"So, you mean to say that I shouldn't point out the problem with Peturabo?"

“…… Are you serious, Morgan? ”

Dorne's words were calm, with a hint of genuine confusion in his calm, like his frowning brows, which spoke of the stone's contempt for such trivial matters: but in the face of his blood relatives, the Lord of Inwitt was willing to pause for a moment.

He turned, stood up straight, his hands habitually clenched into fists, and hung down at his waist, pulling away the Templars who had gathered closely: especially Sigismund, who had been staring at Morgan from the beginning, sword hilt in hand, eyes burning and eager to try.

The warrior who emerged from the slums of Terra had already made an impression on his genetic father: Sigismund had been drafted into the Guardian of Honor of the Lord of Inwitt some half a century earlier, the Templars of the first company of the Fist of the Empire.

In Dorne's mind, he placed Sigismund on the same level as his captain of the guard, Akhamus, and gave him almost complete trust, but he never revealed it to anyone, especially Sigismund: for the Templar had enough pride, impulsiveness, and recklessness.

Ever since he had recently broken through the Liberator's imposing gladiatorial arena and returned from the World Eater Legion laden with honor and pride, the Templar's vision had risen to unimaginable heights, and the desire for war had trumped respect for the Primordial Entity as he looked at Morgan and Pertulabbo.

Dorn saw all of this and denied it, hoping that his champion swordsman would one day be able to achieve a valuable defeat in the arena in the future, so as to temper his arrogance: but Dorne's character meant that he would never take the initiative to meddle in these matters, and the only thing he would do was to move Sigismund to the farthest corner of the corridor to avoid any unpleasantness caused by his offensive gaze towards the Lord of Avalon.

After all this, the Lord of Inwitt focused all his attention on his silver-haired blood body, and he first frowned, carefully observed Morgan's state, and after making sure that there was no major problem, he pointed to the bench on the side of the hallway, and motioned for them to sit down and talk slowly.

As for why there was such a useless thing as a corridor bench in this tower designed by Perturabo himself, it was because the Lord of Steel, when he finally made improvements, had been in the habit of asking his blood relatives for advice on the Avalonian blood, and graciously approving the innocuous parts of it.

For example: an ordinary bench that can withstand the weight of the genetically produced.

“……”

Dorn chose to stagger half of his body with Morgan, he followed behind his Avalon blood, silent, slightly nervously staring at Morgan's every movement, and silently raised a hand, bent his elbow, his fist against his waist, and the center of gravity of his body moved slightly forward, as if he was ready to take a lunge forward at any moment, so as to hold on to Morgan, who was already crumbling in his eyes.

It was obvious that Dorne was obviously not used to this kind of movement, and he was also very unaccustomed to doing such a thing, his face was tense, and his limbs were so stiff, and he followed Morgan like a rusty tin man, and walked the way of more than ten meters.

As soon as Morgan sat down and nodded to him, Dorne straightened his waist and was stunned for a moment, before he consciously lowered his fingers at his waist and stood there like a soldier, blocking the half of the sunlight in front of Morgan: a strange scene to outsiders, but the Invites did not find anything wrong with it.

His silence lasted for a few seconds, until his stone-like countenance was not as hard as it had been at first, and finally it managed to squeeze a few words out of its closed lips.

"Will you still be able to participate in the next expeditions and battles, Morgan?"

[It's just a small thing, tomorrow will be fine.] 】

Morgan laughed, she hadn't deceived Dorne too much about it.

The Lord of Invit nodded, and he took Morgan's words as a firm commitment from his blood relatives, and he no longer worried, and began to think about the topic that the Lord of Avalon wanted to talk to him about: the silence and embarrassment of the previous were gone, and the familiar cold and hard countenance resurfaced.

"Well, let's move on to the previous question: do you mean, do you think I shouldn't accuse Perturabo of the mistakes he made in the military council? Although he is inflicting losses on the Empire. ”

Morgan's brow jumped as she licked her blood-soaked lips and thought about how to soften the atmosphere of the discussion a little bit: congenial conversation was her forte.

