"Revenge?"

"Revenge is recklessness."

"While I admit that revenge is necessary many times, it is still a reckless act: ephemeral justice does not give long-term indulgence to anything, and I don't mind people taking revenge, but I don't want to see anyone live for revenge."

"Or even worse: to provoke a war only in the name of revenge."

"Fighting for pure revenge? That must be the worst thing to do. ”

[The worst? 】

"That's right, the worst."

Morgan nodded, not denying it, her movements were a little hesitant due to exhaustion, and Dorne noticed this, and he deliberately gave his blood relatives more time to think.

"I know you're worried."

Then he shoved a rough blanket into Morgan's hand, looking unusually reluctant, and Morgan only looked at the blanket in his hand with some surprise: it was far rougher than the Spider Queen had imagined.

As for Morgan's overly skilful command, the Invites did not doubt whether the Legion's secrets had been revealed. Has Morgan been spying on Fist of the Empire? Dorne didn't care about any of this, believing that none of his blood relatives would be so despicable.

"Talk as you go."

[Perturabo allowed.] 】

It's been a long time since the Genoplasma of the Fist of Empire has officially rested.

[What's wrong?] 】

Maybe it's her previous research, maybe it's her own experience, or maybe it's her own talent: in short, the moment the Lord of Avalon takes over part of the command system, she is extremely smoothly connected to the logical chain that keeps the entire Imperial Fists running at high speed, as if she herself is an indispensable core component of the system.

The Dawnbreakers' genetic mother had sketched in her mind a grand plan that would span a hundred years of oppression, and she didn't think too long, for Dorne had already taken care of his official business quickly, and then came to Morgan with one of them: it was clear that he had something serious to talk about with his blood relatives.

Dorn didn't speak, he just quietly watched his blood relative, watched her skillfully connect the companies of the two legions, complete the beautiful outflanking and counterattack, and after making sure that the Lord of Avalon was fully capable of the job, the Invitus put all their energy into the holographic projection equipment in front of him: what was handed over to Morgan was only a few marginal battle lines, and Dorn himself was responsible for the real battle.

“…… OK. ”

"Not in terms of motivation."

They work well together, and this tacit understanding is simply natural.

Thus began the present conversation between the Lord of Inwitt and his blood relatives.

"We must think about more things, and we must realize that the Legion was established for the continuation of humanity and the Great Expedition of the Empire, and although we have the power to command them, we are not qualified to use the power of the Legion to satisfy our own selfish desires."

The Invites did not hesitate to admit it.

But just as Morgan turned, Dorne called out to his blood relatives again.

Rogdorn only hesitated for a moment, then nodded, and he said two words with exactly the same meaning for the first time, as a way to increase the stakes in his own conclusion.

Dorne's eyes narrowed.

Presumably the same is true of Dorne: Morgan watches as the bloodshot in the eyes of the Lord of Inwitt grows, and she understands that Dorne must now want to take a break, both physically and mentally.

The Spider Empress skillfully commanded companies she couldn't even name, and with a little observation, she could dispatch them to the right position, only slightly slower than the Seventh Legion's main body, while Morgan was filling in the gaps in the gaps on each front, stabilizing the collapse of the fortress communities in the blink of an eye.

The Lord of the Emperor's Fist answered the previous question.

While Dorne was at work, the Lord of Avalon took a second to observe the elite of the Imperial Fist, and the more sons of Dorne not far away: she noticed that the warriors of the Seventh Legion seemed to maintain a very delicate and interesting balance.

Well......

Morgan thought for a moment, blinked his eyes, and decided to take advantage of the big man of the Imperial Fists Legion: after all, at Morgan's request, Pracquez almost without hesitation agreed to fight alongside the Iron Warriors, and the Lord of Avalon was not sure if there were any more reasonable officers in the Seventh Legion like him.

Is this the reason for the Legion atmosphere? Or is it the nature of the genetic seed?

The original body didn't understand, and she didn't care much about it, the Lord of Avalon preferred the liveliness and activity of the Dawnbreaker Legion to the solemn atmosphere of the Seventh Legion: this lively atmosphere even affected the Legion of the Empress's Guard, who had been fighting alongside the Second Legion, allowing these most powerful mortal warriors to cultivate a variety of hobbies and cultural festivals within the Legion in addition to the battle.

Why do you think fighting for revenge is a bad choice, Dorne? 】

After all, it's a war of the Fist of the Empire.

"They have done very well, and they have all done their tasks well, and the battalion numbered fourteen has done particularly well, while the battalion numbered seventy-seven has made several mistakes: I am just curious if the reason you brought them here was to make up for your lack of troops?"

Dorn paused, he looked serious.

