"The World Eater."

"Hmm...... The Eater of Worlds ......"

"I'm really not used to this name, it's really too savage: but, at least, it's much better than their original [War Dog], and it's much better than those illiterate space wolves."

"It's a cultured name."

In a muffled mutter, the Psionic Master lowered his head and continued to flip through the Legion Bulletin in his hand: his eyes skimmed from the Tofu Block news of the World Eater, and he began to focus on the sports section, the real-time updates on the Legion Athletic Tournament.

After more than a decade in the Legion of the Dawnbreaker's expeditionary fleet, Azak-Ariman had become accustomed to starting his mornings in a mortal way: he had forgotten when he had developed them.

Normally, Ahriman wakes up at five o'clock, spends some time cleaning the house, wiping down his saber, scepter, and display case full of alien skulls, and then brews a caramel macchiato and picks up the newspaper he ordered from the mailbox at the door: the mortal postmen on the Dawning have never had any delays or mistakes in more than ten years, and Ahriman sincerely thanks them for their efforts.

During the cleaning, he would focus on the speeches and lesson plans placed at the bedside: perhaps for the galaxy, the establishment and opening of the Imperial Academy of Subspace Technology was not a big event, but Ahriman did strive for it as a great cause from the bottom of his heart.

After the Lord of Avalon personally invited Ahriman to become a lecturer at the academy, the elite of the Thousand Sons can be said to have witnessed first-hand how a more complete psionic research system has taken root in the empire: about the third year of Angelon's return to the empire, students from eleven legions have arrived on the [Goddess of Dawn] one after another, and after another year, the think tanks of the two legions of the Emperor's Son and the Iron Hand have also joined in, and they have started a fifteen-year study career together.

If you think about it, that was six or seven years ago, and now the top students among these students, such as Yesugai, Volias or Sevita, are comparable to Ahriman in many fields.

These students will not only have the most solid foundation learning under Morgan's seat, but also construct a safe subspace worldview under the guidance of the original body, fully understand the danger and necessity of the sea of souls, and keep in mind every red line that cannot be crossed.

Ahriman wasn't sure what kind of mentality these students had in mind when they first entered the school, but after a period of study, they all treated the genoplasm and her teaching with the most simple enthusiasm, and even developed a kind of respect for Aliman between teachers and students.

And it's this sense of pride that makes it possible for Ahriman to open his room with a smile on his face every day, enjoying his day aboard the Dawnbreaker: it's a weekly day off, and he'll be a little happier.

It takes about twenty-five minutes to travel from Ahriman's private bedroom to his favorite breakfast room, where he sits his blade to his waist and his scepter floats behind him, savoring the newspaper and coffee in his hand.

Chiko's favorite reading section is the sports section and the announcement section, because the former will record the matches in the Arena of the Dawnbreaker, while the latter will publish news about the Legion's psionic workshops and the Imperial Academy of Space Technology: Ahriman is a veteran member and honorary professor of both organizations, and can sit in the front row for every major event.

Today's sports news, though, caught more attention: the Dawnbreakers finally picked out the last member of the original pro-guard team in the arena, bringing a long campaign that lasted almost a decade to an end: thankfully, Morgan hadn't fought any particularly fierce battles in those years to acquiesce to her heirs messing around in this way.

The story of the last seat, in which two veterans of more than 200 years of service were shot together, and after forty-eight duels, the winner was finally decided by a sword, and it was destined to become a good story in the Dawnbreaker Legion.

At the very least, it will dominate the sports news headlines for the next few months.

In addition, the Diplomacy section is also very popular with Ahriman, especially on Tuesdays and Fridays, when it systematically reports on major events happening in other legions or expeditionary fleets: one of the tofu blocks has even been tracking the progress of the construction of the "Perfect City", which features a photo of Corfaron, the adoptive father of the original Genogenital Roga, preaching to the believers in front of the construction site.

Ahriman couldn't understand why the Legion of the Bearers had wasted so much energy on a city of wonders, not only because he couldn't understand it, but also because no one in the Far Eastern Frontier could understand it, and more and more strange rumors were brewing in the empire because of the completion of the perfect city.

One of the most widely circulated is that the emperor wants to become the living god of the entire empire, to combine the monarchy and the divine power into one, to achieve eternal rule, so he acquiesces to such a crazy worship act by Luo Jia: this statement also got a small tofu cube in the newspaper.