[No, Dorne, it's not wrong for you to point out your brother's wrong behavior, and the problem you pointed out does exist, and even Peturabo can't object to this, I just want to remind you here......]

"I'm not saying the right thing, am I?"

In Morgan's momentary hesitation, Dorne said it naturally.

"I know what you mean, Morgan: you want to say that I shouldn't have pointed out every mistake Perturabo made so bluntly, I should have taken care of his heart and ...... Face...... Is it right to bring forth those transgressions in gentler words, so as not to stir up unnecessary anger and violence in the hearts of our brothers? ”

【……】

Morgan was stunned for a moment.

You know, you know all of this, Dorne? 】

"Because I went through the same thing, about fifty years ago."

Dorn said.

"At that time, I also pointed out to a brother the same problem in his strategic deployment: his results were indeed impeccable, but his original purpose in making plans was wrong, and he was obsessed with winning the best part of the war, rather than dutifully fulfilling the Emperor's orders."

"The occasion was a little more solemn and relaxed than the present room, after all, after the victory of the expedition, and in the presence of the other two brothers, there were also soldiers from the various legions: I know that most of them thought I was making a fuss, and the brother whom I accused also regarded my words as an insult to his dignity."

"Eventually, the matter was settled, but it was also very unpleasant, and I became aware of the problem after that incident: our brothers, regardless of their character, were generally unreceptive to direct criticism of them, and their personalities were full of useless arrogance and pride, which, if they were only to speak out, would lead them into unwarranted rage."

[But you still did it today, and there was not the slightest euphemism in your words.] 】

Morgan sighed.

"That's true."

Dorn nodded, not making any excuses for himself.

"Although I recognized this and thought about change, I still couldn't overcome some of my instincts: when I saw problems arise, I pointed them out directly, and I couldn't tolerate verbal gimmicks to cover up the damage caused by them, even though it would cause some harm to our brothers."

"And just as they couldn't control the inexplicable arrogance in their hearts, I couldn't control my impulse: Perturabo was out of control during the conversation, but I couldn't say how calm I was."

"It's my fault, Morgan: I still haven't overcome my shortcoming."

"There is no right or wrong debate between me and Peturabo, we are all speaking for our own positions: you are right, such a debate is fruitless and will only waste valuable time and achievements."

Dorne was revealing little by little.

[That's right......]

Morgan pondered for a few seconds, continuing his weak persona, while also trying to trade silence for more details, such as asking Dorne to add something to himself, but the reality quickly disappointed, because Dorn felt that he had said enough, and he became the silent black iron statue again.

The Lord of Avalon was a little disappointed.

[Well, Dorne, it seems that we have no more contradictions to speak of, and since this matter is over, let it pass, and I will settle it on Peturabo's side: but you, my brother Invit, I have a few more words to ask you. 】

The Lord of Avalon coughed lightly, and she put the conversation aside for a moment, glancing at the Fists of the Empire scattered around her: in a maximum of ten minutes, these people would be taken by Dorne to his warship and rush together to the nightmarish front line to meet the army of Herud Xenomorphs who had slaughtered countless lives.

As soon as he thought of this, the voice of the original body became earnest.

[Listen, brother, I know that what I am saying is a bit verbose, and the relevant documents have already been transmitted to the display screen of your battleship, but here I still have to tell you a few words about the Heruds you are fighting against.] 】

Dorn didn't respond, he just leaned forward again, and struck a gesture of listening attentively, his pupils of great seriousness under his straight eyebrows, carefully memorizing every word.

[First of all, rely on your long-range firepower and fleet support in battle, don't let your warriors fight those aliens in close quarters, pull as far as you can, and don't enter caves or fortresses if you can: The best 5,000 men under the command of Perturabo were killed in the underground transportation network of the Heruds. 】

"I'll restrain them."

