Frankly, the Iron Lord actually has a lot of good reasons to convince himself to give up Horus as the most likely option in the race for Commander.

For example, he didn't think Horus was the best military strategist in the primordial body; Nor did he think that Horus would be able to provoke the girder of the empire; Nor will he admit that Horus is a man qualified to send him; And so on, it's just not enough.

In a word......

It's definitely not because some angry guy is also supporting Horus.

What's more, the Wolf Shepherd's trust, attitude, and closeness to the bastard outweighed that the Iron Lord: don't think Perturabo can't see this, the Iron Lord may have many different shortcomings in character and ability, but stupidity is not one of them.

Just as he was able to clearly recognize that Rogdorn was no different from him in terms of attitude, ability, tenacity, and enthusiasm, like two pieces of iron ore that were exactly similar in all the genetic protos: although Perturabo had always been dismissive of the so-called "interpersonal relationships", but only through casual observations and summaries, as well as extensive picking and digitization of all kinds of words, without personally ending up, The Lord of Steel is still well aware of the chaotic web of relationships within the Primordial Body, and is not ashamed to use it for his own gain.

He knows the characteristics, strengths, and weaknesses of most of his brothers, knows how to talk to and befriend them, and uses them in disguise to do things for himself: although he doesn't always do this, this also guarantees a good reputation in the original Perturabo.

Yes, while this may sound the opposite of the world's stereotypes, Perturabo is one of the most popular of the Genogenesis, and he maintains good general friendships with most of his brothers, although the only ones who can be called "best friends" are Morgan and Magnus.

The Primitives generally admired the Iron Lord's abilities and dedication, and most of their grievances against him focused on the bloody art of war and the cruel ways of his subordinates: the most representative of them was Killiman.

The Lord of Maculag and his Ultramarines have fought alongside the Iron Warriors for a long time, and he and his warriors have formed friendships with many excellent Iron Warriors, but a considerable part of these friendships have ushered in an extremely tragic ending because of the round of eleven kills set off by Perturabo when he just returned to the Legion.

Since then, Killiman's criticism of Perturabo has never been hidden, although he will also be very straightforward to praise the Iron Lord for his meticulous actions and meticulousness, and continued to steal divisions here in the Fourth Legion, and Perturabo also gave his Maculag brothers an astronomical clock tower by Morgan, but the relationship between the two legions has always been very stiff, and there is naturally no serious friendship between Killiman and Perturabo.

However, ignoring these unpleasant things, Perturabo is still a great genius in the interpersonal realm, and he just disdains, not won't, and still less can't: any fool who despises Perturabo for this will eventually pay a terrible price.

Presumably, only the most skilled and most cautious hunters could pluck the enviable fruit of Perturabo's brilliant and sensitive web of logic: while the Iron Lord never thought that anyone could do this, he did not believe that he would let down his innate defensive posture because of false tears, coaxing, inducement, or pompous empathy performances.

That's stupid.

Only someone as good as him can perform this kind of superb game.

But Horus?

Clearly not among them.

"......Shh

Thinking of this, Peturabo couldn't help but smile contemptuously.

Horus did not fail to try to win over the Lord of Olympia, on the contrary, he had been working on it: no one knew better than the Wolf Shepherd the power of the Iron Warriors, and Perturabo's philosophical and logical brain always impressed everyone who met the Iron Lord.

So, despite the lack of a history of fighting side by side between the Shadowmoon Wolf and the Iron Warriors, and the fact that Horus and Perturab do not have a solid common thread, the documents celebrating the many victories of the Fourth Legion and the intimate and flattering exchanges between the brothers continue to emanate from the Vengeful Spirit like snowflakes to the Iron Lord's desk.

Perturabo knew that this was Horus's wooing of him, and he admitted that he did enjoy the favor of the [Son of the First Return], and he did have a high opinion of the wolf herder: Perturabo had imagined that if the Emperor finally chose Horus as his commander, he might be temporarily annoyed by this decision, but in the end, he would also choose to acquiesce to this outcome.

Horus was not the best choice in Perturabo's heart, but if it was ready, Perturabo would admit the result: compared to those dark or crazy brothers, the wolf shepherd god is at least like a sun, able to make people feel a little kind of warmth, and it is acceptable to listen to his orders for a short time.

But if it's for a long time......

"But no normal person with an opinion can coexist with Horus for a long time."

Perturabo stood in front of Morgan, swearing in earnest, and looked carefully at the bulging face of the Lord of Avalon: the smiling Olympians had hidden a secret from his blood kin, one that would inevitably make Horus angry.

