Inside the room, Carlil is signing a document.

He did it with ease—even though it was accompanied by a hundred and seventy pages of material that he had to check himself.

His expression was relaxed, natural, and even relieved from nowhere.

He spent fifteen minutes on the document, not a single penny, not a less, and eventually, at the end of the document, he wrote his name with a quill dipped in ink.

Carlil Lohals.

Two lines, one in High Gothic and one in Nostramo.

Then he raised his hand and handed the document to the waiting servant, who reached out and took it, giving a short, rapid confirmation from his throat.

Without receiving any other orders, it just walked away with the papers.

The legs replaced by metal made a crisp crashing sound on the ground, its body was not heavy, it was not a fighter servant, so there were no inlaid steel plates or other bulletproof objects in its body, its internal organs were completely hollowed out, and its brain was only one-third the size of an ordinary person.

An embryo in a laboratory is born to be driven to do these simple jobs.

Carlil pursed his lips and didn't speak.

He knew where it was going, and in just two days he knew the Nightfall as well as he knew every gloomy alley of Quintus. However, he did not know where the documents would go.

The logistics fleet will not arrive in 58 days – strictly speaking, 57 days. It's already 1:45 a.m. in Terra.

If you want to know about this time, you have to ask the clock that hangs in every corridor on the Nightfall, and you don't know who set the tradition.

It's a little quirky, but it's a lot of fun.

Again and again, these traditional Terra 24-hour clocks remind everyone who sees them of the passage of time.

For Carlil, it had another meaning.

Terra.

Hour.

He chuckled and cut off all those thoughts - after signing the document, he officially became an instructor in the Eighth Legion, teaching combat and hand-to-hand combat.

Konrad Coetzes gave him another surprise, as the Lord of the Eighth Legion described in detail the duties of his Legion instructor in a seven-hundred-word narrative

In short, he not only had to teach the recruits of the Eighth Legion all the skills they wanted to learn on a daily basis, but he also had to conduct 'real combat drills'.

What is a Combat Exercise?

It is for him to act with the Eighth Legion in the future, to test the results of his training on the battlefield, and to witness with his own eyes in the war whether these blades in the dark forged by him are sharp.

You're a fast learner, Conrad. Carlil thought.

However, it is still too early to think about this.

With a soft sigh, Carlil straightened his expression and settled into his new identity in an instant.

He walked out of the room and began to walk towards a place. Then, at two o'clock in the morning in Terra, on the tracks of Nostramo, he walked into the gladiatorial cage of the training room on the upper deck of the Nightfall, which was moored there.

The Astartes of the Eighth Legion were silent by his arrival.

Carlil only slowly took off his upper body clothes and slowly moved his shoulders and wrists.

"Who's the first to come?" He chuckled and asked below the ring.

——

"Seven hundred and thirteen in all." The commander of the first company, Van Cleve, said solemnly. "Beware, the name of every sinner has been recorded."

"You learned Nostramo so quickly?"

"Not at the moment."

The commander of a company wearing blood-stained armor said.

"Just knowing the most basic vocalizations and how to use some common words, it is conservatively estimated that it will take us four days to master the language to the point where we can communicate with the Nostramo people in a simple way."

"And how did you put their names on them?"

"We let them write it themselves." Van Cleef said. "There are always more solutions than problems, the original."

Conrad Coetzes scratched his head, then jotted it down in his notebook - yes, he was going to look to Fogham.

And the company commander who was standing at the table, witnessing all his movements, his eyes widened suddenly.

"Primordial?!"

"Huh?"

"Y-you? Why is that? ”

"Because that sentence helped me." Conrad Coetzes said lightly. "So I'm going to make a note of it, and I'm going to add your name to the end. Do you have any comments, Van Cleef? ”

"I don't think that's right."

"What's wrong?"

"That's your notebook."

"yes, it's my notebook, so it's my freedom to write whatever I write on it, isn't it?"

"But my words shouldn't be taken so seriously by you."

The Lord of the Eighth Legion sighed.

"Van Cliff. Tell me, is there a rule that says that the original should not write down the words of his company commander in his notes? Especially if this sentence makes him feel that he has benefited a lot? ”

"No, the original."

"Then why do you think it's wrong?"

“.”

The company commander looked up in embarrassment and whispered, "They're going to look for me in the dueling cage." ”

"Huh?"

Now it was Conrad Coetze's turn to be at a loss.

"Duel cage, primordial." Van Cleef said with difficulty. "This matter will definitely get out, and many people will come to me for this matter."

The expression of the Lord of the Eighth Legion began to change little by little, and after half a minute, he asked in a deep voice, "If you don't say it, and I don't say it, how will they know?" ”

Van Cleef looked away, not answering his primordial words. Conrad Coetzes raised an eyebrow, and suddenly felt a strong smile.

"I see." He spoke slowly. "You're going to show off, aren't you?"

"It's not to show off." The fierce-faced company commander replied with difficulty, his voice as terrifying as if a blade was stuck in his throat.

"Hmph." Conrad Coetzes snorted and let him go for the time being.

He lowered his head, signed the materials submitted by the company commander, and put them on the other side.

His seal will arrive with the logistics fleet, and when the time comes, all the documents he has signed in the past two months will even need to be read again by himself, and then printed on the signature one by one with the seal, so that they can really have legal effect.

He was ready for this. Still, though he didn't find it difficult, he could still sense a subtle tiredness.

Thinking of this, he couldn't help but shake his head.

