+ However, no matter what the Blood God thinks of you, there is one fact that we cannot change: our war with the Blood God is not over, and now is not the time to let our guard down. ＋

+ After Nukeria, we have another problem: the poison that the blood god left in Angelon's brain, which is his last and strongest card. ＋

+ The Butcher's Nail is still ingrained in Anglon's mind, and as long as this pain-making machine is still working, all our efforts are still at risk of being undone: after all, neither you nor I can stay by Angron's side forever, and if someone else oversees the Butcher's Nail...... ＋

+ Neither easy nor realistic. ＋

At the end of the sentence, the Emperor's tone was noticeably dulled, perhaps he had really thought about the possibility of setting up some Guardians in the Twelfth Legion: for example, the most trusted Praetorian Guards under his command?

It's just that after thinking about it for a while, even the emperor had to give up this illusion.

It is true that the loyalty of the Forbidden Army will always be trustworthy, but this does not mean that their abilities are also the same: the Forbidden Army may be confident that it is not inferior to the Original, but as a co-founder, the Emperor is still clear about the gap between the Genetic Prototype and the Forbidden Army.

He knew how vulnerable even the toughest and most shrewd Praetorian Army could be in the face of the Primordial with a motive motive: both Alpharis and Angelon had explained this truth to the Lord of Mankind with facts.

So, rather than sending a few Forbidden Troops, the plan that Morgan had explained to him before the Nukeriyah Special Operation sounded more feasible: although it would require a lot of unstable Xenomorph technology, it was a very dangerous and blasphemous plan.

But it doesn't matter, he's the emperor of the human empire, and he can put a stamp on any document to show that these alien technologies are actually long-lost, from the golden age of humanity, but they have been temporarily stolen by the aliens: after all, no one understands the golden age of humanity better than the emperor.

Thinking of this, the last bit of thought in the heart of the Lord of Mankind vanished, and his gaze shifted from the carved beams outside the floor-to-ceiling window to the body of his genetic daughter: all the deliberations added up to not even a moment, and when the emperor's gaze came, Morgan's mind was still resting on the question of the God of Fear, Excitement, and Blood.

The Lord of Avalon ushered in the Emperor's next words in a sluggish state.

+ What's more, I haven't decided whether to send the Forbidden Army to the various Astarte Legions, so that they can be my spokesmen in the various legions or expeditionary fleets, and solve those unnecessary contradictions. ＋

【…… Wait a minute? 】

And the emperor's words made the Lord of Avalon continue to fall into a stupor.

【You...... You...... What exactly were you talking about? Father? 】

The Emperor glanced at his daughter, who was noticeably more patient than before, and even the words he used to explain sounded much slower and clearer.

+ I said that I was considering whether I would arrange for some forbidden army to be stationed in the expeditionary fleets of the various legions as my spokesmen when I returned to Holy Terra, and to reconcile the conflicts that might erupt in these fleets: but this was only an idea of mine. ＋

[Ah...... That's ......]

Morgan took a deep breath.

+ What's wrong with you? ＋

[Nothing, I'm just trying to feel your breadth and profundity. 】

In that moment, a myriad of thoughts, torrents, and malice whizzed through the genotype's mind: she couldn't figure out how the emperor managed to stitch together a sentence she didn't understand at all with every word she knew.

Forbidden Army? Sent to the Legion? to reconcile possible contradictions? Is there any necessary connection between the subject-verb-object? Or do you actually want to carry out the old things of Thunder Warriors against some disobedient forbidden troops, but this time with the help of Astarte?

Morgan's eyes narrowed.

The chaos and disorder in the original mind lasted only a moment, and then it was ruthlessly suppressed by her sanity, and the interrogation that was about to blurt out was unwittingly disappeared into her throat after remembering the emperor's previous suggestion of such astonishing wisdom as [Warlord] or [Terra Council].

Forget it, it's not the first time......

The father of her genes is like this: just get used to it, just get by, how can you run away from home?

A helpless snort rolled over the upper lip of the Lord of Avalon, and Morgan blinked his eyes to look directly into the eyes of the Father of Genes, asking the only question she cared about at the moment.

[I ...... about this No comments. 】

[However, I would like to ask: will you also set up these spokespersons of yours in my Daybreaker or the Far Eastern Frontier?] 】

+ No, it won't. ＋

Glancing at his daughter, the Emperor stepped along, motioned for Morgan to follow, and walked to the left side of the room, where there was a huge group of reliefs on the wall that took up the entire wall, telling heroic tales that transcended time in a rather archaic way: from St. George's dragon slaying to the day the Lord of Men announced the Great Expedition on Terra, 10,000 years of history are delicately condensed into a glimpse.

But neither the Emperor nor Morgan were in the mood to admire these masterpieces, which had moved Fogham and St. Giles, and they followed the reliefs into the corners of the room, where the Lord of Men was rummaging through the bookcase, and his daughter was waiting silently behind him with her hands behind her back.