[Secondly, listen to me, if the war situation is unfavorable, don't be lucky, prepare to evacuate as soon as possible, the Heruds are more numerous than you and I think, and once they form a wave of migration, it will be enough to break the defense line built by a legion: you are only going to conduct a tentative battle, and you don't have to hold those worlds as the territory of the empire. 】

“…… I try to do it. ”

Dorn nodded with some difficulty.

[Last ......]

Morgan smiled a little bitterly.

[Dorne, I've always heard of the Fist of the Empire's prestige, destroying cities and conquering everything, but allow me to say that in this battle, even if you are sure of capturing the enemy world at the front, I don't recommend that you do it: a tentative attack is all you should do. 】

“…… Why? ”

The Invites frowned, and Morgan pointed in the direction of the conference room.

[If you can really conquer that world, it won't matter, after all, it will be beneficial for the whole battle: just in the next military meeting, you will need to carefully weigh your words, brother.] 】

"Words?"

[I mean: use some skills. 】

“……”

"I can't agree with that, Morgan."

Dorne was silent for a moment, his face still grim, staring intently at Morgan.

"The next military meeting means that this expedition will begin again, and we must put aside red tape in the face of the great enemy: I know what your words mean, Morgan, but no one's emotions should be controlled by war, and the lives of countless soldiers."

"If our brother Peturabo still doesn't recognize this, then I will point it out: again until he can recognize the problem."

【…… Ha ......】

For a few seconds the air seemed to stand still at the blunt words, until Morgan shook his head and laughed helplessly after a long silence.

[Dorne, just a minute or two ago, you told me about the mistake you made decades ago, and less than ten minutes ago, you made it again, and once again witnessed the bitter consequences: Why, then, are you still reluctant to change?] 】

"Because if I change, I'm going to make a bigger mistake."

The Fist of Empire's genetic prototype looked at his blood relatives and paused word by word.

"Morgan, I never believed that I would be a perfect person, and I never believed that there would be perfect people in the galaxy, each of us will make mistakes, and what we have to do is to make trade-offs again and again: to bear those small mistakes to avoid those big mistakes, to bear those mistakes that will only hurt ourselves in the end, to avoid other mistakes from hurting more innocent people."

The Spider Queen raised an eyebrow.

[Then do you think it is a bigger mistake to take care of Peturabo's shortcomings?] 】

"Of course."

Dorne raised his head slightly.

"There have been countless Iron Warriors and Mortal auxiliaries who have lost their lives because of this shortcoming in your mouth, and Perturabo's hatred for me is nothing compared to them: therefore, I will only point out the mistakes he has made in front of him again and again until he makes a change on the subject, until the blood of the Imperial Warriors is not shed in vain."

[Then you can also choose a more appropriate way to remind him.] 】

"Like those tricks of yours? Have they worked so far? ”

Dorne simply asked rhetorically, leaving the Lord of Avalon speechless, but the Invites laughed briefly, and his next words rang in Morgan's heart over and over again like a wake-up call.

"Morgan, I respect your habit of getting along with Perturabo, but I don't believe you don't see the problem: our brother is gifted, he has an innate ability in mathematics and logic, and in that case, he really doesn't realize how wrong his methods are in reality?"

【……】

"Perturabo may have a lot of problems, but stupidity is not one of them."

The Invites shook their heads.

"He knew, he always knew, that he was only pretending that he did not know, that he was only running away from the mistakes he had made, whispering in his private fortress: in this case it is impossible for you to move him with those so-called linguistic techniques of your mouth, and he has a thousand ways to continue to deceive himself in his own heart without putting the facts and advice before him in the most straightforward way."

"Only when we push him into a corner, only when he has no way out, will he see the real facts, and he will see the advice we have given him."

"As for how angry he would be: that's normal."

"But, it doesn't matter."

As always, Dorne paused as soon as he had finished the necessary tirade, waiting for the Lord of Avalon to give him feedback, and Morgan responded with a rhetorical question followed by silence.

