"Commander ......"

With a whispered chant, the word popped out of Peturabo's mouth and echoed through the silent courtyard, echoing in his long, narrow, intelligent, cruel light cyan pupils.

He laughed, the curvature of his mouth almost imperceptible.

"I never thought you'd be interested in such a thing, Morgan."

"Do you also aspire to be admired by all people?"

There was a hint of sarcasm in Perturabo's inquiry, but it was not a sign of malice: on the contrary, he seemed to be really looking forward to Morgan's answer, to know how Morgan would be on the throne.

[No, of course not. 】

The Lord of Avalon shook her head, rejecting the Iron Lord's suspicions, and scooped up a spoonful of steaming cheese risotto, chewing it in her mouth as she answered Perturabo's question: Morgan knew that such a careless attitude would win the Iron Lord's trust.

Perturabo didn't like a deliberate answer, which he thought was a sign of sluggishness, hesitation, and ulterior motives: Morgan knew this in his conversation with Dantiok.

So, her words were concise and clear.

[You know, brother, I don't like any position in the limelight: I am a ruler of mysticism and Machiavellianism, and too glamorous thrones will prevent me from using certain ...... Necessary means. 】

As her lips and teeth softly spat out the last dangerous word, Morgan smiled at her iron-blooded brother: the Lord of Avalon did not intend to set up a weak persona against Perturabo as he did in front of Robert, after all, this Olympian blood relative of hers is an out-and-out genius, even if his mind is not at all focused on dirty political tricks, but many of Morgan's methods in the Far Eastern Frontier, the Iron Lord only needs to glance at it to see the doorway clearly.

"You like to stand in the shadows?"

【……】

Morgan smiled and didn't answer, and Peturabo didn't ask.

Sure enough, the Legion of Iron Warriors didn't care about the [necessary means] in Morgan's mouth at all, he just narrowed his eyes, pondered for a moment, and skipped the topic: like Killiman, Perturabo is also a logical genius with the ability to think in multiple lines, and the topics he communicates with are often jumpy.

Unlike Killiman, Perturabo is completely unconcerned about the negative effect of such jumpy topics on the communicator in front of him: he only firmly despises the weakness of those who do not fit in.

"So, it's one of our brothers who has invited you to be a lobbyist."

This is an affirmative sentence.

Then, before Morgan could say anything, the Iron Lord's interest seemed to rise, and he paced around the room in small circles, whispering the names of his brothers, as if trying to guess who the careerist really was.

"More than half of the genetic protogens will be tempted by the position of war commander."

Peturabo scoffed.

"But there are only a few people who can really put it into practice."

"Ferus is too arrogant, and Horus is too humble: the former will not take the initiative to let others help him as a lobbyist, while the latter prefers to do it himself, and as for the other brothers, they are not so anxious......"

As his voice became lower and lower, Peturabo's smile became more and more obvious, and he seemed to have an answer in his heart: there were only a few people in the original body who could be worthy of the word [ambition], and after a simple elimination, it seemed that there was only one rumored habitual offender......

"That is to say......"

[Nope.] 】

Before the Lord of Steel could speak, the smiling Morgan took the initiative to shake his head in denial.

Not Robert. 】

Morgan, smiling, pouted a little dejectedly as he watched Perturabo, feeling sad for one of his brothers: for some reason, an interesting picture would come to Morgan's mind as soon as he heard what her Macurag brothers were saying about the other brothers.

She'll see one busy. The sweaty blue-haired hamster was ruthlessly knocked to the ground under the weight of work and rumors, where his eyes were white, his mouth was spitting ghosts, and every now and then, several sharp arrows symbolizing misunderstandings were flogged into the corpse called "Robert Killiman's Reputation".

Well, there was another one just now.

It's so pathetic.

It was so poor that Morgan had to speak out to defend him.

"Not Killiman......"

The Iron Lord furrowed his broad brow a little unpleasantly, and the failure of the proud chain of logic had plunged him back into his daily embarrassment, not even noticing the overly intimate "Robert" in Morgan's mouth.

After a few microseconds, Peturabo's somewhat uncertain voice was heard.

"So...... Is it Johnson? ”

Morgan still didn't answer, she just closed her eyes and quietly savored the delicacy between her lips and teeth: the silence made Perturabo laugh, and he was a little surprised.

"Johnson......"

"I didn't think that guy would do this, I thought he would stay quietly in the dark, counting on everyone to admire his great deeds, and then spontaneously vote for him."

[Listen to your description, our brother is a bit of a stupid idiot. 】

Morgan's words brought Perturabo's chuckle to an abrupt halt, but as the Iron Lord looked at her with some concern, the Spider Queen responded with a larger smile.

[Not at most twenty years ago.] 】

That's exactly what he thought. 】

"Not now?"

[Of course not: pimples are finally starting to grow on his doll face.] 】

[Johnson has grown up~]

“……”

The next moment, the crystal chandelier on the dome was shaken by a complete burst of laughter, and the two genetic agents laughed unscrupulously, and all the previous caution and haze, temptation and thinking, were swept away.

"Interesting...... Interesting......"

