing the drums, after all, the iron warriors who are now active in the Salamas star region have their own tasks, and they have not gathered for a long time to count the number of people in a unified manner.

Thinking of this, Dantiok felt a little cold sweat oozing from his hair.

Of course, when facing Morgan, the war blacksmith has always gritted his teeth, that is, six thousand, and for anyone who asks questions other than Morgan, Dantiok will not even ask this question.

After all, he didn't know either.

However, there is one thing, Dantiok can still pat his chest and guarantee it.

Over the years, every Iron Warrior living in the Avalon region has actually devoted himself to these lengthy construction projects, running, sweating, toiling, and even being harmed: together they have created a great feat, and Dantiok certainly does not dare to take this credit alone, and he even doubts from the bottom of his heart whether his so-called merit is more than any of them, and is outside to lay the foundation and measure the data of the battle brothers.

He didn't think so, after all, his fighting brothers were sweating and blood, building the greatest castle in the world with their own hands, and most of his time was spent in the office, dispatching so-called data information, communicating with Avalon or Salamas: despite this, he still had the trust of everyone, and the Iron Warriors loved their war blacksmiths, whether they were veterans from the Fourth Legion or new blood recruited locally, they all regarded Dantiok as a qualified leader.

Frankly, this recognition made Dantiok happier than any meritorious service.

“……”

The war blacksmith of Perturab laughed at this, pride and joy diluting the melancholy that haunted him: in the fifty years since Danteoc had left his native Olympia and enlisted in the Fourth Legion, he had hardly felt such a genuine joy as he had now.

He knew that this was a genuine joy, and it was a simple joy: they were doing the right thing, doing their duty, standing side by side, working with the people of the Human Empire, and watching the fruits of their labor take shape day by day.

Fortresses full of their wisdom and sweat rose from the ground on the most perfect foundations, and were embedded in the last bricks and tiles to the cheers of countless mortals, and every Iron Warrior who joined in the work could proudly engrave his name on the walls of the fortress: for they knew very well that their name would stand with this great fortress, in the praise and gratitude of mortals, to the end of its duty.

In many cases, the mortal craftsmen who worked with them to build the fortress, or the mortal auxiliaries who fought alongside them, would also engrave their names underneath the Iron Warriors: from a distance, it looked like a smaller, stronger fortress had been built on top of an already impregnable fortress.

The war blacksmith had to admit that this was a new kind of architectural knowledge that he had never discovered before.

“……”

Dantiok laughed again, his fingers rubbing over the star chart, whispering to himself what he had been working on.

"Then, after completing the fortress operation on this new Khartoum star, all the civilized worlds in this imperial system are also fully armed, and we can go further north: is it the tax road area?"

"Strictly speaking, I remember that this area is no longer part of the Far Eastern Frontier, but I also remember that we should build fortresses in some of its important worlds, after all, according to the news from further north, Nostramo is already part of the empire, so this tax road is the most important passage between Nostramo and Salamas, and it is true that several fortresses should be built on it for insurance purposes."

“……”

"It's in this world, its location looks extraordinarily important, hmm......"

"Chaguarsa."

The war blacksmith's fingers tapped on a world that had never been noticed, and he slid north to the shadows of Nostramo, and to the south, to Salamas, and as he made his way to the darker regions to the east, a Ulan Huda, marked in the redlidest handwriting, was in the center of the circle that united the three worlds.

"That's pretty much it."

The War Blacksmith nodded.

"The combined forces of His Excellency Morgan and His Excellency Conrad are in the Nostramo region, and will soon pass through Chaguarza to the south, and they may use it as a starting point for their crusade against Ulanhurda: if we continue to build a fortress northward, we may join them at Chaguarsa, I have not seen His Excellency Morgan for a long time."

"That's right, this time I can go and thank her for the gift she sent last time."

“……”

The war blacksmith touched his aching neck, the pain of a long office, and he thought about something in silence, but the sound of children's laughter outside the room interrupted Dantioc's long musings.

Perturabo's heir frowned almost instinctively, but soon, he shook his head with a wry smile and didn't bother, although according to the tradition of the Fourth Legion, when they were building a fortress, let alone the children of these mortals, they wouldn't even allow any mortals to watch from the side of the fortress.

But now, the situation is a little different: not only is the construction site filled with a large number of mortals who even volunteered to help, but even on the hills outside the construction site, there are many children who look at these behemoths with curious eyes, and the daring ones even dare to run to the side of the Astarte warriors, touch the incomparably cold armor, and observe these unheard of giants with looking up eyes.

After all, since a long time ago, the number of recruits recruited in Avalon has far outnumbered the veterans from the Fourth Legion: the ratio is about five to one, and these Iron Warriors recruited locally in the Far Eastern Frontier will never rudely drive away the children of mortals, they will at most keep these children away from a safe distance.

Dantioc had tried to persuade them to obey the Iron Warriors' ancient laws, but in exchange for the confused eyes of these new bloods, and the war blacksmith could not say anything: after all, in addition to these soft-hearted bad things, these young men from the Far Eastern Frontier were indeed the best recruits, good seedlings that the Iron Warrior Legion had not seen in a long time, and they were not even qualified to recruit such good recruits before.