There are still some slip-through from the nobles on Nostramo, and the Eighth Legion is tracking down their whereabouts. The ultimate goal is to leave one behind.

Judging by the current efficiency, Coates knew that it would take at most a week for the Eighth Legion to completely eradicate the gangs and nobles.

But, after that, that's where it gets the hell out. It's also the point he really needs to pay attention to, though, before that.

He narrowed his eyes, moved a list of legions in front of him to the center of the table, and spoke gently.

"Well, go back and get some rest, Van Cleeff—and if you want to show off, wait until tomorrow. What do you think of this? ”

"Me"

"Alright." Chuckling and bowing his head, Coetz waved at him, saying goodbye in a Nostramo phrase.

The company commander was slightly stunned, and then replied in a hissing voice, although it was still very jerky, but it was also obvious that it was Nostramo.

The door slid open, then closed again.

Now, sitting in his office alone, Conrad Coetzes smiled, a subtle sense of pleasure rising in his heart.

"I have to speak Nostramo." He muttered. "Why can't you say? Can you speak Gothic, but you can't speak Nostramo? ”

He lowered his head and began to read the list.

——

"There are really a lot of them, almost a third." Conrad Coetzes sighed and said. "What do I do, Carlile? Or rather, a regimental instructor? ”

"I'm only responsible for teaching martial arts, and you shouldn't ask me that kind of question." Carlil said.

With his head down, he cursoluted the document in front of him that had been brought by the servant, a petition signed by all companies and squads to enlarge the training room.

The news of his appointment as an instructor in the legion has spread far and wide, and this kind of matter that is obviously related to his duties naturally needs to be seen by him.

It's really troublesome. Carlil thought. Why is it up to me to decide how big to expand?

"Not necessarily." Kotz said solemnly. "You'll receive a new material tomorrow, and I've updated the instructor's definition."

"Conrad, what do you want to do?"

"It's nothing, instructor, I've just expanded the scope of your work a bit." The Lord of the Eighth Legion raised his head and looked at the ceiling. "Anyway, those who can work harder."

"I'm not going to bother with you about it for the time being."

Carlil sighed, feeling mixed about the performance that Konrad Coetzes had shown. On the one hand, he appreciates this attitude. As a judge and a defender of the rules, it is not good to be good at using the rules. But.

Conrad, you're learning too fast.

"So, let's talk about them." Carlil said. "It's an interesting list, a third?"

"One-third."

Conrad Coetzes nodded, pursed his lips.

"I got a rough idea of what some people were just behaving aggressively in the fight, but there were others who were focused on what I didn't know how to describe their behavior, Carlil. They seem to be going down a certain path. ”

"Gone crooked?"

"They're obsessed with using fear tactics." Conrad Coetzes whispered. "While the Eighth Army did write this tactic into the playbook, they went too far."

"Really?"

"Yes. I looked through a lot of past war reports in the afternoon, and found that most of the people on the list had to brutally execute the people around them, even when dealing with targets that could be easily killed."

Carlil nodded thoughtfully. "Use fear to break down the enemy's fighting spirit and reason step by step, so as to bring them to a breakdown. Aren't we all very good at using this tactic? ”

"But they"

"But they're putting the cart before the horse." Carlil chuckled. "You want to say that, don't you?"

Conrad Coetzes nodded apprehensively.

In fact, the situation is much more than he says.

The people on the list aren't just obsessed – they actually show a kind of disregard for civilians.

They have only those sinners in their eyes who need to be judged. If the need to use weapons of mass destruction in the city could terrify sinners, Coetzes is confident that they would not hesitate to use them.

They don't care much about the lives or deaths of civilians. If the momentum continues, Coetzes can almost foresee what will become of them in the future.

When people step into the abyss, they are often unaware of their situation. Someone has to pull them up for them to understand how dangerous they are at the moment.

And, the most crucial point is that . Most of these people are veterans.

"So, what do you want to do with this?" Carlil asked softly.

He had just waited a while before he continued to speak. As before, he could tell that Conrad Coetzes was thinking about it. Although Carlil already had a guess and an answer, he didn't intend to say it.

Let him understand these things for himself—about the fact that war will destroy humanity

I'm going to talk to them."

"And then?"

"Based on the outcome of the conversation, I will decide what to do with them."

Conrad Coetze said calmly and firmly. "I hope they understand why the Eighth Legion was formed and what it is fighting for. Fear tactics are always just means, and we should not be obsessed with them. ”

Fascinated.

That's an interesting adjective, Conrad.

Carlil narrowed his eyes quietly, still not revealing his thoughts. However, Conrad Coetze's words actually refer to a certain essence.

"Still." The Lord of the Eighth Legion shook his head. "I still think I should let you deal with them first."

"Me?" Carlil raised an eyebrow. "I'm just an instructor."

"I'll divide some of the people on my list into ground combat tomorrow, and you can follow, Carlil. Actual combat drills! Then, you can teach them. ”

Conrad Coetzes smiled slightly: "Just like you taught me." ”

"I didn't teach you to add so much work to a person, Conrad Coetze."

"Those who can work harder." Coetzes blinked, tilted his head.

Carlil sighed helplessly, but he didn't refuse.

After a moment, he moved his neck calmly and nodded.

"However, this is at best a practical training class." He whispered.

There's 10,000 more.,This chapter is to make up for last night's arrears of 3K.,I'm sorry for more than 1k.。

The old lady started the class.jpg

(End of chapter)