Originally, the wolf shepherd's efforts to woo Pertulabor were actually very effective, and the praise in his letters was very useful to the Iron Lord, who had just returned to the empire: this situation lasted for about twenty or thirty years, until Horus was no longer the only blood relative who sent the letter to Perturabo.

When a certain Lord of Avalon returned to the Human Empire and met her Olympian blood relatives for the second time, she also became Peturabo's pen pal naturally: unlike Horus, Morgan's letters were often more casual, and she would not be like the wolf god, accurately choking every opportunity for the Iron Warriors to achieve something, and sending congratulatory messages, but a more casual and lazy attitude, writing a letter to Perturabo from time to time, when the Iron Lord knew the content of the previous letter by heart, When it is a little boring, the second letter of the Lord of Avalon arrives.

Morgan's letters are also very different from those of the Wolf Shepherd, and she rarely celebrates every victory of the Iron Warriors, as if she knew that Perturabo would be able to win: an attitude that makes the Iron Lord particularly useful.

In the letters, the Spider Queen's pen strokes are casual and jumpy, and she occasionally complains to Perturabo about the difficulties on her side, occasionally asks for technical difficulties, and sometimes simply tells about what has happened in recent times, but always accurately captures the common interest between her and Perturabo: while Horus's letters are increasingly becoming copies of the same in the eyes of the Iron Lord, the next letter from the Lord of Avalon will always contain something more than Perturabo expected, This kind of reading, which is akin to exploring the unknown, will instead make the Iron Lord feel mentally relaxed.

Over time, this even produced some evolutionary phenomena, for example, Peturabo did not actually know that the name [Morgan] had quietly spread among his fleet: for no other reason, the most clever Primordial Acolytes sensitively discovered that whenever a letter was sent from the direction of Avalon, their Genetic Father would remain in a good mood for a while, at least a few days, or a few hours, and for those who deserved to be punished heavily, the Primordial would also be in a good mood at this time.

This little secret soon spread throughout the Legion through bribery and conversations between the fighting brothers, and many of the weak-hearted sons of Perturabo would secretly look forward to the unseen Lord of Avalon and hurry up to write the next letter.

Of course, there are exceptions, and not every lucky person can take advantage of Morgan's letter to get his genetic father to open the net: because in the letters, the Spider Queen will occasionally mention the Fourteenth Battalion of the Far Eastern Frontier, namely Dantioc, and his warriors, and she will boast of the great sacrifice of these warriors in the Galactic Frontier with a rather realistic stroke.

At this point, Perturabo felt a sense of pride, and if some unlucky person disrupted the Primordial's mind at this point, and was unfortunately used by the Primordial to compare it to the Fourteenth Battalion in the letter, it would be much worse than he had originally anticipated.

Looking at the heirs who can get the boast of blood relatives on the letters, and then look at the waste in front of them that can't do anything, what kind of things will the strict Lord of Steel do?

It's confusing.

But for Morgan, none of this was the most important thing: the most important thing was that when Horus's letter and Morgan's letter arrived on the Iron Lord's desk at the same time, Perturabo would inevitably put them together for an interesting comparison.

The result of this comparison is the sworn remarks of the genetic protogen: the poor wolf shepherd god did not know that his daily overtures to the Fourth Legion had cast a haze over his image in the hearts of his blood relatives.

"Horus is a well-hidden egocentr."

The Iron Lord licked his lips, and after taking the red wine from Morgan, he put one hand behind his back, like an ancient Greek sage walking in a marble courtyard, and tried to explain his point to his blood relatives in amazement.

"I have received letters from him, many more than you have written, and in these letters I have only seen a sun hanging over the sky, crappily trying to imitate the appearance of steel: he is measuring my victory entirely by his eyes and his thoughts, he has never understood how the Fourth Legion works, he is only boasting of the iron warriors of his imagination."

"He's far worse than you at this point, Morgan."

"And obviously, he was completely unaware of the mistake."

The original body took a sip of the wine in the glass, and he watched as his Avalon blood relatives methodically continued to pour chopped pizza and cutlets into his mouth, and the array of dishes that filled the entire table turned into stacks of plates in just two or three minutes: Perturabo was not even sure if the food really existed?

He smiled.

"You know what, Morgan, you remind me...... St. Giles. ”

The [Riemanrus] that had already poured into his mouth made Perturabo hesitate for a moment, and then turned to spit out the more popular brother, and at the mention of St. Giles, Morgan raised his head, and finally there was a trace of interest in his pupils.

