“…… Alas......"

#午夜幽魂式叹息#

"Tell me, Sai: How do you understand the idea of building friendships?"

"Hmm...... In the past, when I was in Nostramo, I would give the unused swag or loot to the rest of the gang so that they wouldn't stumble over me and solve a lot of problems on a daily basis: every gang member I knew did this, especially the bosses and godfathers at the top of the gang, who were always the most generous. ”

"They tell me that this is called friendship: keep you strong and fierce, and then give away to others what you have and are willing to give up, whether it is a treasure or a help, and then receive an invisible thank you from others, or an equal return, and in the long run, they will become your friends and will be willing to die for you."

"This is the friendship I know: I have seen it used to build empires in the dark"

“……”

#午夜幽魂式沉默#

That's called selling stolen goods...... Wrong! That's called buying people's hearts...... It's not right, you're selling stolen goods and buying people's hearts by the way!

Conrad grinned, absent-mindedly scratching the roots of his teeth: Midnight Wraith had felt a tooth ache for the first time since his conversation with the Emperor on the Holy Terra, a kind of emergency reaction for the Eighth Legion's protogenitor when he had a premonition of disaster.

This time, though, things looked a little worse: the damned prophecy in his mind had once again revealed his instability, and Midnight Wraith had no idea what his son was doing here.

Conrad could only sigh in his heart: This so-called prophecy is really as unreliable as it is, and I'm afraid that only the stupidest race will pin their fate on this thing, right?

That's right, the kind of stupid fool who would blow up his home planet and civilization, his empire and his galaxy.

Thinking so, a smile appeared on Conrad's face, and he turned his head sideways and spat out the unchewed peel: he was also a genetic protogen, and before Sevita could react to what was going on, Midnight Ghost had already stabilized his mind and thought about what to do next.

But until then......

Isn't this an ingenious quiz?

Test his ability to play on the spot?

At that moment, Conrad remembered what Morgan had called the "Provisional Test": although he used to hate this word very much, but now that he thinks about it, it is really a wonderful word, and it is worth promoting throughout the Legion......

The original body smiled, and the Sevita in front of him was already serious, the darkness in the forest illuminated Conrad's eyes, and the whispers of the other battle brothers around him allowed the Raven Prince to start his thoughts more calmly.

"I did something wrong, father?"

“…… No, the responsibility is on me, Sai. ”

"Really...... It looks like I've done something wrong. ”

“……”

After spending three seconds lamenting how his cub could be so good, Conrad lowered his head and gave his crow prince a good-natured, yet somewhat mocking, smile.

"So, what are you going to do?"

In the face of the Father of Genes' inquiry, Sevita first lowered his head and glanced at the disembowelment delivery van not far away: in the Dawnbreaker Legion, or any Astarte Legion, this was just a mediocre standard delivery van, and he didn't expect it to involve anything big.

However, considering that his genetic father had previously allowed him to use the car for his own sake, and now that he had caused a big disaster, the mistake must have been that the Raven Prince glanced over the two genetic primitives in the middle of the square.

Is one of them involved......

But what do they have to do with tortillas? Or is there really a genoplasm that can eat enough carbohydrates to choke three squads?

Riemannus is not here again......

Muttering to himself, Sevita just blinked, then looked up and responded to his father in an affirmative tone.

"I'll ...... Distribute it. ”

"Distribution?"

Conrad sounded like laughing, but Sevita nodded firmly.

"Yes: It's only distributed to a dozen or so combat brothers who are taking turns to rest, which is a little biased: there are also a dozen combat brothers who are standing guard, and I should treat them equally, so I will distribute things to those Ultramarines......"

"Ultramarine?"

Midnight Ghost's voice was flirtatious.

“…… and the Dawnbreaker. ”

"Especially the Dawnbreaker: I'll hand over Lord Lana's share."

Sevita blinked.

Good: at least, he knew it was the big man who was angry.

If it's Morgan, though......

"Father."

Sevita lowered her voice, a few hints of anticipation squeezing through his throat.

"I've heard from them that Lord Avalon doesn't have a very ...... personality Is it soft? ”

"Perhaps, this was originally the nighttime supplies she sent us, maybe?"

The Raven Prince hesitated: of course he knew that his thoughts were a little whimsical, but then he thought that among those legions and even mortals, there were rumors about the Lord of Avalon: this only female primordial was not only kind and kind, but also treated her own children and the warriors of the other legions with the same courtesy, and if it were her, it was not impossible for her to do such a thing.

“……”

"Listen to me, Sai: Imagination is never your forte."

After hearing Sevita's conjecture, Conrad only raised his eyebrows and forcibly suppressed the corners of his mouth, making the muscles of his cheeks appear a little stiff, maintaining an eerie posture between seriousness and smiling.