Not to mention......

The war blacksmith breathed deeply: he didn't get angry even when he thought about these trivial troubles.

After so long on the Far Eastern frontier, with the cheers of mortals, with so many fortresses of their dreams built, it is difficult for even the most taciturn veterans of the Iron Warriors to commit any more violent acts as they did during the Fourth Legion: both the war blacksmith and his old men seem to have fallen into a rather strange peace of mind.

Although each of them knew that this wonderful scene would not last long, and that they would eventually return to the Legion of Language, to the ancient laws of the Fourth Legion, at least, now, no one was willing to take the initiative to bring up this painful reality to break the wonderful time that everyone had been silent.

The same goes for Dantiok.

“……”

The war blacksmith smiled wryly as he looked at the items on his desk: in addition to the necessary office supplies, there were only three additional personal items.

The first is a letter from the father of his genes: Perturabo recounts the recent battles and victories of the Fourth Legion, and tells Dantiok not to lose face in the Legion of the Dawnbreaker, and very casually mentions Morgan's praise for Dantiok and the other Iron Warriors in his letters.

War Blacksmith could feel that his father must have been in a good mood when he wrote this letter, and in the heart of his genetic father, the trust in Dantiok must have made most Iron Warriors jealous: but despite this, War Blacksmith still had to face this letter with a wry smile.

After all, almost every time, the war blacksmith would raise his pen, put a decimal point on the casualty rate behind those [victories], and then pass it on to the iron warriors of Avalon: this became a secret by the old people, a fig leaf erected for the original body in front of the new people.

“……”

Originally, this was nothing, but if you look at it together with the item next to it......

The War Blacksmith's gaze drifted, and he looked at the four rings on the table: these were the rings of the company commanders in the Dawnbreaker Legion, which only the commanders of each company had the right to have, symbolizing their own management of a company: and the ones on Danteok's table were forty-six to forty-nine.

There were no four companies in the Dawnbreaker Legion, and when Morgan handed over the four rings to the War Blacksmith, the Genogen didn't say anything, but the War Blacksmith knew very well what the Lord of Avalon wanted to say.

And this, too, is his concern, which is why he had to keep these four rings.

After all, the war blacksmith knew very well: he was going to return to the Fourth Legion one day, but the new blood of Avalon outside the house, the legion recruits they had personally selected to fight alongside them, and all the knowledge of the genetic prototype was covered up by the veterans and kept in the dark.

Are they going back too?

Do they have to endure it too, the real Fourth Legion?

They......

Isn't it really going to make trouble?

……

Whatever the course of events, it is certainly not something that these recruits can afford.

But what did these recruits do wrong: they were just a bunch of good boys who had done their duty, defended their conscience, and had unrealistic fantasies about their original bodies.

“……”

He glanced at the rings again.

The reason why the war blacksmith chose to take the rings from Morgan's hand was for the sake of the new blood: he must leave a way out for the good boys.

……

And for some other people, some of his old friends, give protection.

The war blacksmith smiled wryly, and he saw the third item on the table.

It was a death notice, a notice of death to be mailed to Perturabo about the Iron Warriors who had died in battle in the Far Eastern Frontier.

“……”

War, the blacksmith hooked the corners of his lips.

To be honest, after so many years, there have been several batches of reinforcements sent by the Fourth Legion one after another, and the total number of people is more than a thousand: although in the eyes of the Iron Lord, these more than a thousand soldiers have now been killed and wounded, but the war blacksmith knows very well that the number of people who really died in battle is probably not even fifty.

But so what?

Over the years, the death notice he signed, and he vouched for his position in his father's heart, and the number of confirmed casualties has exceeded 500.

“……”

Of course they are not dead, they are even alive and well, enjoying the cheers of mortals in the various worlds of the Salamas Star Sector, building the fortress of their dreams, and serving the empire as much as possible with their own contributions: not in the senseless war, to become that meaningless number.

Frankly, when the first old fellow came to the war blacksmith, cautiously eager to become a Fallen Person, Dantiok wasn't really surprised in his heart: in fact, he had already expected such a situation.

He just didn't expect that after setting a precedent, the [number of casualties] would be like an avalanche, completely uncontrollable, and even the reinforcements who arrived one after another turned a blind eye to this, and many people even happily joined the [death list] after building a castle on the Far Eastern frontier for a few years.

The Lord of Steel, who was far away in the sky, was satisfied with this sacrifice.

“……”

Dantiok smiled wryly, he didn't even know what to say: the fire of deceiving the genogen boiled in his heart, it was the most instinctive pain of Astarte, but in that tormented heart, the war blacksmith already had his own stubbornness.

Thereupon.

He took the piece of paper, another deception of the genetic protoplasm.

It's incredibly painful.

It's time to put pen to paper.

First it was a name he was very familiar with, and it was still alive today, and then it was at the bottom, as a confirmer, Dantiok's own name.

The war blacksmith writes skillfully, he has signed countless such lists, signed his name countless times.

“……”

He could only hope for one thing.

He could only hope that he would stick to his name at the bottom.

(End of chapter)