It was in this section that Ahriman learned that the Legion of the Thousand Sons had recently recalled their fleet and auxiliaries to officially join the Empire's Great Expedition: since Magnus returned to the Empire, the Legion of the Flesh-and-Blood Legion had been resting on its home planet for so long that the Empire had almost forgotten that there was such a force.

In the same way, the Thousand Sons Legion seems to have forgotten about Ahriman, the [Exchange Student in the Dawnbreaker Legion]: as a member of the Thousand Sons Legion, Ahriman actually learned the news of his Legion's imminent return from the newspaper of the Dawnbreaker Legion.

Barek, who was studying with him in the Legion of the Dawnbreakers, did not even know the news until now: because he did not subscribe to the Legion of Dawners newspapers.

Thinking of this, Ahriman couldn't help but smile evilly, but his gaze never departed from those rigid words: time has passed, and these useless things that Ahriman couldn't even see before, can now be excavated by him into the mysteries, and even make him enjoy them.

The atmosphere of the Daybreaker has visibly changed the thousand-son elite: Ahriman has learned to savor every mundane word in the official newspaper to capture the meaning behind it.

After all, while there were more than a dozen newspapers circulating at the same time on the Aurora alone, ranging from government-run general publications to the lackluster tabloids that circulated only among the mortal sailors on the lower decks, the only publication that could be designated by the Lord of Avalon was this best-selling Legion Bulletin.

Of course, the newspaper has a strong political flavor, especially in the first few sections, and every word in it is worth scrutinizing: Ahriman has even heard that Holy Terra and the Five Hundred Worlds will order Legion briefings to analyze the direction of the Lord of Avalon's rule as an important part of intelligence gathering on the Far Eastern Frontier.

As for whether this act of reading while walking will cause trouble for others, it is not a problem for Ahriman to worry about: thanks to the vast space of the [Dawning Goddess] and the intricate transportation network within it, this warship with nearly a million members, and mortals can [mingle] with Astarte, has never had any blockage. And for the road he walks, Ahriman has long been familiar with the road.

He remembered exactly where to stop and make way for the children who were lining up to make way to school, and many of them would greet Uncle Astarte politely, for Ahriman had watched them grow up: the children had grown up in their minds.

He was secretly thinking about whether to take those two most talented little guys as apprentices and teach them some real skills: but this kind of thing needs to be reported to the relevant departments, and teaching in private is considered dangerous, and it may also attract the personal interference of the genetic protogen.

After sending off the children, Ahriman would spend the next ten minutes greeting his twenty-odd mortal friends: among them were mortal officers who had fought alongside Ahriman, mortal psionics who had been his students, and office clerks who had known him for a long time.

He would walk side-by-side with two or three of them to the breakfast room, listening to them discuss work and family, complain about the children's playfulness at school, or discuss where to travel for their next paid vacation.

Then, at the door of the breakfast room, Chiko puts the newspaper in the automatic recycling machine and puts it into the recycling system inside the battleship, this simple environmental awareness is the obligation of everyone in the battleship, and the genetic prototype is beginning to gradually spread it to the entire legion: with this simple environmental consciousness as a package, Morgan subtly makes every mortal feel that the fleet of the Daybreaker is their second home.

The delicate-minded mother of the Dawnbreaker Legion always seems to like to work on these innocuous little things, but there is one thing that Ahriman has to admit: after Morgan's series of [wasted effort], the atmosphere in the Dawnbreaker fleet is indeed more likable than any expeditionary fleet he knows.

Even if it's ...... Chiko's ......

Ahriman lowered his eyebrows, no one knew what he was thinking, and few people heard the elite of the Legion of a Thousand Sons boasting about Magnus's legion in conversation as they had done more than a decade ago: the changes that the Legion of the Dawnbreakers had given to the psionic master may not have been obvious, but they were as subtle as flowing water, and they never stopped.

Just like now: when Ahriman finishes his last sip of coffee, he will see that his friend and rice partner, Hecht, has already made breakfast for the four of them, and is sitting in their position that has not changed for more than ten years, and there are often a few recruits who Aliman does not know sitting next to him, and their faces will be covered with the nostalgic youth and restraint.

As he began to process the blueberry jam sandwich and thick egg grill with ham on his plate one bite at a time, Ahriman would occasionally observe the new blood of the Daybreakers, and whisper in his heart that his friend had gone from being a jerky newcomer to a mainstay who could teach other newcomers.

