Robert Killiman smelled a burnt smell that was so terrible that he had his sense of smell destroyed almost two seconds before it appeared.

The smell came and went so fast that his pain faded away in an instant, so fast that he almost wondered if he had actually smelled it.

It wasn't until he saw the green smoke emanating from the Astarte's body and his armor that seemed to be molten that he realized that the smell might not be a hallucination.

He heard footsteps, turned his head, and saw the First War Commander escorting his housekeeper over.

Marius Gage held her up, with great care. Robert Killiman pursed his lips at this, he actually didn't want them to come, at least not to let Yudon come over. The scene in front of her was not suitable for her to see.

- Actually, he had expected Yudon to be a little shocked by the shattered shoulder armor and the horrific scene, but she didn't.

She clutched her staff tightly, her expression serious and serious, composed among giants far taller and stronger.

"What's going on, Robert?"

「...... I can't answer your question for the time being, ma'am."

Robert Killiman muttered and bent down to support Yotun in place of his First War Leader, who shook his hand away and shook his head with his cane, his face grim under his short white hair.

"It doesn't matter if you don't answer me, but you have to figure out what the hell this whole thing is all about...... I'm going to exercise the authority you gave me to receive them, Robert."

She raised her right hand and pointed to the four hundred and ninety-nine Astartes who were at the end of the red carpet receiving garlands and cheering with the crowd.

Their eerie iron armor even warmed up a little under the enthusiasm of the people, but Robert Killiman could roughly guess their mood at the moment by the way they walked, and the lines of his cheeks became more and more tense.

"I understand, ma'am." He whispered.

Yudon nodded to him, her gaze becoming much softer, she leaned on her cane, and said nothing, but her expression had already told Robert Killiman everything she wanted to say.

The Lord of Maculag gave his adoptive mother a smile, and then hardened his heart and let the First War Leader escort her away.

He turned around and saw a pair of open eyes.

"Instructor Carlil?" Kiriman asked solemnly. "What's going on?"

"I'm going to ask you for a quiet room so I can explain." Carlil said slowly. "And at least half an hour of conversation time – alone. It's just the two of us."

Robert Killiman didn't refuse, and began to rejoice that he had let Marius Gage and Lady Jurdon out.

If they had heard this, they would have never been able to accept it. In fact, not to mention accepting it, Killiman even doubted that his housekeeper would be ......

No, now is not the time to think about that.

He cut off his thoughts and calmed himself down: "A quiet room is not a problem, half an hour of conversation time is not a problem, I can fight for solitude." But what about this one?"

"He's Van Cleef, a company commander of the Eighth Legion." Carlil said slowly. "He's alive and needs medical assistance. That's all, I can't reveal more now."

Silent.

For five minutes, Robert Killiman didn't say a word. For the people of Macullag, this silence of him was almost deafening as thunder. But Karil Lohals only stared at him calmly, always maintaining the same silence.

Staring into those eyes, Killiman finally nodded slowly.

"I believe in you." He said. "I'm sure the person who dominates the mind behind these eyes won't lie to me—but what medical assistance does this Van Cleve Company Commander need?"

"Wait a minute."

Carlil came up to Van Cleef and raised his right hand, soft but firm

Resolutely took off Van Cleef's helmet. With an unpleasant tearing sound of flesh and blood, the helmet, which seemed to have been molten away, was slowly removed.

The face underneath was mutilated, and the surface of the skin was terrifying as if it had been ignited with a promethium flamethrower, and the tendon texture melted and dripped to the ground, sliding down the bone-revealing face.

And he was keeping his eyes open—or rather, he couldn't close them anymore. He was lucky enough to keep his eyeballs, preserved his sight, and left misfortune to those who observed him.

Killiman noticed that he was even breathing.

The corners of the Lord of Maculag's eyes twitched violently.

Immediately afterward, he sensed a chill - he couldn't tell where it was coming from, but he saw Karil, who was now facing away from him, firmly pressed his right hand against the molten flesh face.

"This is a rereliction of my duty, Van Cleef."