After laughing, the Iron Lord, who was in a good mood, had returned to Morgan's table, his fingers together, and a fist placed near the plate of Margaret's pizza that was just baked.

"So, do you want me to vote for Johnson in the race for the commander?"

What was your original plan? 】

Morgan still didn't respond positively, and Perturabo only thought for a moment, and the swaggering smile returned to his face, silencing everything around him, and the heavily armed Iron Lord stood in silence, the light of the distant stars shining on his light gray armor with the refraction of twenty-two giant floor-to-ceiling windows.

Perturabo's words were like iron nails, sharp and irresistible.

"Remember what I said to you before, Morgan: Most of the Genoplasms are hungry for the glory of all eyes, and they all aspire to be able to become the Emperor after the Emperor's return to Terra. Continue the Great Expedition for him, and dedicate him the Imperial Warlord of the entire galaxy. ”

"This is not just a struggle for glory and status, but also a race for ability: because the person who can take over the banner of the emperor and wave Fang Xuan above the galaxy must be the most outstanding existence in the entire human empire, and must be the creature that the emperor is most proud of."

"It must be: the most outstanding man in the entire empire of mankind."

"And since that's ......"

After the impassioned exclamation, Perturabo simply straightened up, and he was as striking as the heroes of ancient Greece, wrapped in flawless Terminator armor.

When Perturabo's fist struck his breastplate, the sound of the concussion was loud enough to reach kilometers away, and louder than the sound was the proud words of the Iron Lord.

"So, naturally, I will support the best people in the galaxy to become the commanders."

"That's ......"

"I, myself."

【……】

"Do you have any questions? Morgan? ”

The Iron Lord smiled, and he leaned forward, both in tone and in his posture, with a rather aggressive posture: Peturabo was not an idiot who only knew how to accept teasing and manipulation, he knew how to engage in the most flamboyant confrontations in the field of language.

And in his gaze, in his somewhat playful pupils, Morgan's movements did not have the slightest fluster, on the contrary, she slowed down the speed of her limbs slightly, so that her every movement could be clearly engraved on the inside of the Iron Lord's pupils.

The Lord of Avalon first chewed the rice puree in his mouth without hesitation, swallowed it until he was calm, then put down the spoon, took out a tissue and wiped his lips, and then took a sip of the crystal glass filled with scarlet wine next to him.

I don't know why, Perturabo, who was watching from the sidelines, always felt that there was an indescribable shallow sadness in this series of smooth movements.

Morgan then raised her glass, and only after a visible sigh did she smile at her brother: there was bitterness on her lips that she tried to hide, but it did not escape Perturabo's senses.

[Totally agree, brother.] 】

"But you're sighing."

This statement clearly did not satisfy Perturabo, and he maintained this rather deterrent posture, slightly uneasily, waiting for an answer from his blood relative.

[It's just that there are some regrets.] 】

"Regret."

[Yes, it's a pity.] 】

Morgan opened his pupils and looked directly into Perturabo's gaze without fear: in front of the Spider Queen's flawless smile, it was the eyes of the Iron Lord that began to unconsciously let his guard down, and instead thought about Morgan's words with more logic.

"You...... Regret what? ”

【Heh......】

Morgan just looked at him quietly, so that her pupils and those of Perturabo could be reflected in their souls: in this gaze, the Iron Lord could see clearly, and he saw a trace of sadness in Morgan's eyes, a trace of regret for him Peturabo.

Or rather...... Commiseration?

“……”

For a moment, it almost made Perturabo angry, but before his countenance wrinkled as a result, Morgan's mournful voice echoed from the distant sky, echoing in the depths of his soul for a long time.

[I just feel sad: the Olympian who was once indignant at the injustice of his artistic dreams on the star of Li, the great savior who ran for the lives of countless mortal families, the world-wide genius who could make everything work on his own, would one day have to carry a burden that he never liked. 】

[Become the person he hates the most.] 】

“……”

In that moment, the Iron Lord's countenance visibly froze, the erupting volcano came to an abrupt halt, and consternation carved into his eyes, while shock and bewilderment appeared in the corners of his mouth: memories from the distant past hit his mind, but bits and pieces he had almost forgotten.

When he came to his senses a little, the Iron Lord's leaning forward body had unconsciously regained his straightness, but Morgan, who had been leaning back in his chair, had leaned forward to him at some point, and quietly became the first to speak.

[Do you remember, brother? 】

Morgan looked at him.

[What you described to me on the star of Li: the new world without war, oppression and slavery, the world that exists only for progress, thought and art, the one that allows us to step into the bloody galaxy, as we strive for? 】

“……”

[You have left your beloved marble temple and design institute for this reason, you have left countless places where your instinct can shine, you have given up your achievements in philosophy, architecture, logic, and art, and so on, and have thrown yourself into the killing that you are most tired of: just so that the day of your dream can come as soon as possible. 】

[But now ......]

Morgan sighed.

And Peturabo was silent.

One of the hands of the Lord of Avalon rested on Perturabo's breastplate, but the Lord of Steel could not utter a word, and he listened almost passively to Morgan's lament.

