"I don't understand." Marius Gage spoke very quickly. "Why don't you need anyone with you? Even if you don't need a permanent victorious army, at least you need a guard of honor, right? ”

"And then let them keep playing music that I've heard hundreds of thousands of times to torture my ears and their own lungs? No, forget it, thank you, Marius, but I don't really need anyone to accompany me. ”

Robert Killiman shook his head, snapped the third button on his collar, and sighed.

"I know what you're trying to say, Marius." The Lord of Maculag said in a deep voice. "But I also want to ask you to believe my brother."

"I trust your brother, but considering that you intend to tell your brother bluntly about the death of his adoptive father, I think you would better bring some people along." Marius Gage replied stiffly. "Otherwise, I'll have to report this to Ms. Judton."

Killiman looked at him with a smile and a few seconds of staring, and after a few seconds of staring, Marius Gage finally lowered his head.

Sometimes, people's actions can tell more than words." Killman's First Battle Commander said, his voice low. "You're not going to take anyone down, what are you going to do?"

"I'm sure you already know the answer, Marius." Robert Killiman replied calmly. "I'm going to take all the anger I need to take – that's what I deserve. Karil Lohals wouldn't have to die, if I hadn't invited him along. ”

Marius Gage finally had nothing to say.

Their primordial is very sensible in most cases, and he listens carefully to the advice of everyone who disagrees. Except for times like this.

At times like these, Robert Killeman can become very stubborn—his principles and a certain bottom line make him not back down to anyone at such times unless he achieves his goals.

Ten minutes later, he and his brother met inside a transport plane.

Angron was still wearing that garment, and he had no other clothes to wear in serious situations. At the moment, he is standing side by side with Robert Killiman. The Lord of Macurag, on the other hand, could see some subtle clues in his brother's face.

"You've spent a lot of time convincing them, haven't you?" Kiliman asked.

"It's just a lot of time." Angrand replied angrily. "I've never said so much in my life like I do today, every company commander I have, every adjutant, every person I know — they've tried to persuade me not to."

Robert Killiman imagined the absurd scene that he should have laughed out of, but he didn't. He just bowed his head heavily.

They're just worried about you." Killiman whispered.

"Worried I'll be killed by one of my brothers?" Angron shook his head. "I'm sure he's not like that."

"You haven't seen him, Angelon."

"Aren't you too?"

"I have exchanged letters with him. And he appears to be mature in the letter, which is not commensurate with his age. According to the time, he is already two years old. And now, we're going to tell a two-year-old boy that the man he thought was his father was dead, or even boneless."

He stopped talking and began to gaze through the porthole into the eternal night of Nostramo. He knew some of the basic conditions of the planet, and he knew how harsh its environment was, and he had heard specific descriptions from his brothers.

Not so with Angrão.

The gladiator from Nukeria unconsciously frowned and began to stare at the grotesque city.

He could see the areas of buildings that had been altered later, but he could also see the gloomy complexes of buildings and the still filthy sky. From these things alone, it is not difficult for him to imagine what Nostramo was like in the past. And, in fact, he had heard Robert Kiriman share some of his words.

The cannibalistic upper-class aristocracy and the extremely harsh living environment sound terrifying, let alone witness it with his own eyes, and between his gaze, Angeland almost treats this gloomy world as some kind of monster that feeds on human life.

"You know what, Robert?" He spoke suddenly after a brief silence.

"What?"

"I've thought about this question for a long time because there are two kinds of slaves in this world, and I've finally got the answer now."

The gladiator turned his head, looked at his brother, and spoke solemnly.

"One is a born slave. Forever eager to be mastered by another person or something, in essence, they are just simple Mu Qiang, but they are not just Mu Qiang. ”

"The second type is the slave who has been oppressed the day after tomorrow. Such slaves could be Nukerians who were violently forced to become gladiators, or they could be people who were forced to kneel in such circumstances on Nostramo. ”

Angeland shook his head solemnly: "No one should live like this. ”

"And that's how Conrad Cotz used to live, brother." Robert Killeman smiled slightly, his smile pale.

Silent.

The cabin was landing, and the metal on which they stood shook and made an unpleasant noise that could almost be seen as torture, mirroring the manic depression of the primitives. But, anyway, they all landed smoothly and touched the ground after ten minutes.

Five months of waiting are coming to an end today.

