Being trusted will, to some extent, lead some people to jump into a paranoid cage on their own, and in the same way, the gaze and expectations of others will also become a poison that erodes reason at some point.

Robert Killeman knows both of these things well.

In fact, he could even describe them in a thousand different ways if he wanted to. He can analyze them in philosophical ways of thinking that he learned at the University of Jericho, or he can write a sonnet that vaguely and ambiguously points out their good and bad.

However, after putting aside these useless remarks, he actually had only one thought left in his mind.

He can't live up to them.

So anxiety and uneasiness ensued.

So Robert Killiman started trying to work again.

This is already the thirty-ninth time today. He sat behind his marble desk, straightened his back, and reached for a datapad.

Makulag's livelihood reports emerge from the green numbers, and he reads them, grasps them, and then begins to give orders. Three minutes later, he heard footsteps outside the hallway. This means that the officials in the administration building have received his order and are about to carry it out at this moment.

He relocated his office, the former study of King Connaught, to the top of the building, which was the administrative hub of Makulag and where all the political officials worked. Although the location has changed, the décor of the office has not.

Everything inside is the way Connor Killriman once liked, not even the scratches on the wooden floor have been removed. Nothing had changed, except for some furniture that had been replaced to fit his size.

Working with data – this has become almost instinctive to him today. He doesn't need to think to do it well.

He quickly finished dealing with the affairs of the day, and then fell into an indescribable emotion. Irrepressibly, he began to think back, began to recall the cold feeling, as if lying in the middle of the ocean and being washed by the tides.......

In a trance, that huge sense of oppression came again.

Robert Killiman closed his eyes and pressed his temples with both hands, trying to ignore it, but he couldn't do it.

His reason screams, and the parts of his memory about the truth of the empire clash horribly with the reality he has seen with his own eyes.

After a long silence, he sighed and looked up, intending to look at the portraits of his adoptive father and his biological father. Looking up, he saw not the two portraits of the figures hanging high on the wall, but a pale, gloomy face.

「...... I didn't hear any sirens." After taking a deep breath, Robert Killiman said.

"Of course." The visitor he didn't expect replied softly. "I used a trick I shouldn't have used, and I'm sorry if it scared you."

Robert Kiliman frowned, then actually laughed.

"Actually, Instructor Carlil, you didn't scare me...... This sudden appearance is nothing compared to what you showed me five days ago."

Instead of answering him immediately, Karil stared at the slightly haggard Lord of Macurag, and after a brief gaze, he smiled slightly.

"That's the truth you demanded for yourself." He said. "So, I don't want to take on the charge of trapping you in your room for more than five days."

"Don't use honorific titles at this time......" Killiman shook his head wearily. I guess my housekeeper has already gone to look for you?"

"Yes."

"Please forgive her, Lady Judon for being so stubborn, and still forcing me to eat vegetables three times a week...... I'm not a picky eater, Carlile, but I also don't want to see more than three kinds of vegetables on my table at dinner time."

He smiled and shook his head, but out of the corner of his eye, he observed Carlil's reaction.

It's funny, and Carlil doesn't ignore it, and the slightly funny little story that Robert Killiman deliberately reveals—both in and out of telling Carlil Luhals that Youton is a lady of transcendent status.

Can't talk well anymore......

Carlil laughed too, but what he said next had nothing to do with Robert Killiman's last sentence: "You should be guessing why I came to you quietly."

Slowly narrowing his eyes, Kiliman said quietly, "I won't deny it."

"I won't admit it."

"Of course, politicians are like that, and I'm the biggest politician in Maculag."

"And the best politician at heart."

"Being a politician doesn't matter if you have a good heart, Carlil......

"Do you enjoy talking like this?" His visitor asked softly.

"Nope."

"Really? But I think you seem to have some fun."

"Because you're the only one I've been talking to for five days, I don't enjoy playing pantomimes, but I love and enjoy every second of talking to someone I respect." Kiriman said frankly. "I've thought a lot these days about whether someone will push the door in...... However, let alone pushing the door open, they refused to even knock on the door, and even the data board and government affairs were sent in through the fast lane."

He raised his hand and pointed to a long iron-gray metal block on the wall next to him, which was not consistent with the overall style and structure of the study, and even seemed a little abrupt.

"A small sacrifice in efficiency." Kiriman said, noticing Carlil's gaze and explaining one step ahead. "Sometimes I have to spend a day and a night in this office."

"Is it so hard work?"

"If you're simply the captain of the Ultramarines, it's not that much trouble. At most, it will take half a day to take care of all the affairs of the day, but I am still the ruler elected by the Macurag, and people trust me...... So I have to do my best."

"Better ......," Carlil nodded thoughtfully. Normally, people do the best they can, but you don't seem to be the same, Robert Killiman."

Kiliman raised an eyebrow.

"You're finally not going to call me by an honorific title anymore." He said half-jokingly. "I didn't believe it when Rogge told me this."

Carlil smiled slightly, his face gentle, "Maybe you should believe it, just as you should believe in the truth of the Empire."

After these words, the atmosphere went straight down.

「...... How can I believe again?" Kiliman replied somberly.

"Imperial truth denies superstition, religion, and all supernatural forces, even those which are not yet incomprehensible to man, but only part of objective existence. Sooner or later, they will be fully interpreted, fully analyzed and understood. Before that night, I really believed that, Carlile. But not anymore."

"Why not?"

With a wry smile, Killiman shook his head, and the laurel wreath shone on his forehead: "Because one cannot believe a lie."