So, have you decided to play this role, Dorne? 】

"That's right."

The Invita nodded.

"I'm not sure if anyone else is doing it too, but I'll do it."

"I know that this matter has nothing to do with me strictly speaking, I have no right to dictate the tactical style of the Iron Warriors, and I should also take care of Peturabo's emotions, but his actions have endangered the interests of the entire Great Expedition and the Human Empire, and countless resources and lives have been wasted by him: then, I will naturally be his enemy on this issue."

[But in many cases, Perturabo's actions are not necessarily completely wrong.] 】

"No one can judge right or wrong, Morgan, you can't, neither can I, and neither can he: the only one who can judge us is the emperor, and if the emperor will rule on this matter, then I will naturally respect his verdict, but before that, ......"

"I'm not going to stop."

Dorne uttered the words.

No one will question his determination.

【……】

Morgan laughed.

[Don't be afraid, after being forced into a corner by you, Perturabo will give up on himself, which will make the situation worse: he can still rely on some illusory things to restrain himself, but once the bottom line in his heart is broken, the future situation is not something that anyone can predict. 】

"I'm not worried about that."

Dorne shook his head, his attitude more determined than Morgan had imagined.

"He is our brother, Morgan, and he has the same blood as us, and although he, like most of our brothers, is bewitched by the strange pride in his heart, I believe that when he truly opens his eyes, admits his mistakes, and faces reality, he will change and become the true Lord of Steel."

Dorne chewed on his every word.

"He is capable and qualified: he is no worse than any of us."

"I believe that Peturabo can do it, and every one of our brothers can do it."

Dorne smiled, his simple, stubborn, and strangely optimistic about his blood brothers made Morgan raise an eyebrow, and the Lord of Avalon was as quick as he could, and this was what Dorne really thought: he truly believed that when his brothers saw reality, they would be invincible, and they would be the best in the galaxy.

The last one thought so......

Seems to be her Robert?

【……】

Faced with this naïve thought, Morgan simply responded with silence.

[So, you left that proposal for him for this purpose: I hope he can see the reality clearly, and I hope that your proposal will help him in his plan? 】

"That's true."

The Invita nodded.

[In that case, why don't you emphasize that book?] 】

Morgan slowly stood up, and the conversation was nearing its end.

[Why don't you tell him about the importance of the book, and simply give it to Perturabo: he is full of affirmation of your ability, Dorne, just as you are affirming him, but if you say a few more words, I believe that Perturabo will redouble the value of the book.] 】

“…… No. ”

The Invet stepped back, one of his hands raised again, still ready to hold his blood relative, but on his face, the seriousness of his face left only simple words that sounded unkind.

"You don't have to."

[Why?] 】

"Because...... Not necessarily. ”

——————

"Instead of thinking about these things, let's think about the competition after the expedition."

【Athletics? Have we finalized a bill on athletics? 】

"No, Morgan, it's just from my own experience: when I had an argument with another brother decades ago, it was a duel of their respective champion swordsmen as the final judge."

"Here's what he taught me."

"From the Legion's point of view, this is indeed the most appropriate solution, and I don't think Peturabo will refuse this suggestion: a competition to end this debate and let the dust settle."

【……】

[Excuse me, Dorne.] 】

[Who is the brother you said had a dispute with you decades ago? 】

"Johnson."

【…… Johnson ?!! 】

"Yes, Johnson, the other two attendees are Horus and Fogham: Johnson and I had just returned to make an expedition to the Midnight Star Sector, and our conflict erupted after that expedition."

“…… What's wrong? ”

【…… No, it didn't ...... much]

[I just found out that Johnson still has such a story......]

[Original ......]

——————

The lion didn't even tell her!

He has something to do, and he will hide it from her!

Is...... Is......

——————

"Unforgivable ......"

"How dare he ......"

Steel, a piece of resentful steel, was constantly wandering around the boardroom.