Angron exhaled a heavy breath of air and walked out of the hatch side by side with Robert Killman. Greeted by cold temperatures and foul smells, a black-robed figure stood not far from the apparently newly built tarmac waiting for them.

With the progenitor's vision, they could easily see the pale face.

The eyes that were completely dark rested quietly above the towering cheekbones, the bridge of the nose was high, and the lips were shallow, which were now pursed into a curved line. Conrad Coetzes smiled, like a perfect pale sculpture.

His face was perfect enough, and his long black hair and tall and thin figure added a more mysterious air to him in the night, as if the night itself were smiling and greeting.

"Good evening, my brothers, meet for the first time." Conrad Coetzes approached with a smile. "I hope my rash request has not confused you, but I really can't return to meet you on the Nightfall today, and Nostramo needs me."

Robert Kiriman did not immediately answer Conrad Coetze's words. His gaze crossed over to the Lord of the Eighth Legion, scanning the darkness behind him.

"Good evening, Conrad." Killiman finally spoke. "You're waiting here alone?"

"Ah, my legion. There are not many people. Conrad Coetzes spread his hands apologetically. So there's no way to put up a military formation for you to review - they need to be on duty, and I can't leave them absent. ”

"I'm sure it's not a big deal." Angron replied quickly. "After all, we didn't take anyone with us either."

"Hmm"

Conrad Coetzes frowned in annoyance: "Why is that? ”

"Nothing, Conrad." Kiliman obliterately covered up the past. "Nostramo is very different from what I've heard from them in Fogham, and I hope the supplies I've sent will help you."

"Of course!"

Conrad Coetzes laughed happily, "And the five hundred Ultramarines you sent - they all helped a lot!" ”

Out of the corner of his eye, Angron saw Robert Killiman's eye twitching slightly.

“.”

"Robert? Why don't you speak? ”

"No, no, it's okay, I'm just-"

"-just?"

Conrad Coetzes raised an eyebrow and continued to ask in a soft tone.

"If there's anything you want to say, just say it. You, too, Angrand, although it is true that we are meeting for the first time, I think you should feel the same way as I do, right? ”

He turned his head to look at Angelang. The Nukerians accepted the soft gaze in silence, feeling a tingling in their cheeks, as if they were being slashed by a thousand knives.

After a moment, he nodded, acknowledging Conrad Coetze's claim. It only took him a glance to know that this man must be his brother, and there was no doubt that the call of instinct could not be mistaken.

But because of this, Angron began to feel more and more guilty. He suppressed his talent and didn't let it work, he didn't want to let himself perceive Conrad Coetzes' thoughts. Because Robert Killiman is about to tell the truth.

The Lord of Maculag took a deep breath.

"Angelon and I, I have brought you bad news, and I'm sure you've found out too, that the instructor of your legion, Karil Lohals, did not land with us, he was invited by me to participate in the exploration of the starfields around Maculag and died in a disaster. We were unable to find his body. ”

Robert Killiman bowed deeply his head, still wearing the laurel crown, and Angron took over after a brief silence.

He died to save my legion." The Nukerian said hoarsely. "I don't know how to express my apologies to you, and my respect for him, Conrad Coetzes. But I want you to-"

Angron frowned violently, for he noticed that his pale brother was still smiling, and not only that, but it even seemed to be expanding.

"—forgive you?" Conrad Coetzes asked softly. "No, no, I don't think it's necessary."

Killiman looked up in disbelief, just in time to see Conrad Coetze's flipped wrist, a flash of silver light, and a short knife that pierced the eyes was held in the hand of the Lord of the Eighth Legion at great speed, and his expression finally calmed down at this moment.

The air began to get colder.

In the silence of his brothers—even a vague relief of relief—Conrad Coetzes spoke slowly.

"Because he didn't die, I don't have to forgive you." He said calmly. "But you should be thankful for the knife."

When he had finished speaking, he turned around without looking back and disappeared into the darkness. Killiman and Angron stood stunned when they heard a sigh behind them, followed by a familiar voice.

"I tried to persuade him, but he insisted on it." A voice belonging to Karil Lohals rang out in the darkness. "I'm sorry that your long journey has only resulted in such a result. But I'm actually glad that if this funeral had been held, I'm afraid I would have been quite embarrassed. ”

Robert Killeman turned as if he were in the face of an enemy.

The update is complete.,Counting tomorrow's 6K words.,This month's update is 270,000.,It's numb.,I wanted to put it bad.,Hey ()

(End of chapter)