"But you can keep it." Carlil whispered.

"Do you deceive everyone with lies?"

"White lies."

"It's also a lie, and there is no difference in nature...... I can't believe I could say that."

Killiman chuckled and leaned back in his chair, his face full of self-mockery and extreme self-deprecation.

"I'm a teenager and an old politician, maybe even the best politician in the galaxy...... And I'm now denying a lie that can keep countless people rational?"

"You're not denying it." Carlil said. "You're just trying to convince yourself, about that...... It's kind of a common problem for people like you

。」

"A man like me?"

"yes."

"Who am I?" Killyman asked rhetorically. "If you're going to prevaricate me with a long list of titles, please don't speak. Leave them alone, and I'm just Robert Killiman, that's all."

"And I'm talking about Robert Killiman right now." Carlil said calmly. "A man torn between what is right and what is right."

「...... Correct?"

Killiman looked at him in confusion, as if he didn't understand the meaning of the words that had just come out of the mouth of Carlil Lohals.

"Correct?" He repeated, in the most standard High Gothic. "What's right?"

"Correctness is the hardest path." Carlil replied softly.

He stood in the shadows of the room, and by this moment, it was completely dark.

The curtains in the study were originally closed, but at this moment they were even more isolated from the few lights, and his pale face loomed in the darkness, matched with those dark eyes, as if some kind of evil incarnation only existed in ancient legends.

Kiriman smiled abruptly, laughing at his own misplaced analogy.

Evil incarnate. He smiled and shook his head. An evil incarnation who is patiently enlightening me.

After a moment of silence, Killiman spoke again.

"Father trusts you very much." He said. "Both Rogge and Fogen mentioned it, and Ferus didn't say it explicitly, but I could tell he wanted to tell me that, too. As for Luo Jia...... Well, Carlil, did you ever have a conflict with each other?"

"Why do you ask?"

"It's just a gut feeling."

"There was a conflict." Carlil said. "But it's nothing, it's just a trivial matter, and it's been settled."

"I won't ask for details......" Kiliman sighed and gestured.

"Anyway, my father trusts you—not just my brothers' descriptions, I can perceive this in many ways. So I wondered, did you show me those things at His will?"

"Is this important to you?"

"It doesn't matter." Kiliman said. "But it will solve a lot of my problems."

Carlil looked at him for a moment—staring, to be exact.

Kiriman pursed his lips helplessly, he didn't like the feeling of being stared at by Carlil Lohals.

If he did, to look at him would make Killiman feel like a gardener, and Carlil Rojas as an experienced gardener.

The gardener would wield a shovel and scoop up every piece of soil in the garden to see what was underneath — he might not even dig up a few rotting bones a few feet down.

"So, you're not going to get to the bottom of it." After a long excavation, Carlil said, his voice as soft as ever.

"Perhaps."

"Those things...... They're poisonous, Robert Kiliman." The visitor in the dark said slowly. "They pollute everyone who sees them, and there is no trace of it, and there is little way to avoid it."

"The only reason why humans are protected from their direct gaze is because someone stole the fire...... That's all."

"This man carries a torch and intimidates them again and again in the darkness, fighting them. Sometimes, they run away easily, sometimes they don't, and he's going through a tough battle. Think about that scene, Robert. Isn't it funny to be a man who wields a torch and fights monsters in the dark?"

yes, it's funny.

Kiriman sat up slowly, his expression serious.

"Where did you learn about this?" He asked in the softest voice of his life.

His visitor did not answer, his visitor simply stretched out his right hand, just as it had been that night.

"How?" The visitor asked. "Do you want to find out?"

Robert Killiman slowly stood up, his eyes locked on the hand. Pale, with slender fingers, a tiger's mouth, five fingers and palms full of calluses. Speculations about weapons and combat quickly crept into Kiliman's mind, only to let them slip away.

Now is not the time to analyze, and he doesn't need to analyze it.

"What does that mean?" Kiliman asked calmly.

"Shake hands." Carlil smiled. "Ancient rituals, from Terra. I think you should know."

"Of course I do—but what I'm trying to ask is, what are the consequences of this?"

"What do you think?"

Kiriman frowned and shook his head in annoyance, "The time for playing dumb riddles has passed, Karil, I don't want to play these tricks with you now, I just want to know what the consequences will be."

"Hold it." Carlil said calmly, his tone so calm that there was no hint of urging. "Then you'll know."

The corners of Robert Killman's eyes began to twitch, and half a minute later, he thought of Youton's face. After another half minute, he looked up and glanced at the portraits of his fathers.

Connor Killiman stared calmly, the Human Lord Emperor with his eyes closed and his face pitiful.

Then he held out his hand.

And then - there was a flash of golden light.

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

Maculag's night was very different from Nostramo, but Carlil wasn't surprised. If you look at the whole universe, places like Nostramo are rare.

He crouched above the Eighth Legion's assigned station, gently pressing his palms against the roof, feeling the fading heat. It's just getting dark, but it will take some time for the temperature cast by the sun to fade.

That's great.

He lowered his head, closed his eyes, and instead of using psionic energy, he used another kind of warm power.

+ He is indeed very good. +

+ His excellence has nothing to do with me. +

+ Is it? Robert Killiman would not have been glad if he had known about this. +

+ Will you tell him? +

+ Perhaps, if you don't thank me. +

+...... I thanked you back that night, Carlile. +

+ I didn't mean that. +

The pale giant opened his eyes and smiled a little wickedly. He lay back, slowly closing his eyes.

He needed a break.