In this way, the Midnight Ghost was silent for a moment before snorting, bending down and patting the Raven Prince's shoulder, with an inexplicable pathos in his tone.

"Okay, just do as you say."

Conrad licked his lips.

"After the distribution, don't forget to find a better place to hide it."

"Don't worry, father."

Sevita swears by it.

"When the little girl found me, I took her with me and hid the wagon in a secret place, and now it is only necessary to put it back again: I can assure you that it is a safe, stable, great, seamless, unobtrusive, brilliant place where no one but me can find it."

"That's good."

Conrad nodded, he was satisfied with the solution proposed by Sevita: since the problem had arisen, it was a nostalgic and nostramo-style solution to pull as many people into the water as possible and spread the cost of the mistake.

Dead Friends and Dead Poor Friends: Great solution ideas, love comes from Midnight Ghosts.

As for the consequences: anyway, with the face of his Midnight Ghost, Morgan can't cut Sevita into slices and eat it with salt, so it's a big deal to mortgage his Sevita to Morgan for a while, be an attendant military attache by her side or something, and let him learn Morgan's methods and wisdom, so that he can take over Conrad's class in the future.

……

That's a great idea!

Thinking of this, the genetic protogens of the Eighth Legion glanced boredly at the location he had booked with Tarasin: for some reason, that damn space necro was obviously late, perhaps because the vigilance inside Hera's fortress was more than they had originally expected.

But that wasn't Conrad's concern now, because behind him, he vaguely heard the people at the banquet looking for him, the departed genotype: he had been gone a little too long.

"Go ahead: remember to stuff the Daybreakers a little more, they have immunity."

"Also, first of all, make sure that the hiding spot you are talking about is reliable: no matter what you are doing, or, especially when it comes to delicate tasks like remedying mistakes, you must determine your back and hole cards before you act."

"Remember: a timely escape is greater than a crushing victory, race."

With a wave of his hand, as if he had taught his own offspring, Conrad turned away in Sevita's respectful voice: he did not notice that when his crow prince went to check the hidden place as he had instructed, the direction in which Sevita was heading seemed to be the same as the direction Conrad had just observed......

Amazing consistency.

As for Conrad himself, he was halfway through, muttering in his heart the promise of the Raven Prince.

Well, a safe, stable, great, seamless ......

Hiss......

How can this sentence be so familiar?

——————

"Because it's special."

"Because it's so special, so special that you only need to border him once, and I still remember it."

When asked by Ms. Judon why he was so familiar with his dark-haired brother, in front of Conrad and Morgan, Killeman could only squeeze out a sincere smile on his face as much as possible.

Although the smile was even a little dark and terrifying under the stiff skin and the light, Conrad looked very comfortable: he even laughed a few times in response to his Otrama brothers.

"Yes, the first time I met Robert, I still remember it well."

When Midnight Wraith's lips spat out the affectionate nickname "Robert", his tongue rubbed against his teeth ambiguously, successfully causing goosebumps under Killiman's earlobe: the light of the light made this precious scene perfectly captured by Midnight Wraith's pupils.

But this scene, Lady Judon could not see, compared to the two genetic prototypes, she was still too short, lack the height to be able to observe facial details, so the adoptive mother of the Lord of Macurag, relieved and bold, in the sound of Killman's increasingly rapid breathing, slowly approached the pale face of the primordial, and observed the midnight ghost with some curiosity: the adoptive mother of the primordial had heard of this man before, although he and his Eighth Legion could be described as infamous.

But in reality......

"The feeling you gave me told me that you are a very polite man, Mr. Conrad."

"Of course: I am one of the most cultivated sons of the Lord of Mankind"

Yutun raised his head and said his conclusion very seriously, while the pale Genogen grinned and agreed with her conclusion very seriously: behind them, only the silent Lord of Avalon, and the Makulag who bowed their heads, fell into an unusually awkward silence.

Killiman coughed, his voice like a barely suppressed cry, mixed with a trembling voice amused by the ridiculous words: Or rather, bitter laughter to tears?

But Conrad didn't have time to notice the small difference, for he soon discovered one thing: his prophecy had deceived him in many things, but in one thing it was very true.

That is: the adoptive mother of Killiman in front of him is indeed a very courageous figure.

Well, from a mortal point of view.

After all, Conrad thought that he was a little deterrent: but the man, who had just received a little good look from him, came up with a smile on his face, took his hand, and put on an old ...... that wanted to sit down with him and have a good talk Old lady.

Isn't it a little too courageous?

Look at the mortal bureaucrats, they avoid me: learn from them!

“！！！”

That's enough! Don't come closer!