Dorn thought so, he did so, and the move paid off for the Invites: when the two genomorphs stood in front of a huge holographic projection screen at the same time, the efficiency of the entire chain of command began to rise at a rate visible to the naked eye.

"When we come together, our scattered forces can better contribute to the Empire: thank you, Morgan, I was still thinking about how to propose this to Perturabo, after all, he didn't seem to be interested in any of my proposals."

Dorne nodded.

"Although nominally a vengeful expedition, the motive behind such an expedition should be the removal of the enemies of the Empire, the recapture of lost territories, and the prevention of greater harm to our enemies, not just revenge: the least important thing in a vengeful expedition is revenge itself."

"No...... No. ”

Dorn summed it up.

Morgan rubbed his sour eyelids, and Dorne watched the action.

Dorne pursed his lips.

The two primordials had been communicating in a whisper, but it wasn't until they approached the heart of the Queen of Glory and the air around them became silent that their conversation began to touch on confidential matters.

[It's just lip service, and Peturabo also knows the benefits of this.] 】

Morgan nodded, and walked away, Dorne close behind, neither of the two tired primordials was fast, especially Morgan: due to her height, her pace was far inferior to her own Inwitt blood relatives, but the Lord of the Emperor's Fist still followed her very patiently.

The Invites smiled, his smile always reassuring.

Morgan is also a little tired.

[Is revenge also a desire? 】

"He didn't."

Their souls are undoubtedly hot and passionate, like the father of their genes, but their outward appearance is locked in a cage of coldness and restraint, just like the father of their genes.

The air planes and the fleet of the Second Legion helped the Invites take over the skies again, and it looked like they would never be lost, and more reinforcements poured in with the flickering runes at the edge of the screen: everything was so pleasing to the eye, especially the advance on the front line, which was only ten minutes slower than Dorn's original meticulous plan, and considering that Mo's battle line was in a hurry, the difference was not worth mentioning.

Words cannot be refused.

"Morgan."

It was about two minutes before Dorne came out of the room: unlike his usual widlingness, this time the Invet hesitated for a long time before coming to Morgan.

[Any questions?] 】

Even that Killiman.

For Rogdorn, the long war lasted more than a month, far longer than any Fist of the Empire, as Astarte warriors were still able to rotate and replace, and Dorn had never left his command since the moment the battle began.

"I got the news that you brought the battalion of two Iron Warriors here?"

"No, I have made mistakes in this: and more than once: impulsiveness is my weakness."

"There's no reason for me to refuse, do I?"

The original paused.

【…… Interesting. 】

This scene reminded Morgan of her heirs, and she secretly compared Lana and the others who were standing not far away with these Imperial Fists in front of her, and then found that even the most serious and silent Lana and others in the Dawnbreaker Legion could be called [lively by nature] compared to these Imperial Fists in front of her.

Dorne's tone remained the same.

[Didn't Pracques tell you? 】

[Anyway, the enemies in this system have been completely wiped out, and our fleet needs to stay here for a while: while they adjust and resupply, I think we senior commanders can take a break.] 】

When it was all over, Dorn was in command of the Seventh Legion in the aftermath of the aftermath, and when he had done that, he took his hands off his keyboard and turned his attention for the first time away from the battle: a strange question from the Lord of Avalon.

"I approve of the vengeance of a mortal for the harm done to his relatives and friends, for the vengeance of blood relatives is a matter of course; I also recognize that the Empire is mobilizing more forces for a vengeful expedition for the sake of a failed campaign, because an adversary who can bring down the expeditionary fleet will inevitably inflict greater damage on the Empire, and we must put an end to it before it gets worse. ”

"So since then, I've been doubling down on this issue."

"Isn't a fist a weapon?"

"And it won't affect the joint operation plan you have in mind."

Do you want Ania to make more desserts this time, counting her as a treat?

[You agree?] 】

"There are no real cases to back it up."

Or maybe it's the wolf shepherd.

“…… What?! ”

Morgan asked, confused, but instead of waiting for Dorne's answer, she watched as her Invita brother turned around and walked into his own private lounge: the room looked no different from the other rooms in the hallway, just as plain.

Dorne stared at his eyes, which were almost bloodshot, his gaze swept over the blanket again and again, hesitating, but not at all wanting to return.

With the exception of a few active ones, the entire Seventh Legion was like a gigantic show about Rogdorn: just that some warriors were in nature, while others were clearly pushing their agitated instincts.

Morgan was happy to hear this, at least she didn't have to worry too much about the psychological problems of the most elite mortal soldiers under her command after a long military career: she also counted on these people to become her grasp of the grassroots of the Far Eastern frontier after retiring, and their descendants should continue to shed blood and sweat for her.

Morgan pinned her dry hair behind her ears with some impatience, her lips dry.

Morgan smiled a little tiredly.