Most of the time, however, he would only concentrate on talking to Hecht and discussing the anecdotes inside and outside the Legion: as a highly regarded heir to Morgan and a sure future member of the Sword-Fence Council, Hecht had far more access than Ahriman's.

Many times, it is the dawnbreaker who speaks, and Chiko listens silently, and it is in this wonderful atmosphere where the sounds of chewing and discussion gradually mingle and finally converge into one, it belongs to the day of Ahriman......

It's just the official beginning.

——————

"Did you read the news in the newspapers today about the World Eater Legion?"

Hector stacked the five cheese and bacon sandwiches on top of each other to form a rosin-scented tower, the mellow cheese and the well-toasted bread edges glued together with a slight squeeze, and the fine lines flowed with fragrant juice, and finally disappeared into the dawnbreaker's mouth.

Morgan's pride squeezed his cheeks bulging, and he scribbled on the table with his fingers the emblem of the World Eater Legion: a fanged jaw about to devour an abominable world enslaved by chains and shackles, a symbol that has become a haunting nightmare for countless slave owners and warlord leaders who have resisted the human empire since the Legion was at the helm of Angron.

"I watched."

Ahriman nodded: The information of the World Eater has been pouring in over the years, and it seems to be one of the most popular legions, but it is quite strange that apart from constant sorties, conquests, and victories, the Twelfth Legion has no [special content] of its own at all.

The entire World Eater Legion is like a relentless war machine, except for the gladiatorial arena on the [Resolute Resolve] that still attracts the best players of various legions, the boring level of the World Eater is comparable to the Imperial Fist, and their genetic protogen rarely shows up on weekdays, let alone circulates any interesting stories.

All this made this legion, which was obviously in the limelight, seem quite marginal in the course of the entire Great Expedition, but the World Eaters did not complain about this, they spent several years in the southern part of the galaxy to circle a vague sphere of influence, found several cooperative worlds for themselves to replenish the staff, and with the increasingly abundant resources at hand, under the recommendation of Morgan, they took the production capacity express of the Far Eastern Industrial Complex, and completed the upgrading of major equipment at a very fast speed.

While these changes to the World Eaters are a drop in the bucket compared to the Ultramarines or Daybreakers, for the average medium-sized legion, everything the Sons of Angelon have done is enough to keep them healthy on the Great Expedition.

The Twelfth Legion is expanding its strength at an astonishing rate, making them a force to be trusted by the Empire in terms of troops, equipment, logistics, and uncomplaining reticence and clean fighting style: such a drastic transformation is naturally impossible for the World Eaters to accomplish alone, and it is clear that their indiscriminate Genoplasm has been dutifully fulfilling its responsibilities as the Lord of the Legion.

But on the other hand, he didn't fulfill his responsibilities as the father of genes.

The atmosphere within the Twelfth Legion always contained a hint of indescribable oddity, a similar assessment that every visitor would make: although they were not worried that the World Eaters would be dissatisfied with their original body, these warriors really did not have a good attitude towards Angelon...... Healthy?

"I have to say that the Twelfth Legion did a really good job in the battle to pacify the Macherion Federation, and I remember that they captured the enemy's main planet in only thirty-three Terra standards: the War Council thought it would be a siege that lasted at least five months, and they couldn't even believe the report of the World Eater."

"Looks like someone is going to be honored."

Ahriman whispered, he didn't have much feeling about the achievements of the World Eater, all these years in the Far Eastern Frontier, Ahriman had already known the weakness of the so-called war record: look at the Dawnbreaker Legion, the miracle they have created in the Far Eastern Frontier is comparable to the entire Great Expedition, only Killiman's Ultramarines can match it, but the outside world never seems to regard the establishment of the Far Eastern Frontier as a great achievement of the Dawnbreaker, they would rather give all the glory to Morgan alone, In this way, the Daybreaker will continue to be the mediocrity of the Great Expedition.

But the Daybreakers didn't care, for Morgan, in turn, bestowed all the glory on her children, and for her children, the Primordial Praise was far more enticing than Terra's merits.

Witnessing all this, Ahriman naturally had some different thoughts about the so-called achievements: he sometimes wondered if he would persuade his genetic father to copy the achievements of the Far Eastern Frontier with Prospero as the core, even if it only included a few dozen worlds.

