Carlil stepped out of the shuttle, down to earth, standing on the ground of Olympia.

Perturabo stood beside him, slowly taking off his special gloves. The cockpit of a normal shuttle would be difficult for even Astarte to maneuver finely, let alone the genogen, and Perturabo clearly disagreed.

He used some principles and techniques in the universe that probably only he and the Emperor knew to create the glove, so that he could manipulate the shuttle like an arm-and-arm command from the air.

But why?

I'm afraid that the genius knows why he did this, and Carlil naturally doesn't think about it, he is busy observing the scene below, although he does not know the name of this Olympian city-state, he has already begun to like it.

The apron chosen by Perturabo is located on an elevated position, from which you can overlook the below.

The orderly buildings stand in harmony among the mountains and forests like cascading tarot cards, surrounded by white stone walls, which are probably quite historical and symbolic than practical, but this does not prevent them from being majestic.

The urban planning is even more unique, the various areas are cleverly integrated together, and do not look messy, but reveal a sense of beauty full of life.

Combined with the blue skies of Olympia, it can be said that it is no worse than Maculag.

At least it seems.

"How?" Perturabo asked in a tone that didn't make out the specific emotion.

"It's beautiful here." Carlil said. "Reminds me of Terra."

"Terra?" The genogen raised his eyebrows suspiciously. "Either you're different from my impression of Terra, or you're deceiving or fooling me, Karil Lohals. Tyra and Lokos have nothing in common."

"I mean the sky." Carlil explained more softly. "It's a great place for falcons to fly."

He stretched out his hand and pointed to the sky, just as a flock of birds flapped their wings in a row. Perturabo followed them with his gaze, nodded, and reluctantly agreed with Carlil's statement.

A nobleman greeted him from the side, dressed in a dark gray robe with an intricate family coat of arms on his chest. Perturabo glanced at him and called out a name: "Aristein's? ”

The nobleman nodded in awe.

"I know Jefer Tali, the most distinguished general in your family." Peturabo continued. "By age, he should be your great-grandfather."

The nobleman nodded again, and awe had turned into a joy mixed with shock as he tried to introduce his name, but Perturabo interrupted him with a cold hand raised.

"You don't have to introduce yourself to me, I don't have time to hear your name, young man. Now take your guards and step back, I have something to do. ”

His words sounded like an insult, but the young man from House Aristein bowed his head respectfully and left with his guards, apparently having long been told about the character of the Lord of Olympia.

They boarded another shuttle, which had a silver tail and a fairly wide overall design. Perturabo watched it take off and nodded slowly.

"The seventh-generation design iteration is doing well." He stood beside Carlil and introduced him in a self-contained manner. "I personally designed the civilian shuttle, which supports back and forth between the atmosphere, with low cost, strong reliability, and supports later modification."

"Your sales pitch skills are pretty good." Carlil replied with a smile. "Sounds like I'd like to buy some for the Legion."

His words undoubtedly made Peturabo's face a little darker again: "Don't test my tolerance for you, Karil Lohals. ”

"I try." Carlil kept his smile and lowered his head in obedience.

Perturabo stared at him in silence for a moment before looking away.

He lowered his head and twisted the white bracelet he was wearing on his right wrist, a holographic curtain of light projected out, and he began to move his fingers busily.

Observing his posture, Carlil easily came to the conclusion that Perturabo was probably not in a hurry to see his sister.

The instructor of the Nightblades turned his head silently and stepped to the other side to observe the city called Lokos. He looked at the magnificent and historic buildings with admiration, and once again found some illusions of the past.

Like Maculag, Nostramo, and even Nucaria, Olympia has some kind of one-sided illusion that belongs to his memory.

Sensing this gave him a little relief—even though the water star was gone, at least some of her remained

These thoughts flowed through his heart, which was gradually not open to anyone to talk about, and ended in a violent explosion.

Carlil narrowed his eyes and looked up. He saw a shuttle falling from the sky.