[Now, the empire has failed you, and Peturabo has to take the initiative to take on the war and take the initiative to take on the war of the whole galaxy: you have given up your world, your talent in hundreds of fields, and instead you have to devote all your wisdom and passion to the war and killing that you despise the most. 】

Morgan lowered her head slightly, as if she couldn't bear to say any more, and took a deep breath to calm her mind: but even under her cover, Perturabo could clearly hear the hidden sob.

That's a sobbing for him.

[I can't imagine what kind of torment you went through before you made this decision to decide to compete for this position with our brothers who were carried away by the so-called honor and affection: they would not understand your sacrifice, they would not understand how much greatness Peturabo would give up in him when he became the commander of the war, and Peturab, who was obsessed with killing? 】

What a great world it is, and it will be ruthlessly abandoned. 】

“……”

It was only then that the almost rigid Iron Lord finally had some reaction: he licked his dry lips, and his resolute face was now tangled together, as if it had been chopped in half by a sharp axe, half of which was moved by the words of his blood relatives, and the other half was the embarrassment of wanting to cover up some weakness in his heart.

Perturabo opened his throat, the logical thinking that perfectly orchestrated an entire war seemed to be broken at the moment, and he could not even squeeze out half a perfect sentence: before he could speak, Morgan's next sentence had already followed.

Despite the Spider Empress's best efforts to contain the cry in her voice, the Iron Lord was able to find traces in that tremble, the pathos that arose in his blood kin's heart for him.

[After all, we all know very well, Peturabo. 】

Morgan lowered her head, her hair covering most of her face, but the tears that had been sucked back were still real at the edge of the Iron Lord's vision for a moment.

[The so-called war commander, how can it be as great as they rumor: the whole galaxy has long since fallen under the boots of the empire, only the most savage corners still resist the orders from the Holy Terra, when the emperor returns to his golden palace, the so-called great expedition is nothing more than a boring purge of the corners of the three or three, and any battle commanded by the emperor in the first hundred years of the great expedition is more glorious than all the burdens on the war commander. 】

[As for commanding the various primordials and coordinating the various legions: who is qualified to do this except the emperor, and the Great Expedition has been going on now, so why should the already operational war machine be regulated by special personnel: the various legions have long known what they should do, and the commander is just a position to appease those honor hounds, an olive branch that the emperor has to throw in order to return to Terra. 】

[But it can't be helped, that's what our brothers need: like you said, most of the primordials are eager to be the glory of becoming the commander of the empire, and they don't even think about whether they are qualified for this position, and they don't think at all that if they really want to choose the best person, this position should have been placed on the bridge of the Iron Blood a long time ago. 】

“……”

At this moment, the Iron Lord's rationality had finally returned, but he remained silent: Perturabo's countenance was sinking into a different kind of gentleness, and his heart was lost to Morgan's words, pondering the true meaning of the position of commander that he had never noticed before.

But on the bright side, in front of his closest blood relatives, Olympia's pride did not allow Peturabo to refute himself, who had been triumphant a minute before.

Until Morgan's next words, what did the Lord of Steel realize?

[I feel sorry for you, brother, this will not be an easy thing, because the moment the title of war commander was spoken, someone already regarded it as something in the bag: our brother of the wolf shepherd god has long regarded himself as the rightful commander of the empire. 】

[Power, prestige, merit, the gaze of the emperor and the favor of the whole empire, and a large number of brothers who obey him: Chagatai Khan, Motarian, St. Giles, oh, and that Rogdorn, all of whom are destined to be supporters of the Warlord of Horus.] 】

“……”

Perturabo's eyes narrowed, and he snorted heavily.

"I don't think Horus would be the right person for the position of commander."

Finally, the Lord of Steel spoke.

"You know what I mean, Morgan: I don't feel comfortable handing over this position to someone like the Wolf Shepherd, who has too much power and lacks the means to be effectively supervised."

The Lord of Steel uttered these words categorically, and then, facing Morgan's re-raised pupils, Perturabo numbed himself inwardly as he swore to the words that came out of his mouth.

"That's why I'm joining the race for the battle commander: it's because there is no one in the empire who can really be trusted that I will give up my original promise to this world and have to bear the sin of war and killing."

“……”

"yes, that's it."

[Yes, all people are not trustworthy. 】

Morgan just sighed, her words sounding very distant.

“……”

【……】

At this moment, it seemed that the entire room fell silent, and the Iron Lord watched Morgan's emotions sink completely, which gave him time to gather every word they had spoken from the beginning.

At the very beginning, Morgan said to him......

……

Wait a minute!

A flash of inspiration flashed through Perturabo's mind.

He remembered what Morgan had said unintentionally.

"But ......"

The Iron Lord's eyes narrowed.

"Not everyone is threatened to break away from the Empire's control."

【…… What do you mean......]

Looking at Morgan's turquoise blue pupils, which had regained confusion, the Iron Lord simply patted her on the shoulder soothingly, and then, a hint of amusement came to his voice.

"Rest assured ......"

"Not Horus anyway."

——————

"Morgan."

"Do you remember the option you mentioned to me earlier?"

"Tell me your reasons."

(End of chapter)