The Emperor took out miscellaneous items from the bookcase one after another: books, scrolls, paperweights, and blue floor plans, which were soon piled up on the table, and Morgan glanced at the papers, which recorded some of the most advanced biological science and technology.

The Lord of Humanity continues to search, and continues the conversation he left off.

+ You won't, neither will Killiman, neither will either. ＋

[Because of our peculiarity? 】

+ Killiman is the reason, but you have another reason......

The Emperor's fingers were visibly sluggish.

+ I have asked my Janissaries if they would like to be my spokesmen and stationed in the various legions, and most of them are unwilling to give up their mission to defend me, but they still say that they will obey all the orders I have given, and many of them will even take the initiative to go to the Maculag to spy on Killiman's whereabouts. ＋

[Ahem, actually Robert ......]

+ I know. ＋

Just as Morgan was about to defend a certain Macullag whose reputation was so bad that even she could pity her, the Human Lord's words brutally interrupted his daughter, and at the same time turned his head sideways, and there was a moment of silence: Morgan, who was a psyker, could sense her genetic father, and seemed to be using his psychic energy to summon one of his subordinates.

+ I know that Killiman will not easily break his oath to me: the rise of the Empire of Man is also something he longs to see, and he is the purest seeker of the Great Expedition. ＋

+ What's more, our Lord of the Five Hundred Worlds has never been able to catch up: even if he rebels, it is better to wait for Dorne to abandon his fortress on his own initiative. ＋

【…… You're right. 】

Morgan nodded, she suddenly felt that she didn't need to speak for Killiman: the emperor didn't even care about the possibility of rebellion against the Lord of Maculag, was there a safer attitude in the galaxy?

Morgan felt that the next time she met Killiman, she should congratulate her Marcurag brother.

But then again......

[What is the second reason for me?] 】

In the face of Morgan's inquiry, her genetic father did not answer immediately, but continued to look for the items he needed, and only when it was done after ten seconds, did the Lord of Mankind turn around, count the small mountain of books in front of him, and after counting, he looked at his daughter, word by word, and answered Morgan's puzzled questions.

+ My Praetorian Guards are generally reluctant to go to your Avalon. Because they say they don't want to be like the Dawnbreakers, a bunch of greedy chubbys, hopelessly motherly lovers, or fools who play Monopoly or bridge with mortals in their breaks, and occasionally lose: though I personally don't hate that last point. ＋

【……】

Morgan raised an eyebrow.

[Has my Dawnbreaker's reputation in the Empire reached this point?] 】

+ At least in Terra. ＋

The Emperor just looked into Morgan's pupils and nodded solemnly.

+ However, among mortals, your legion is not low in popularity, and in Terra's shop, the Legion of the Dawnbreaker and the Legion of Salamanders are the best-selling ones, and then the Sons of the Emperor and the Angels of the Blood: mortals like to hear in their favor, and the Dawnbreakers have the most deeds in this regard, and everyone knows that your Heir and the Heir of Vulcan are the most enthusiastic about humanitarian aid. ＋

[Ah, of course: that's good.] 】

Morgan laughed: she didn't think it would be a bad thing to be compassionate with the salamander.

[But it sounds like at least your forbidden army doesn't like me.] 】

+ They don't like anybody, and their duty requires them to do so. ＋

The Emperor turned and took the books and scrolls in his arms, and at the same time, a considerable part of them were stuffed into his daughter, and when he had his free arm, looking for the button to the secret door on the relief, he spoke of the Praetorian in a tone that was even strangely proud.

+ Some of them are even brave enough to confront me in public: my guardian, Diocletian, for example, fears no one in the empire and does not respect them. ＋

【…… I don't think that's an advantage. 】

The voice of the Protogen's taunt sounded behind the Emperor, and Morgan clearly remembered the Forbidden Army named Diocletian: although the Emperor's Golden Guards generally did not have much affection for the Lord of Avalon, a guy like Diocletian, who openly displayed his hostility and disdain directly in front of Morgan, would indeed impress the Protoplasm.

[You once told me that the forbidden army is one of the gifts you left for mankind, but Diocletian is a gift, I think ordinary people should be blessed, and I don't think he will protect mortals from the heart. 】

+ But he will guard mortals by my command, and that is enough. ＋

The Emperor pressed the gem from the hilt of St. George's sword, a passage wide enough for him to walk side by side with the Genotype, unfurled over the blood-stained armor of the Dragon Slayer, and before stepping into it, the Lord of Humanity smiled at his daughter.

+ After all, the mission I give to everyone is different, and you don't all need to be saints or perfectionists: just as I would appoint my Sagittarius as a commander, or allow Ferus to keep the secret weapons that his brothers will never know, because they are all required to fulfill their mission. ＋

+ But on the other hand, no matter how good they are, I can never let them know that my room one is connected to my most important private laboratory: none of your blood brothers will know about the existence of this laboratory except you, because it is your mission, the one you need to do well. ＋

What if my ability is insufficient? 】

Morgan held a sea of books large enough to cover her face, and smelled a strange breath in the scrolls: a strange mixture of the ancient scent of sawdust and the heavy smell of undried ink, which seemed to indicate that these books were not compiled in a way known to ordinary people.