He said in a low voice, like a proclamation. "But you don't have to die, at least not here, the thing flinched at the critical moment, and it didn't want to be traced back to it by the traces I left through your heart...... It has fled, but you will endure long suffering."

Van Cleeff's mouth open, blackened teeth popping out of the flesh - a terrible guess arose in Kiliman's mind, and he realized that the company commander's self-healing abilities were still working.

But his flesh and blood ...... Instinctively refuses to be born again.

Why?

Realizing this made Robert Killiman's eyes widen and he almost felt dizzy.

Van Cleef opened his mouth and hissed a few times, as if to speak. His voice was obviously not as lucky as his eyes, and he had lost the ability to speak, but Carlil listened attentively, even nodding his head repeatedly.

After a moment, he nodded.

"I see."

Killiman could not see the expression of Karil Lohals, but he could hear the pent-up anger in his tone, which he himself used to speak to others a lot, and he was a middle-aged veteran.

"But it's not your responsibility, Van Cleve, you don't know what that thing is...... But I promise you, that thing will get its retribution."

Kiriman saw that the commander of a company of the Eighth Regiment nodded slowly. So he turned his head and made a complex and continuous gesture to the Ultramarines behind him.

He didn't need words to say the words 'medical aid,' and in the Ultramarines' internal playbook, he codified gestures for every eventuality that could be used in an emergency.

Carlil Lohals turned around and looked at him, his expression depressed and calm, and in a trance it made Killiman feel as if he was looking in a mirror.

This expression...... He couldn't be more familiar.

"A room." Carlil whispered. "And thirty minutes of alone time, and I'll answer every question you have."

"These things are not a problem." Killiman said, hearing footsteps behind him, and he knew it was his—

......

He stopped thinking and sighed deeply as he raised his right hand and made a stop gesture. His medics stopped behind him, the hum of the power armor still distinct, but the footsteps were no longer sound.

Then he saw the commander of a company of the Eighth Regiment take the melted, flesh-and-blood helmet that belonged to him from their instructor, and slowly brought it up.

His fingers were shaking, but he didn't stop for even half a second.

「...... Van Cleeff is a company commander." Robert Kiriman spoke solemnly. "We'll heal you."

He turned sideways and let the medic pass by. I saw the grateful eyes of Carlil Lohals, but for the first time I didn't know how to respond.

-----------------

It's a study, obviously. The marble table is extremely heavy,

Obviously not the size given to mortals. It was piled high with paper—everything from parchment rolls to plain white paper, and even a few copies of the local newspaper in Maculag.

At the other end of the paper are stacked data boards. At this moment, sunlight just shone in through the narrow floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a comfortable temperature on the brown-red wooden floor.

The Lord of Macurag let out a cloudy breath and took off his uniform. God knows how much effort he had just put into convincing his steward to give him this precious half hour.

He turned around and hung his clothes on the coat rack at the door, looking for a suitable opening line, but his guests were the first to start.

"Like I said." Carlil calmly lowered his posture. "I will answer every question you have, Lord Robert Killman."

「......」

Killiman was silent for a moment, his right little finger rubbing the braided thread of his trousers for a few seconds. He then chose a cheerful tone from hundreds of alternatives.

"My brothers say you don't like honorifics." He said. "Rogge admonished me in a few hundred words about your little insistence on this, it seems that he was wrong?"

"No...... There's nothing wrong with Roger Donn, it's just that I'm not talking to you in a private capacity right now."

Carlil Lohals, the instructor of the Eighth Legion, shook his head slowly. "Therefore, etiquette is a must."

Killiman nodded quietly, already realizing that his opponent was clearly more difficult to deal with than he thought - yes, he didn't take Carlil's words seriously.

Just listen to every question, and the real people are either children with a pure heart or politicians who are terrible.

Before he knew it, he seemed to have seen Carlil Lohals as a political opponent.

"So, can I start asking questions?"

"Absolutely." Kalil bowed slowly. "Only, before I do that, I want you to give me a map of the city of Maculag."

Killiman frowned.