“……”

Instinctively, Conrad wanted to shake off the Judden lady's hand, but he soon felt the disapproving gaze from Morgan, and the naked menacing gaze from Killiman: the Lord of Maculag's pupils blaze like a torch, telling his brother unmistakably that if he dared to make a rough move, the dagger of sincerity would be unsheathed in the next second.

Conrad hesitated.

Then, he crouched down, trying to make himself look as kind as possible, and listened to the side knock in the mouth of the mortal woman in front of him: this Lady Yudon asked about his relationship with his legion, and asked about the current situation and future of Nostramo, and between the lines, didn't she just want to inquire about how Nostramo and Avalon got along, so as to deduce the relationship between the Five Hundred Worlds and the Far Eastern Frontier.

The troubles and thoughts of mortals are so easy to guess and boring.

#午夜幽魂式嘲讽#

If it weren't for the fact that he had the two blood brothers behind him who were smiling at each other and frowning when they faced him, he would have dared to talk to this Lady Judon here: who cares that you Maculags are worried about the lack of a firm bond with Avalon?

There's a kind of you matching these two hypocritical guys behind me: it's clear that they are the ones in charge.

Conrad only felt his cheeks stiffen a little, and after hearing Lady Judon babble about thirty words, Midnight Wraith clearly sensed something: on the outskirts of the banquet square, there seemed to be a cold metal machine, quietly moving in the shadows.

“……”

Conrad was silent for a moment, and he tapped Morgan's mind with his psionic powers, but Morgan seemed so immersed in the conversation with Killiman that he didn't react: Or, was she relieved of the so-called Tarasin?

He tried to be as polite as possible, pulling his hand away from the Judden lady's tug: but only a move made the mortal woman stand a little unsteadily, and the Midnight Wraith immediately felt a burning gaze on his back.

This damn Makulag!

Why is this Killiman so? Like a Dawnbreaker.

Conrad cursed in his heart, and on the surface, he reached out and helped Lady Judon in time, and while completely passively reaping another wave of favor from the old man, he was unwilling to continue the mortal game with her.

As for that Tarasin......

Love whoever you want, he doesn't care.

——————

Anyway, he's done his part.

Other things, nothing to do with him.

The overlord of Solenamus tapped on the standard wagon beside him, and stood in the shadows, quietly waiting for the man who connected with him: in his emotion processor, which had been in operation for countless millennia, there was a mood brewing called impatience.

Frankly speaking, Tarasin didn't really want to take on this mission, after all, this mission not only had to infiltrate the fortress of Hera, which was heavily guarded by the Ultramarines, but it was completely Morgan's inspiration, and the whole plan was only discussed by Morgan, Conrad and Tarasin, and the maid of the original body didn't even have time to know.

But it can't be helped, who called the ambitious Macullag man always have a special place in Morgan's heart: nothing else is mentioned for the time being, as soon as the word eight thousand think tanks comes out, any action of Killiman has become a measure that needs to be seriously considered, or at least taken carefully, in the eyes of the Lord of Avalon.

Even if you know it's an unintentional move.

Who called it Killiman, even if it was an unintentional act of his, the rich family background and powerful energy revealed behind it were enough to make people with a heart see a cold sweat: for example, the Lord of the Ultramarines was just talking and laughing, playfully revealing his knowledge of the internal situation of other legions, which was enough for the Lord of Avalon to urgently gather her brother and her image director behind the smile to plan a spy operation inside the fortress of Hera.

Isn't it true that Killeman and the Ultramarines are mostly cold to the rest of the legions because of their image? Didn't Killyman be in his political calculations and not very close to his brothers?

How did he manage to know the internal situation of the other legions, and even to take the situation so often that he could say it as a joke in conversation?

The more careless the Lord of Macullag told those secret words, the more cold sweat broke out in Morgan's thinking about it in the future: so, of course, the overlord of the space necromancer was kicked into the Hera Fortress by Morgan unexpectedly, to spy on the possible intelligence system within the Ultramarines Legion.

It would be great if they could get their hands on the list of lurkers within the other legions: the Spider Queen didn't want to do anything with this list, but at the end of the day, all she wanted was peace of mind.

"O mortal weak heart."

Tarasin sighed coldly, although he was not interested in this plan at all, he still completed it dutifully: infiltrating the interior of Hera's fortress and copying a summary of the work of the Thirteenth Legion in terms of intelligence was indeed a difficult thing, but compared to the archaeological work he had carried out, it was only [somewhat difficult].

Yes, Tarasin did a great job, but it took a little longer: he stuffed a lot of copies into the truck, making the whole truck look heavy.

Now, as soon as his connector takes the wagon away, he can do something that is of real interest to him: there are some places of archaeological value in the other buildings of Makurag......