"That's your seventh generation design, Perturabo." Carlil spoke softly. "And it was shot down."

"The airframe part has not been completely destroyed, and the forced landing system has begun to function."

Perturabo replied quickly, his voice so calm that it barely looked like him. In fact, it is the behavior of this explanation that is least like his.

"According to the speed of the forced landing, as long as he is not directly hit, the descendants of the Aristine family can survive."

"So—" Carlil turned his head. "—what's going on?"

"The attack was delivered by a city defense cannon, located on the southeast wall." Peturabo said coldly.

There were countless streams of data in front of him in front of him, and the speed was terrifying. The Primordial Entity was able to intercept a few numbers from them with precision, and turned them into substantial, helpful information.

Rather than involve Carlil in the discussion, he chose to analyze it himself. He gave all the useful information.

"Eighty percent of the city's defense guns are abandoned, they do not have the ability to fire, they are outdated. Only the remaining twenty percent of the remaining fire-fighting function and utility are preserved as one of the exhibits visited by students on November each year, and the keepers of these city defense guns are the Colenmar family of Lokos. ”

"They just submitted a full maintenance report this year, and all the city defense guns that are on display are able to fire normally, but they only have permission to use them in November, and on weekdays, they can't be used in any way. It's possible that it's a bug, but considering I've only landed for a short time."

Perturabo twisted his bracelet and closed the light curtain, his expression already dark. He raised his hand and pressed a button on his collar, and the voice belonging to Frix the City Breaker immediately rang out: "Original! Are you okay?! ”

"That's not my shuttle." The Iron Lord told his company commander slowly but forcefully. "The shuttle belongs to the descendants of the Aristein family, they just took off, and not long after we landed."

"What do you mean?" Fricks paused for a moment before speaking again, his voice already hiding something.

"I'll send you some data, Frix. Take them to those people, and in four hours at the latest, I will see the full story and the results of the inference. I give you the right to fire, and you can exercise that power in Lokos if necessary. ”

"Understood, Primordial."

Perturabo pressed the button again and hung up the communication. Carlil, on the other hand, filled the void that belonged to Frix.

"So, you've come to the conclusion that it's unlikely to be a pure coincidence?" He asked cautiously.

"There are no coincidences in the world, Carlil Lohals. Even those flashes of inspiration that only appear in a few scientific research experiments are one of the natural results of scientists' long-term efforts. ”

Perturabo explained gloomily as he reached to the corner of the tarmac and reached for a button that had been painted a bright red.

It's not at all the same level as the other buttons, it's as shiny as new, not only has it been unused, but it's even as new as if it's been maintained regularly.

A few seconds later, a mechanical roar rang out in Carlil's ears, and a huge vehicle with the potential capacity for four genetic protogens was transported from under the tarmac by a robotic arm.

It doesn't look very special, black and gray make up the main colors, but the construction is quite special.

It has no roof and no tires. The overall shape is quite weird, but it can give people a natural beauty. The details are stacked on top of each other to make it look as if it had been cut from stone in one piece.

"Did you design this car too?" Carlil asked.

"Yes." Petura Bora opened the door and sat in the driver's seat. "Or do you think anyone else can design a car like this?"

Carlil didn't answer the Iron Lord's words, but just got into the car and sat in the passenger seat. Perturabo activated it, and with the roar of the engines, the car flew up and carried them in a low-flying manner towards the city beneath their feet.

The air current, which was supposed to be frenzied, was perfectly cut by the overall shape of the vehicle, without causing any disturbance to the two people in the car, and even the blowing of the hair was within an acceptable range.

Carlil sat up straight, tapping the index fingers of both hands on his knees, his eyes narrowed into a line.

He began to feel more and more that it was not the right decision to come back with the company commander Dantiok.

Now, the direction of this matter is becoming more and more complex and confusing. And, regardless of the truth, Carlil is confident that Perturabo will find a reason to pour out his anger.

- The Iron Lord's right hand on the circular lever was already bruised.

There's probably another chapter.

(End of chapter)