The Invites were cautious, he knew that he still had thousands of heirs scattered all over the front at this time, and he was not willing to leave the fate of these people in the hands of any outsider, but the Invites were not stupid, and he knew that he had to accept help from others now, after all, he was very tired, and the slightest mistake could lead to disastrous results on the front line.

Then he heard a chuckle from his own blood relatives in Avalon, which made Dorne turn around with a blank face, and looked directly at his sister with a little confusion: underneath the short, somewhat messy silver hair, there was a tiredness that even the most resolute countenance could hide.

Morgan smiled slightly sarcastically.

"For revenge is an illusory concept that disturbs the minds of men, and it is fatal to any military commander: especially someone like us who is at the helm of thousands of warriors, responsible for countless imperial worlds and countless expeditionary fleets."

But Dorn was more serious: the bloodshot in his eyes could not be concealed, and his skin, which had been as tough as a rock, now seemed to have just experienced a rainstorm and was visibly old: even for the genetic prototype, the high-intensity command that lasted for dozens of days was an almost unbearable thing.

Everything is a little ...... It's perfect?

Why was Morgan so familiar with the chain of command of the Seventh Legion?

"Maybe he's missing, maybe he's wrong because he thinks it's not important enough to report it to me, and I think I'll take note of this: Priax isn't my most illustrious son, but he is just as full of extraordinary courage, which might have led him to do something very reckless."

【…… Sounds right. 】

[It's not all ......]

[I thought Pollax had already reported to you.] 】

While the Lord of the Emperor's Fist looked his way back two minutes later, intending to fill in the gaps for his blood relatives, Dorn was somewhat surprised to find a perfect picture: tens of thousands of Astarte warriors were scattered on a holographic projector several meters wide, with countless gold and silver symbols scattered, either firmly on the defensive ground or in the process of defeating the enemy opposite them.

The Primordial's tone was cold and hard, and he ended the brief conversation, as his Lord of the Guard, Guidores, was walking with a report of the battle he had just had, and he saluted the two Primordials without humility or arrogance, but his handsome features were expressionless like his genetic father.

"In other words, you hope that in the next battle, you will draw soldiers from each of our three legions to form a task force fleet, so as to enhance the friendship between the legions and accumulate experience in joint operations?"

"Because the motivation is insufficient."

The Lord of Avalon glanced at the holographic projector's screen one last time, and couldn't help yawning: although it wasn't like Dorne who had been working for a month, it was a very energy-consuming and physically demanding thing to do to schedule a lot of chores in the rear or lead the fleet through the strange waves of subspace.

【……】

Morgan smiled weakly, her mind still a little confused, it was the result of the long subspace voyage and combat command that had just made the Lord of Avalon in no mood to mediate the conflict between his two brothers for the time being.

"It's not a serious problem, it's just worth a verbal warning."

The two Emperor's sons sped through the Eternal Crusade's almost decorated corridor, each nodding silently to the Astarte warriors who saluted them, followed only by six guards: three Imperial Fists and three Daybreakers, keeping a polite distance from each other.

Dorne frowned, and when he saw that Morgan wanted to say it here, he made a gesture to his blood relative, signaling her to be quiet first, and finally pointed to the door not far away.

Morgan blinked.

None of them would be despicable: let alone Morgan, who was rather introverted by nature?

So, in Rogdorn's good-natured silence, the ensuing war was fought under the will of the two primitives, and although the Fist of the Empire and the Dawnbreaker had never had any experience of fighting together on a large scale, they were still three hours faster than Dorn had expected, and they had completed all their strategic objectives.

In front of the lives of the soldiers, the so-called dignity of the original body is not worth mentioning.

[Isn't this a fight for revenge?] 】

The Lord of Inwitt shoved the document directly into Morgan's hand.

"And ......"

[How effective is it?] 】

"With it and with it by your side, you can rest better: this has always been a trick I use to regulate my spirit, and it has always worked very well, Morgan, I hope it works for you too......"

“……”

[So, brother: how about let's get out of the tense environment and take a short break before discussing our next military action?] 】

She just wants to rest now.

[But he is a very good fighter.] 】

"I notice you're tired, Morgan."

From pulling anchor to withdrawing the army, the Lord of Inwitt carefully grasped every process, and the high-intensity work took a great toll on his body and mind, but despite this, when Morgan arrived with reinforcements to take over the burden on him, Dorne only gave up a place for his blood relatives.

Dorne just looked at her and asked rhetorically.

So, you never do that? 】

"Wait a minute, Morgan."

This long work was not only a test of the original body's physical strength, but also a test of his energy and heart: Morgan even had some doubts that his Inwitt blood relatives had a way to calm his heart.

He hesitated again, pursed his hesitant lips, and made up his mind.

"Remember to give it back to me."

(End of chapter)