Thinking of this, the voice of the space necromancer squeezed out a few hints of expectation, and it was in this anticipation that he finally heard the footsteps of the receiver getting closer.

“…… It's you? ”

Before the person arrived, the sound had arrived. With the sound of the grass being gradually peeled away, a pink hair appeared in front of the space necromantic overlord: Virgo frowned a little suspiciously, although she knew the image summary of this mother, she had no idea why this guy was here.

Tarasin didn't care, as soon as he stretched out his hand, he pushed the heavy wagon in front of the maiden, and after the latter's somewhat ignorant knot, he showed off unexpectedly.

"Everything is here, it's all well kept, hurry up and get it: for safety reasons, I've added a few genetic locks to it, don't worry, that mother of yours can unlock them."

“…… All right? ”

Virgo nodded again, her eyebrows furrowed, completely unaware of the value of the contents of this cargo box, to the point of using genetic locks?

Isn't it a tortilla?

Virgo muttered, and in Thor Rams's overlord's chest, a metallic laugh erupted, and he turned away, the dark green light quickly disappearing into the darkness, and he walked towards the main town of Maculag with anticipation.

Behind him, Virgo was also dragging the standard truck, slowly walking towards her genetic mother.

“……”

It wasn't until a few minutes later, when both of them had disappeared into the darkness of the forest, that the silence was broken by the sound of a sigh of soot: Servita dragged the two-third-empty standard transport truck to the foolproof hiding place that he had personally chosen, and patted the fallen leaves on his shoulder armor with some annoyance.

He came back later than he expected: who knew that the group of Daybreakers would talk so much in private, dragging him, a newly recognized battle brother, to talk for a while.

Forget it, though.

Harmless.

The Raven Prince laughed.

Calculating the time, it's almost time for him to rotate, after he completes his rotation......

There shouldn't be any problems.

——————

“……”

No.

Big problem.

“……”

Conrad breathed deeply.

He didn't know what kind of mentality he was in, watching Virgo drag the transport truck to the front of the two primitives, and he didn't know what kind of mentality he was, listening to Morgan introduce the special tortillas on the Goddess of Dawn to Gilliman with great interest, and invited him to open them and taste them together.

Why are you so generous this time?

There is no need to take care of Killiman, who was snubbed by Ms. Judton!

Midnight Ghost only felt a tooth ache, because just now, his prophecy fantasy was wildly warning in his mind: Of course he knew that this delivery truck wasn't some goddamn tortillas, god damn it, don't you dawnbreakers have a second delivery truck?.

Thinking of the scene where the official documents of the Ultramarines inside the delivery van were opened in front of Killiman......

“……”

No, this aesthetic range is still too far ahead of his time.

Conrad gritted his teeth, his brain had to start running at full speed, thinking about the current way to break the game: tell Morgan that there was a problem in the truck, it was obviously too late, the two primordials were already standing in front of the truck, even Morgan, I am afraid it would not be able to get over.

So......

Conrad took a deep breath.

Then, he glanced at Lady Yuton, who was standing next to him, and her ears were still worried about the future prospects of cooperation between the Five Hundred Worlds and the Far Eastern Frontier.

…… It's you.

Midnight Wraith laughed, reaching out to grab the mortal lady, and then let his voice be heard by dozens of people nearby: the shrill voice attracted the two progenitors in front of him who were about to open the delivery truck.

"Ms. Judton."

"You're worried about the prospects for this great cooperation between us."

The original body laughed exaggeratedly, and his performance made it unclear to everyone what kind of medicine was sold in the gourd of the Midnight Spirit: until the Lord of the Eighth Legion took a few steps forward, stretched out his arm extremely smoothly, and grabbed Morgan with his left hand and Killiman with his right hand.

"Personally, I think that if you want to consolidate cooperation between the Five Hundred Worlds and the Far Eastern Frontier, there is a very effective method: a very old method, a method that everyone present knows."

The sound of the last sentence covered half of the square.

Conrad stared at Youton, feeling the puzzled gaze of Killiman on his left and Morgan's cold gaze on his right, trying not to sound his voice tremble.

——————

"A political marriage."

"How?"

——————

“……”

“……”

【……】

Silent.

Silence is Cambridge tonight.

“…… Cough...... Ahem......"

Regardless of the side, the atmosphere was so gloomy that he could already press Conrad on the cutting board and kill the Lord of Avalon ten times or eight times, but it was the Archon of Maculag, who reacted first, and coughed in embarrassment in the midst of an uproar.

"Don't make a fuss, brother."

Killeman smiled reluctantly.

"It's obviously impossible: it's like a fairy tale, it's not feasible."

"Yes, Miss Judton."

“…… Ms. Judton? ”

Ms. Judton.

Don't your eyes shine, Lady Judton!

(End of chapter)

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