[You mean, that St. Giles who was always by Horus's side?] 】

"yes."

The Lord of Steel's jaw.

"In addition to that archangel, there are also Motarian and Chagatai Khan, the three of them are the closest brothers to Horus, have you noticed one of the problems: these three people either lack a certain opinion, or lack the consciousness to provoke the beam, they are not able to be the leader of an independent small group, so they can only stand behind Horus."

"Only such a person can maintain a long-term friendship with Horus."

The original snorted softly.

"And those who have opinions like us are destined not to coexist with him for a long time: when he finds that he is unable to lead us, he will in turn be wary of our presence, as our great wolf shepherd god is."

At the end, the Olympian laughed disdainfully, patted the dazed-looking Morgan on the shoulder, and felt a sense of responsibility in his heart: Perturabo felt that it was his duty to teach the Avalonian blood kin, who was not very good at interpersonal relations, to make her realize the cruelty of brothers.

【Leadership...... Or beware of ......]

Morgan raised a frown slightly, and she swallowed the food in her mouth unhurriedly, and then stuck out her tongue and rolled the residue next to her lips into her mouth: this casual act spoke of her relaxation in the presence of the Iron Lord, and Peturabo's eyebrows moved.

It was a long time before Morgan, with some uncertainty, spoke his guess under Perturabo's encouraging gaze.

[Listening to your description, our brother of the wolf shepherd god is a little arrogant: whether it is to lead us or to watch out for some of us, it should not be the right of the emperor, even if he is the son of the first return, he is far from being able to lead us, right?] 】

[He's not a war commander yet.] 】

"Exactly."

Perturabo waved his hand, imprinting his booming voice on Morgan's heart.

"That's the problem with our brother: he always unconsciously imitates our genetic father, imitates every word and deed and every move of the emperor, and quietly blends certain power and majesty that only an emperor can have."

"It's a sign of loyalty when he's the most favored one, but it's not something that can be reassuring if you think about it in a more rational way: that's why I'm not going to support Horus as a commander."

"That's the only reason."

The Pillar of Steel put down his glass, one of his giant palms pressed against the table, and his thick voice seemed to convince Morgan as well as himself, and when he saw Morgan nodding in understanding, the Olympians couldn't wait to end the brief conversation as a victor.

"So, I don't recommend that you choose Horus either: whether we support him or not, the result is pretty much the same, as long as we want to remain independent in front of him, then we will all be on the lookout for the wolf herder."

"Of course, if the emperor insists on choosing the wolf shepherd god, then this problem is not intolerable: he is always qualified, whether as a general or as a war commander."

With his hands behind his back, the Iron Lord condescendingly assessed the wolf shepherd standing in the center of the Great Expedition, a sight that made Morgan frown, but she was just in time to hide the flickering color in her pupils.

The Spider Empress only thought it funny: she had been convincing Perturabo not to choose Horus just a few minutes earlier, but after Pertulabo had agreed, he couldn't wait to reverse himself and start conveying a similar idea to Morgan, as if he were the initiator of the correct view.

But in any case, the outcome was good: after excluding the two options of Perturabo himself and Horus, there were not many people the Lord of Steel could support.

Morgan understood from the beginning that there was a small problem: if he wanted other genetic protogens to support Johnson, it should not be addition, but subtraction.

After all: among Johnson, Horus, Ferus, and other possible candidates, if you have to list those impressive advantages, it is very disadvantageous for Johnson, who is not very exposed, but if you only compare the unbearable shortcomings of these people, then the lord of knights who has no end in the dragon will have an advantage because of his thin presence.

Morgan thought of this fact, and only thought it was ridiculous in her heart, that the cooler delicacies she had collected from the few remaining plates did not continue to speak: she had enough tirade before, and it would not be quite in line with her long-standing character to snatch the lead of the topic in front of Perturabo.

She chose to wait. Wait for the Lord of Steel to take the initiative to stir up the topic.

She knew she wouldn't have to wait too long.

When the Olympians were in a good mood because his views were recognized, his calm mind was only a little thought, and a natural question arose: a question that wrinkled his countenance, and made Perturabo look at Morgan somewhat unnaturally.

He remembered Morgan's original purpose in stirring up the topic: to get him to support Johnson as the commander.

Support Johnson, not him?

The original body frowned, and his originally open voice became a little strange.

"So, your choice from the beginning was Johnson?"

Of course not. 】

Morgan smiled at her brother, not surprised at the awkwardness and a little jealousy of Perturabo's question: Morgan was a little shocked that the Lord of Steel would endure to ask it now.