"yes."

Hector nodded, and he drank the chocolate milk from his glass.

"I remember that when Angelon just returned, there were still people in the outside world who doubted the next performance of the Twelfth Legion, and as a result, you see, in the last few years, the World Eater Legion has regained its prestige, if you only look at the time of Angelon's return, the record of the Twelfth Legion is among all the expeditionary fleets, and it is also a guarantee of five and three."

"Counting this pacification operation, I'm afraid that even the Shadow Moon Blue Wolf and the Iron Hand will feel a trace of pressure: after all, Horus had declared before. It would take at least four months for his legion to take the entire Federation, compared to two months for the World Eaters. ”

"After all, the World Eaters don't like the Shadow Moon Wolves, who like to negotiate tricks."

"And...... Their casualty rate is also very staggering. ”

Ahriman shook his head.

"Seriously, I personally don't understand their fighting style, obviously Angron himself is not a violent primordial, why are his subordinates so reckless: especially in this pacification operation, I heard that the World Eater officer in charge of commanding the operation on the ground, after the twenty-fifth hour of the battle, even directly abandoned his command post and personally led the whole army to launch a full-scale charge."

"Most of the casualties of the World Eater Legion were concentrated in the next eight hours, and the exponential spike occurred, with a large number of soldiers, including three company commanders, dying: it was just a matter of taking some more time."

"It's ...... too"

Hector pouted: The question that Ahriman was talking about was almost universally accepted within the Empire: the casualty rate of the World Eaters had always been disturbing and unsettling, and that the Twelfth Legion would not have been able to steadily expand its army if it weren't for the unusually strong performance of their genetic seeds.

"I think that's probably the price they pay for [thirty-one hours of glory]."

Hector picked up the iron kettle and poured himself another drink, his words were not really loud, and almost instantly dissolved into the noisy cafeteria, but Ahriman caught it keenly, and raised his brow with interest.

"You mean: that legendary thirty-one hours of glory is real?"

"Can there be a fake?"

Hector leaned forward and revealed his secret to his friend, who had his ear sideways.

"You know, Ahriman, just a few months ago, the World Eater Legion sent us a communication team led by a company commander named Margo, with whom I had fought alongside him: before a battle, he proudly told me that the greatest feat he had ever achieved as a World Eater was thirty-one hours of glory."

"According to them, Angron, the father of their genes, will make battle plans before the battle based on intelligence and the situation of the legions, and will go into battle if he needs to do it himself: but in the vast majority of cases, Angron will not be on the front line of battle at the very beginning of the battle."

"While it is true that the Lord of the Red Sands exhibits rare joys in battle, he has always been very cautious in joining the fray and constantly suppressing this joy: the exact reason for his actions is a mystery that even the Devourers of Worlds do not know."

"Probably PTSD."

Ahriman touched his chin and gave his guess.

"It's not impossible considering Angron's experience as a gladiator."

"But what does that have to do with that thirty-one hour of glory?"

"That's the problem."

Hector laughed.

"According to Margo, if the situation is still in a state of scarcity thirty-one hours after the battle broke out, and there is no way to open it up in a short time, then Angelon will personally join the ground battlefield and take over the command of all combat units: while he will not punish his former commander for this, this will often be considered a disgrace by the World Eaters themselves."

"The World Eaters, on the other hand, pride themselves on being able to end the battle in victory within thirty-one hours: no matter what the opponent is, no matter what the specific situation, they will pursue thirty-one hours of victory."

"Although, Angron has never made any such request, it is only an act of the World Eaters in their own pursuit of honor: they are eager to ravage any enemy for their original body for thirty-one hours, just like the City Eater in Anger's mouth."

"In other words, this is a habit formed by the World Eaters by their own agreement, and it has nothing to do with Angelon: the World Eaters take the initiative to consider thirty-one hours their glory?"

Ahriman nodded abruptly: as an Astarte warrior, he didn't find anything strange about such a habit, but if the World Eaters were punished for not being able to complete their tasks in thirty-one hours, then Ahriman would find it strange.

After all, not every genogen is Peturabo, right?

"That's right."

Heckt nodded.

"Actually, the Lord of the Red Sands rarely punishes his men, and even if an officer makes a big mistake in a war, he will only hand them over to a military tribunal run by the World Eaters themselves: the most severe punishment is often a complete demotion or a suicidal mission, and the Genogen will never interfere in such a thing."

