"A little to the left." Konrad Coetzes said.

The servant moved his hands stiffly, his pale arms dancing stiffly in the air, and moved silently a few centimeters away from the wall with a painting.

"Well, let's go to the right." The Lord of the Night said in deep thought.

The servant immediately responded to his command, its simple mind unable to defy any words that came directly from Conrad Coetzes. The neurons were stimulated, and its arms danced and creaked again, reminiscent of a machine in disrepair.

The painting moves again, and Coetzes is still not satisfied.

He frowned, and began to feel that the painting looked awkward wherever it hung. The servant turned his head and stared at him with a pair of crimson electronic eyes, waiting for the next command, and the Lord of the Night sighed and shook his head.

"Thank you for your help." He said mildly. "But I'd better do it myself. You can leave, G-2-173. ”

The servant bent down, put the painting down, and left his office in silence. Coetze stared down at the painting, his expression a rare look of bewilderment.

The figure is dressed in court-style boots, breeches, tight-fitting aristocratic tunics, and even a silver stabbing sword with golden gauntlets.

The black hair was tied up, forming a swordsman's single ponytail at the back of his head, and there was a haughty look on his pale face that would never appear on the face of the main master. He stood in the shadows, a faint moon rising behind him.

Yes, the person on this painting is Conrad Coetzes.

Terra sent the painting, supposedly by a group of painters who held an art festival and painted thousands of original paintings. Each one will be judged by their own individual, and the best works will be given to each of the originals.

But herein lies the problem, they had never met Conrad Coetzes at all, and had just fabricated such an image based on some gossip.

The Lord of the Night couldn't understand why the artists painted him as a nobleman, and if it was reasonable for Fugen to wear this dress, what was the matter with him? He doesn't have this style of regular clothes in his wardrobe at all.

"They might as well stop drawing clothes, and let me stand there with a white cloth like St. Giles." Coetzes muttered to himself. "It's an unbearable painting."

Having said that, he could not put the painters' good intentions aside, but he also cut off the idea of hanging it for the time being. With a sigh, the Lord of the Night turned his head away, ignoring it no more.

Behind him was a couch, made of genuine leather — to be more accurate, a 'Caliban fur sofa' from Leon Eltheenson.

Conrad Coetzes certainly didn't understand why the primordial of the First Legion would send him such a gift, but how could he refuse?

Leon Al Johnson was able to put on an iron-blue face through the holographic projection of the ship, as if someone had cut off his hand with a sword.

If he refuses on the spot, God knows if the lion will run up to the Nightfall in a shuttle and ask him why he didn't accept the gift.

Of course, this sofa is not the point, the focus is on the person who is sitting on it at the moment.

He was pale, but not as pale as Conrad Coetzes, like a long-lost deceased. This pallor is a paleness acceptable to a normal person, with a texture close to that of an alabaster statue.

He also has black hair and black eyes, but his eyes are not completely dark, and there are still whites of his eyes. There is no doubt that he is very similar to the king of Nostramo, but there are also many differences. The most obvious is the quiet and slightly depressed temperament on his body.

"What do you think of this painting, brother?" Koz asked, trying to calm his tone.

"It's not like you." Coreus Corax replied quietly. "They also sent me a painting"

The Lord of the Night raised an eyebrow in surprise, "Would you mind describing one or two for me?" ”

"Much like you." Colax said. "They even painted my eyes completely black, and made me step on a lot of bones under my feet."

Conrad Coetzes laughed dumbly - what else could he say? This description is very similar to him. He glanced at Colax, who sat upright on the couch and gestured until he almost remembered someone once upon a time, Coetze's eyes narrowed and he shifted the subject: "How do you feel about the Great Expedition, brother?" ”

"Not so good." Colax said. "My legion also doesn't make me feel good, and Vogrim suggested that I come to you for advice, so I came."

"Do you trust his advice so much?"

"He's a good guy, sane enough, sober enough I think his advice would be very helpful." The Genogen of the Nineteenth Legion said this, speaking softly and slowly. "And, father. . . That's what it suggests. ”

Coates couldn't help but frown.

"What did he say?" He asked in a calm tone.

"He thinks that your and Instructor Karil's years of experience in Nostramo will be very helpful in building my Salvation Star, but I'm more puzzled why he didn't just give me a little advice."