[I chose to support Johnson to obtain it after understanding the connotation of the position of war commander: after all, although Johnson also knew very well what it meant, he himself was only nostalgic for the power represented by this name, and did not care about the related disadvantages. 】

Morgan shook his glass, the scarlet liquor fluttering like a wave, attracting the Iron Lord's intent, and when the glass closed the view between Morgan and Perturabe, the Genogen could clearly see what her blood brother was looking forward to the next sentence.

[And before that.] 】

Morgan pursed her lips and smiled, her lips pressed against the rim of her glass, and the two thin lips held back the scarlet waves, and winked silently at her Olympia brother.

[You know, brother, I have experienced Johnson's war in the shadows, I have seen him behave in the war, and I have been watching your victory in the galaxy: I remember the battle of both of you and know what you are capable of. 】

[I know very well who is the more capable, qualified, and great man who wears the crown of the Imperial Warlord and bears its boundless burden. 】

[So: After understanding what an unfortunate position this commander is. 】

[I chose Johnson. 】

“……”

Perturabo laughed, looking at Morgan's sparkling pupils, and did not choose to continue to ask the question: he had received a satisfactory answer from Morgan's words.

It doesn't matter whether Morgan has a clear answer or not.

"Well, then, give me a reason to support Johnson, sister."

The Primordial continued, his voice regaining its cheerfulness.

[Reason?] 】

Morgan frowned slightly.

"Yes, reason."

The Iron Lord seems to care a lot about this.

"Although I admit that Johnson is indeed a good commander, and his performance in many battles is indeed remarkable, this is not a reason for me to support him: it is not that there are commanders who are equal to him in the original body, and if I really want to choose a real victorious general, then why don't I vote for Ferus?"

"Admittedly, Morgan, I'm willing to be kind to our Caliban brother because of your relationship with me, but the commander shouldn't be a position that relies on personal connections, and your recommendation can make Johnson the number one candidate in my mind, but he can't make me make up my mind to vote for him."

"Do you have any reason why I would choose Johnson?"

"Does he have any great deeds, or capital among the stars?"

[Of course: no.] 】

Morgan denied it without hesitation, and the Lord of Avalon leaned back in his seat, shaking the wine in his glass, gradually regaining the shrewdness and strength that Ling Peturabo secretly admired.

[But that's why: this is the reason why we chose Johnson.] 】

“……？”

These contradictory words made the Iron Lord frown, but instead laughed secretly in his heart as Morgan's gaze brushed over the corners of Perturabo's distorted brow.

She has different ways of dealing with her different brothers: just as Morgan used the so-called "political interests" to get votes for Johnson in front of Killman, in front of Perturabo, she naturally wanted a different approach, a method that could impress the iron tyrant.

[You know, brother. 】

Morgan's voice sounded soft, but it was extraordinarily convincing.

[The point of this incident is not why Johnson was able to become the commander, but why we chose him: the commander and Johnson are not the focus of the matter. 】

[We: Yes. 】

Morgan held out his finger and dotted on the Iron Lord's breastplate.

[It doesn't matter whether Johnson has the talent to become a war commander, if you just choose a military strategist, then there are more than a dozen options in the original body. 】

[But Johnson will be the commander because of our choice: it's important.] 】

“…… I would like to hear about it. ”

Perturabo's voice was a little heavy, and the corners of his eyebrows were raised to speak of great interest: the Lord of Steel had captured in Morgan's words some elements that appealed to him, but he would not be able to fully identify them for a while.

This made him a little anxious.

But Morgan remained unhurried.

[Peturabo, do you know who was a candidate for this name when the word commander was first coined?] 】

The original body nodded, like a treasure.

"Horus, Ferrus, and some people call St. Giles: in fact, not just in the beginning, but until now, they are all popular candidates for the battle manager."

"But almost everyone agrees: only Ferus can threaten Horus."

[yes, they all think so......]

The Lord of Avalon shook his head, smiled and sighed, and his sigh made Perturabo frown instinctively, and the next aria from Morgan's mouth made the Olympian's brow furrow deeper, little by little.

[Horus, the son of the first return, has enjoyed thirty years of the emperor's side, and rightfully possesses all the glory of the stars, and his legions are praised for everything they do, and even the slightest of his exploits are rewarded with countless praises. 】

[When the position of commander was proposed, everyone thought that it would be in Horus's pocket, even himself: no one cares about the merits of the other brothers, no one cares about the sacrifices of the other legions, shouldn't all the glory belong to Horus? 】

“……”

The original body frowned, he instinctively upset at these words.