From the chair on the left to the hanging bookshelf on the right, from the map on the wall to the interstellar sand table on the table, time passed minute by minute, but the resentment in his heart did not stop: when Perturabo returned to his original position, his brow still furrowed, his anger still churning in his heart.

How nice it would be if there was a erring trident here at this time......

The Iron Lord instinctively expected such a thing to happen, though he would never admit it, and did not open the door to his heir: after hesitating for ten minutes, Perturabo returned to his original position, venting his anger in a simple way.

Drawing, working, planning, designing new forts and defenses, and ......

This repetitive mental work occupies the vast majority of the Iron Lord's personal time, and the tools and copywriting related to it will be placed in the most convenient place: the reports of past battles are on his left, the dense filing cabinets are behind him, the various Legion numbers are within reach, and the proposal of Dorne ......

“……”

Perturabo's face was even more gloomy.

He saw the book as if he were looking at some abominable alien, and for the next dozen seconds, the Iron Lord fell into a long silence, and he glanced at the abominable book not far away, and his eyes kept jumping.

But at last, with a tightly furrowed brow, the Iron Lord picked up the book and casually turned one of the pages: with a slight glance, his brow unconsciously relaxed, and then greedily turned a few more pages, nodding his head in praise of the new words and the suggestions he had never thought of.

Looks like Dorne ......

…… Dorne ......

At the thought of the name, the Iron Lord's face distorted again, and he turned into a terrible monster, and he spat it for a moment, then threw the book into the distance, and continued to bury himself in his work, repeating the same work that he had done a thousand times: marking the wrong ones, then drawing the course, and the many drawings he had already mastered, and a new design that had just poured in a few dozen seconds earlier......

“……”

Perturabo's pen had stopped, he froze there, perhaps for a few seconds, and when he looked up, he was under the palm of his hand the new design that had just been half-drawn: after a moment of hesitation, the Lord of Steel cautiously approached the book he had thrown away, as if approaching some unknown monster, he picked it up again, and quickly flipped two pages to find the drawing, but then something new caught his attention.

A new trench design, a new idea that had never been seen before, was enough to spark inspiration in him: it came from the ...... of the Holy Terra and the Fist of the Empire

“…… Tsk......"

Immediately, the book was thrust away and rolled to the other side of the table, and the Iron Lord forcibly ordered him to turn around, and quickly returned to his original position, plunging headlong into his previous job, and stuffing the data and drawings into his mind.

Yes, he didn't need it, although it did make some sense......

Perturabo admonished himself.

But he had more important things to do.

Drawing, office, planning, new design and trench planning......

The blueprint, and the perfect trench......

“……”

“…… Is! ”

After struggling and wandering in vain for ten minutes at his post, Perturabo jerked up like a man in the water, breathing heavily, his face turned muffled red from shame and other unknown reasons, and his gaze instinctively looked at the book, only to be terminated by the frenzied screaming of his brain.

He didn't need to look at it, it didn't have any reference value......

He should look at something else......

Right! Other!

Look at the table! Look at the drawings! Take a look at past casualty reports! Look at the little objects in the room, look at the pendant on the wall, look at the burning fire in the distance, look at the goblet that Morgan has there......

Goblet?!

The primordial's gaze froze.

The next moment, the Iron Lord stared at the goblet, staring at the few drops of coagulated blood that remained on it, as if he could see the face of his blood relatives who had turned pale from exertion and exhaustion, and the reluctant smile under the paleness, and the blood at the corners of his mouth.

“……”

No one knew what Perturabo was thinking, not even himself, he froze there as if he had lost his mind, letting time go by, his lips getting dry, his fingers trembling, his vision distorting, and he couldn't even stand on his legs: only the veins on his forehead told of the terrible confrontation going on in his brain.

He was silent.

Until he raised his head and let out a helpless sigh.

At last the Lord of Steel took his own steps, and he walked quickly to the book of Dorne's proposals, took it away, and walked away briskly, as if he were hiding from something, not forgetting to take the goblet with him.