+ So, I'm here too. ＋

The Emperor nodded, motioning for his daughter to follow him.

+ Although I am not omnipotent, at least for now, I can provide you with sufficient shelter and guidance, as well as technical support at critical moments: I am not the greatest being among mortals, but I have witnessed the great walk in the world, and I have remembered the glorious shadows of the past. ＋

[What's more, you are simply obsessed with the greatness of those who died. 】

The original body's words were a little sharp: she knew that the remembrance of the so-called golden age of the past was the main motivation for many strange thoughts and actions of the emperor in the political field, and it was also the biggest [uncontrollable factor] that existed in the lord of mankind in her personal opinion.

But the emperor didn't mind that.

+Maybe...... ＋

He paused, and the shadow disappeared into St. George's resolute countenance.

+ Come with me: Just as you need my expertise, now, I need that crazy idea in your head, and the legacy of your one-off alien friends. ＋

+ We only have one chance to get the twelfth back on track. ＋

[It's Angelon, father.] 】

Morgan corrects that.

And the emperor chose to ignore it.

+ Before success, he was not the Angron of the Empire: he was only the twelve. ＋

[Like a long time ago, I was just the number two in your eyes? 】

＋…… ＋

——————

+ That's right. ＋

The porch on the Imperiale's Dream is almost endless, making it hard to imagine that it was a battleship rather than a continent, and in the dimly lit metal temple, Morgan had to follow in the footsteps of her genetic father, avoiding the defensive traps that threatened her.

In the shadows, the Lord of Avalon could catch a glimpse of the defenders hiding in the impossible, silently saluting their lord while unreservedly turning their eyes on the Primordial.

They're also Praetoria, but their armor is almost black, and these silent warriors give the Spider Empress a hint of danger compared to their ostentatious counterparts outside: some of them might be weaker than Waldo, or at least not much worse.

These priceless arrays of defenses and defenders were not useless, and on the way to the lab, the original saw the remains of at least six failed assassins, who were so well preserved and embedded in the walls, as if they were some kind of decoration: except that Morgan could not understand the aesthetics of this.

She never felt that the skulls or other human organs commonly used in the human empire were ornaments worth learning from, and on her [Goddess of Dawn], the Lord of Avalon would use those memorable victories and heroes to make statues, reliefs, and transformational paintings, decorating those places that could be seen by every ordinary person, and the owners of those statues would pass by in the corridors, proud of their former exploits.

In addition, she will decorate her warship with fountains, greenery, resting chairs, classic bookshelves, automatic drink machines and even miniature ornamental gardens, and try to make it fit for life: instead of blindly encouraging sincerity and devotion in the ears of mortals, or shaping her battleship into a depressing barracks, Morgan feels that it is better to make mortals live better, so that they can have a more natural sense of belonging to the battleship.

After all, the fear of losing a good life is enough to make these mortal warriors burst into extraordinary courage: loyalty has never been the only reason for people to fight.

It's proven.

The Primordial withdrew her gaze, a small pride streaming through her chest, she had overcome her genetic father in her own realm: but beyond that, Morgan could feel more in the dimly lit corridor.

For example, both the black-clad Forbidden Warriors and the secret laboratory itself that they were approaching seemed to indicate that the Lord of Avalon was getting deeper and deeper into the true core world of the Human Empire.

It has nothing to do with conquest and honor, neither war nor bloodshed, but something more peaceful, calmer, and more ruthless, which is being held in the hands of the emperor, slowly and thoroughly unfolding in front of her.

This feeling reached its peak when they walked to the door of the laboratory.

And the moment the Emperor's palm touched the door of the laboratory, out of some inner instinct, Morgan asked a question behind her genetic father.

[Father.] 】

+ What's wrong? ＋

The emperor paused and turned to look at his daughter.

[I'm wondering: What if my plan fails?] 】

As she spoke, Morgan stared straight at the Emperor's pupils, she wanted to get the truest answer in the pupils of the Lord of Humanity, but she was greeted with only the same indifference as ever.

+ No, you will lose a brother, I will lose an heir: things will turn out the way we worked before, disappointing, but not unacceptable. ＋

【……】

Morgan licked her lips, a thought coming to her mind.

[That is, no matter what, you will let Angelon lead his legion.] 】

Morgan's question caused the emperor to raise an eyebrow, and he was silent for a moment, then added a smile to his voice.

+ Not necessarily. ＋

[Huh? 】

+ Actually, even if you fail completely, I have a way to make Twelve work for me, but I am just adding a lost Primordial, as for the War Dog Legion...... ＋

+ Someone will lead them. ＋

【…… Horus? 】

+ He's not a party, I need to be a party, let her come. ＋

The emperor smiled, staring at his daughter's pupils in turn.

+ Do you understand? ＋

[Got it...... I...... Will try. 】

(End of chapter)