The company commander of the Daybreaker slowly shoved the last sandwich into his mouth.

"That's all Margo told me, and he told me about the company he led, which had been inspected by Angron after thirty-one hours of glory in the previous Klepx Alien battle: he said it was the only time they had ever been able to meet their genetic father in private."

"Although the Lord of the Red Sands has never acknowledged the glory of thirty-one hours in public, any company or officer corps that can achieve this glory will indeed be reviewed and praised by him: I wonder if he learned it from our Mother of Genes, which is the fundamental reason why this thirty-one hour glory is so popular among the World Eaters."

"I think it's very likely that Angelon learned from your primordial body."

Aliman nonchalantly sorted out the snacks on his plate, handed the empty plate to the mortal employees who were patrolling the cleaning cart back and forth, and gave them a thankful smile, and Hector did the same: the new bloods behind him were following suit, understanding the unique way of getting along between the Dawnbreaker and the mortals.

"I have been following rumors about the Twelfth Legion, and I can see the shadow of His Excellency Morgan in many of Anglon's military and management measures: although these actions of Angron are completely devoid of His Excellency's ...... Human. ”

As soon as these words were uttered, the element of pride began to spread across Hecht's face, and he and Ahriman took their drinks, clinked glasses, and in the last hours of breakfast, began to chat about trivial things, and the center of the conversation naturally shifted from the World Eater Legion to the Daybreaker Legion.

"I've heard that Mother doesn't plan to send Margo's team to Salamas, she intends to take it with her, just like she did with Midnight Lord's Sevita."

Hector sighed softly.

"Speaking of Sevita, that kid has really gotten better and better in the past two years: I remember he came here eight years ago, and was shoehorned in by Lord Conrad before your subspace technology research institute opened. After that, Lord Conrad directly led the entire Eighth Legion into the ghoul stars for an exploration expedition, and Sevita settled on the [Dawning Goddess] in this way, and the original body even gave him the room of the previous Lord Conrad. ”

"I've heard he's learned a lot."

Ahriman shook the coffee in his cup, he was impressed by Sevita, a man of great talent in every way, as if to confirm the existence of the Genius species in the galaxy.

"Isn't it a lot?"

Hector snorted.

"It is said that the mother first took him with him as an attendant military attaché, after all, it was personally recommended by His Excellency Conrad, and he always had to take extra care, but that kid became prosperous in a few years, and he was already a well-known number one person in the arena: his status in our arena is like Sigismund's status in the World Eater Arena."

"Sigismund, that guy is also rising fast: it's not been two years."

Ahriman raised an eyebrow.

"It is said that just the other day, the original body sent him to the Sword Bar Council to learn how the Legion works: the Council's final assessment of Sevita is [promising], and he feels that he is fully capable of shouldering a legion."

“…… Tsk......"

Hector shook his head and sighed.

"Tell me, why didn't we meet the Dawnbreaker with this kind of good seedling?"

“……”

He is the Midnight Lord.

It's no different from you Daybreakers.

Ahriman drank the drink from his glass, and he didn't say it.

"So, is Lord Morgan planning to have Margo serve as her squire military attaché?"

"Of course not."

Hector shook his head.

"Mother's meaning is that she will bring these World Eaters into the next battle: we are about to have a big operation, haven't you heard, Ahriman, even Lord Dantiok of the Salamas Star District, has already brought people over, and it is said that he has brought hundreds of Iron Warriors this time."

"Dantiok is here?"

Ahriman's eyes widened.

"And what about the big operation: is the Far Eastern border going to expand again?"

"It's not."

Hecht denied it: he apparently already had reliable inside information.

"It's a war order from Holy Terra, asking us to carry out an expedition to the north of the galaxy to eliminate an independent human power in collusion with the Xenomorphs: this will be a war involving several sectors, we need to join forces with another legion, and if the battle is unfavorable, the emperor will personally send a third legion as a reinforcement."

"Another legion?"

Ahriman thought for a moment: he remembered the Dantiok he had just been mentioned.

"Do you mean ......?"

"That's right."

Hector nodded: his face looked a little complicated, and he didn't seem to be very optimistic about this time to fight side by side.

"Another legion."

"Another primordial."

"Peturabo."

"The Iron Lord."

(End of chapter)