Then, with great solemnity, the prototype of the Iron Warrior Legion placed the goblet on his most precious display board, then turned his head to pick up the book, and with a moment of disgust, he found a seat and sat down, his rough fingers caressing the equally rough cover: the Lord of Steel despised his brother for a moment because of the unartistic packaging.

Then, he flipped it open.

This time, instead of turning one of the pages at random, he solemnly began his own reading from the first page, beginning to read word by word, silently reading his brother's outspoken writing in indignation.

At first, there was anger.

But the original soon fell silent.

After a sigh, only Sasha's notes were left in the room.

——————

When Morgan had finally done all her work and had sent her Invet brothers to the battleship, it was a while before she finally returned to the room, distraught at the silence.

Luckily, it was better than she had imagined, and Perturabo was just standing in front of the huge star map, with his back to the door, silent, and in his customary office behind him, Morgan could see Dorne's notes securely laid out there, and next to this spread out data board, densely packed with countless words.

The Lord of Avalon saw all of this, and she didn't say anything, but walked lonely all the way to Perturabo's back, patiently waiting for the Lord of Steel to appreciate every detail of the star map with relish, and then turned to communicate with her.

It is worth noting that when Peturabo saw Morgan for the first time, his body seemed to tremble imperceptibly, his heavy lips were pursed together, and he did not speak immediately, but after a little stunned, he opened the topic a little stiffly.

He never turned around completely, as if he was running away from something.

"You ......"

"Are you done with your business?"

[There are two more pieces, one of which is related to you, brother.] 】

"Say?"

Peturabo was interested, and Morgan didn't go around in circles.

[In a previous battle, my Pale Rider Legion captured the complete remains of a high-value Herud caste, with all its organs and body compositions intact, so I brought it with me on my warship. 】

"Are you going to give it to me?"

The original body leaned over to the side, and he clearly understood Morgan's overtones.

[That's right. 】

Morgan nodded.

[Your talent in this area is unparalleled, Perturabo, I have heard that from the day you fought the Heruds, you began to study countermeasures that could decipher their weapons of time: I believe this valuable wreck will be able to help you in your research. 】

[What's more, we do have plenty of time to study now, don't we?] 】

Perturabo was silent for a moment, and he quickly nodded in acquiescence.

"Looks like I'm going to need to lock me in my private lab for a while."

Speaking of this, the Olympian suddenly hesitated, he thought for a moment, and his two pupils stared at Morgan and licked his lips, as if he was making up his mind.

"Morgan, you don't mind helping me during my absence."

The Lord of Avalon just smiled.

[I'm sure your Trident and War Blacksmiths can do their best, but if it's just a small favor, I'll be happy to help them enough, brother: I'll keep an eye on the Iron Warriors during your absence.] 】

"That's good."

Perturabo nodded.

"I'll tell Frix them to cooperate with you in the meantime."

"And the second thing, Morgan."

[As for the second thing, it is my personal matter, and it has nothing to do with the expedition. 】

Morgan smiled, a smile that made Perturabo lose interest in asking questions, and he continued to focus on the star map, and as the Lord of Avalon said goodbye and turned to leave, the Spider Queen's fingers ran between her lips and connected to her eldest daughter aboard the Aura.

[Are you ready, Aniah?] 】

"Ready, for now."

Virgo's voice still sounds so reliable and reassuring.

"The Star Channel has been adjusted, and when you return to the battleship."

"You can always have a long-distance call with His Excellency Johnson......"

"Let's have a good talk with him."

[Yes.] 】

Morgan.

[After all, it's true that we've been out of touch for too long, haven't we?] 】

“……”

Virgo was silent for a moment.

"The strange desire for control in your heart seems to be growing exponentially, Mother."

【……】

[No, Aniah, don't be there foolishly. 】

[I'm just...... Somewhat boring. 】

(End of chapter)