He couldn't argue with it, because what Morgan said was the truth.

……

This made him even more unhappy.

[And Ferus, our third returning brother, whose legion claims to have conquered the most worlds, and whose Iron Hand will always stand at the center of the Great Expedition: people will only remember that the Empire has such an Iron Division, and people will only praise Ferus for every infinite victory and sacrifice, and people will only preach that he is the only master of war, and a person who can truly control iron and blood. 】

“…… Tsk......"

The Iron Lord's face twitched, and a haze began to build up in his eyes.

Morgan, on the other hand, smiled, her voice continuing to tug at Perturabo's heartstrings.

[So, when the glory of the battle commander is proposed. Everyone took it for granted that it was either Horus or Ferrus, and that it could not be anyone else: Johnson, who had fought in the shadows for twenty or thirty years and had made countless sacrifices, would not be counted, and Morgan, who had crawled in the Far East and sheltered hundreds of worlds, would not be counted. 】

With that, the Lord of Avalon waved his hand at Perturabo.

[And Perturabo, who has made countless sacrifices, captured countless strong fortresses, left garrisons in the world, and silently endured all hardships and dangers, will not be counted in the same way. 】

Under Morgan's heavy voice, the Iron Lord's face was equally heavy.

[All the spotlights are rightfully on those legions: the Shadow Moon and the Blood Angel, the Iron Hand and the Emperor's Son, oh, and the indomitable Imperial Fist, it seems that the Empire can take down the galaxy with only these few legions, and it seems that the sacrifices of the other legions are not worth mentioning to them. 】

[Dan...... Why? 】

Morgan's words popped across the Iron Lord's brow.

[Why can they ignore the sacrifice of the Iron Warriors, why can the reputation of the Ultramarines be trapped in the five hundred worlds, why can my Dawnbreaker shelter countless mortals and Imperial subjects in the Far Eastern Frontier, but still have to endure different rumors within the Empire: Why do we give so much, the people will always only see them, only to Horus and Ferus, only to the Shadow Moon and the Holy Blood Angel, only to the Emperor's Son and the Iron Hand. 】

[Oh, and the Fist of the Empire.] 】

The last sentence of emotion almost pierced the iron curtain of Peturabo.

[Why, brother? 】

When Morgan's fingers pressed against the Iron Lord's breastplate again, she felt the undulation of the waves.

Why can they ignore our sacrifice and glory? Why do they never consider our status and qualifications? Why do they only look at the center? 】

[Why ......]

Can they ignore our voices? 】

“……”

——————

[No one can ignore our voice, Perturabo, my brother, we are also sacrificing for the Empire, our efforts and efforts are no less than any legion, our merits should be confirmed, our voices should be heard, and our attitudes should be treated in the most timely and serious manner! 】

[What we want, it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter what we choose: what matters is that we cannot be ignored and that we cannot continue to tolerate neglect of us. 】

[We want all the people of the empire to hear our voices, we want to let those who are indifferent know our attitude, and we want to highlight our strength with our persistence: so that they will no longer despise our bloody battles in the shadow of the Great Expedition. 】

We can be selfless, we can shed blood silently without reciprocation, but this is not a reason for them to ignore it: but this is not a reason for them to despise us. 】

They are not worthy to despise us. 】

When we speak. 】

[Them! 】

【A must!】 】

[Face it up! 】

[Serious! 】

[Respect! 】

——————

[Even a war commander who is not suitable for the Empire? 】

[Then if we think: he should be the commander of the empire!] 】

[Not for anything else: just because of the Lord of Steel, he was chosen.] 】

[Just because we ......]

[Chose him.] 】

——————

Steel roars. 】

[The world must tremble. 】

——————

[Steel appointed Johnson.] 】

[The commander can only be Johnson. 】

——————

[He's not important.] 】

[The commander is not important. 】

None of them matter. 】

Morgan clenched his fingers into a fist and pressed it against Perturabo's shoulder.

[We, only us. 】

Our will: what matters. 】

——————

“……”

Morgan didn't calculate how long her Olympian brother had been silent: but when she looked up, Morgan saw a long-lost smile of temperament and pleasure on Perturabo's face.

The Lord of Steel said only one word.

Very short sentence.

The words were as unquestionable as a king, both to Morgan and to Perturabo.

——————

"Very well, sister."

"The next time you meet Johnson, remember to tell him for me."

"What if: he won't let me down in the years to come."

“……”

"So ......"

"He is the commander I chose."

"He is the commander of the Iron Warriors."

(End of chapter)