The Lord of the Night chuckled, not very gentle, "Father is like that, Koraks, I advise you to get used to it as soon as possible. However, I have two experiences. ”

His smile grew, and of course, it wasn't gentle. In fact, it can almost be called malicious. Corus Colacs sat indifferent, not moving.

He was keenly aware that Conrad Coetze's ill will at the moment was not directed at him.

"Both." Coetzes held out two fingers. "The first is the killer's experience, which is about how to create panic, brutally murder, torture, torture, and dig pain in people."

"The second is to build cities, adjust policies, tax exemptions, and investigate people's livelihoods, but, to be honest, you can go to the Ultramarines for these things. They have a lot more experience than I do. ”

"I've thought about it." Corax blinked quietly. "But I'm not familiar with Robert Killiman."

Are you familiar with me? Conrad Coetzes wanted to ask, but he held back.

"Well, you need a little experience and help and I don't think that's a problem."

The Lord of the Night turned and returned to the back of his desk.

He pulled out his chair and sat down, and began to write a data book on the spot, some of which were his own perceptions, others from the five hundred ultramarines led by Lucretius Corvo.

Although they have long since returned to Macurag, what they left behind has had a profound impact on Nostramo. They did not even forget to leave the reports of the years in a book, and it took Konrad Coetz a long time to read them all.

"So—" The Lord of the Night asked casually, his head bowed, as he wrote. "—do you need anything else, brother?"

"Yes." Colax said. "I want to ask."

"Huh?" Coates looked up and saw that his brother had a rare hesitation on that face. Out of some emotion that he couldn't explain, Koz put down the electronic pen he had used for the tablet.

"Say, it's fine." The Lord of the Night whispered. "Humans are supposed to help each other, not to mention that you and I are brothers."

"Okay." Corax looked like he was convinced, or maybe he had finally made up his mind.

He looked up at Coetze, "I want to ask, how did you get along with your legion?" ”

Conrad Coetzes froze, and some images flashed through his mind. They were never forgotten and stayed in the depths of his memory. At this moment, they twinkled, like a clear night sky unobscured by anything, and all the stars were clearly visible.

"I can't agree with my legion on something."

Corax frowned, struggling to find a word. Koz frowned as well, as he had a hunch that Corax's next words would most likely not sound good.

"I'm talking about the Terra veterans, many of whom have a very cruel habit. They were keen to torment the enemy, and often had no reason to deal with prisoners of war and even civilians. And, they-"

Corax took a deep breath before continuing.

"—I don't know whether to say it or not, but many of them behaved like slave owners in their daily lives, treating all servants and commoners as slaves, and their lives as their own private property."

"Sounds like a serious problem within your legion." The Lord of the Night commented thoughtfully. "Is there a conflict of values between Astarte and his own genetic protoplasm, and have they ever expressed their displeasure to you?"

"My company commander, Alcahas Fall, said it." Corax sighed. "He thinks I'm being too simple in my daily life. He persuaded me, hoping I could—"

"What?"

"—he wants me to be more extravagant." The original body of the Nineteenth Legion said. "I didn't know what he meant, I didn't ask any further, I just finished my breakfast in front of him."

"What do you eat?"

"A bowl of delicious white porridge." Koraks said, his expression looking bewildered.

"And I couldn't figure out what was wrong with him, and he served me a lavish breakfast for nearly a month after that day. Each meal consists of seven different meat and vegetarian dishes, accompanied by a variety of drinks and some fruits that I can't even name. ”

"Well, this. It's a little more than I expected. Conrad Coetze raised his hand and rubbed his brow.

"So be it, brother. I'll have an exchange meeting on Nostramo, Astarte-style. Exchanging martial arts, experiences, sharing each other's cultures, and so on, you can get your legions off orbit, and at that point, I'll figure it out. ”

"I'm sorry for you." Corax said slightly apologetically. "Doesn't that really make you feel tricky? I mean, I actually have a way to do it."

The Lord of the Night smiled softly.

"Oh, that's nothing, Corax." He blinked. "I said, you and I are brothers."

Updated.

Truth be told, the Raven King's treatment of these Terra-Terran veterans is one of the few black spots he has

(End of chapter)