The rain curtain of Ulanor is shaking to the solemn singing, and hundreds of thousands of singers have been recruited from all over the galaxy, and their lifelong cultivation is now shining at the triumphal ceremony. They added to the glory of the triumphal ceremony, and it was here that their skills were finally achieved.

At this moment, some people chant in a low voice, some sing loudly, and some hum vague songs that are not in tune. Together, their voices ascended to a higher realm under the co-ordination of some kind of power. It's complicated, but it's also harmonious, everything is so perfect that it's almost tearful.

Amid the song, the soldiers of the Imperial Army took the lead in walking through the pre-paved gray-white path and stepping onto another obsidian avenue. Armored vehicles, tanks, and self-propelled guns rumbled behind them, and torrents of steel rolled in with unstoppable force.

The banner of the Empire fluttered at both ends of the road, towering, but only reaching the Titans' heads. Hundreds of massive war machines marched with strides, shook the ground, and marched majestically forward, making sounds far louder than thunder.

The Astarte phalanx followed, and almost all of the legions made an appearance in it, even Loja Aurelian, who refused to come, sent some of the Bearers. Their armor shone with pride, and even the most indifferent to fame and fortune puffed up their chests at the moment.

However, it is not only the ground that is occupied by the imperial power, but also the sky.

The clouds were dark, and the massive presence above the orbit cast shadows downward. Countless steel falcons streaked across the sky in an orderly manner, and the ammunition fired from the place where the weapons should have been mounted exploded in the air like brilliant stellar fragments.

On the high platform, Carlil silently withdrew his gaze.

There's no way he can comment on this kind of scenario, it's not his area of expertise. Besides, he didn't think he needed to comment on anything - even a blind man could tell from his voice what kind of event it was.

Moreover, the parade is only a prelude to the triumphal ceremony, and the real highlight is still to come.

He looked into the shadows and caught the silhouette of the Praetorian Army. They are meticulously inspecting the entire high platform with an unprecedentedly active attitude, what does this mean, naturally needless to say, there is only one person in the entire human galaxy who has such qualifications.

Carlil habitually clasped his hands and silently cleared his mind. Instead of standing with the Primitives, he chose a separate corner for himself. The parade has begun, and there is a place for everyone.

The primordials stood in the best place, their guards stood a short distance behind them, followed by painters, narrators, officials, and servants

The corner Carlil chose was not among any of them, and the exquisite design of the high platform gave it a good view from every corner, and it was not much different from where he stood.

The so-called 'best' place of the primordials is actually only the closest to the emperor.

Thinking of this, he couldn't help but chuckle. Not to laugh at it, but to simply think it was absurd - yes, his sense of humor had never been normal, and it had already been on Nostramo.

After all, you can't expect someone who will greet a gargoyle to have a normal person's sense of humor.

"What are you laughing at?" A voice rang out from behind him, the slight sound of his robes dragging to the ground, and the metal crash of the scepter as it hit the ground heavily.

Carlil didn't need to look back to know who it was, and although he knew, he was still a little surprised by his presence.

"You're there?" He asked without looking back.

"Of course, a faithful servant like me would not miss such an occasion." Macado approached him and laughed hoarsely. "I didn't really want to come, but he threatened me."

"Threat?" Carlil raised an eyebrow. "What did he say?"

"He threatened to put up my little collection for auction. Leonardo da Vinci's manuscript, portrait of Napoleon" The palm printer sighed and shook his head. "He didn't even choose the right plan, where is the real value of these old antiques now?"

"Maybe I'll make a bid." Carlil smiled. "These are priceless treasures."

"It's just useless garbage, a slightly larger particle in the dust of history, not worth mentioning." Machado said this, and then reached out and let go of the scepter.

A flash of light flashed across the surface of the golden aquila, and the scepter stood calmly in place. The Palm Sealer adjusted his stance so that he could lean on it and share some of his fatigue for a while.

Carlil narrowed his eyes, lowered his head, and took a good look at Machado for a moment.

The latter did not refuse his visitation and even generously removed his hood. The face was a little older than the last time I saw it, and he was so weakened that he almost had eyes that looked like the old man he had once been.

Carlil immediately shook his hand solemnly.

"What the hell are you doing, Machado?" He frowned, almost angry. "It's only been a few decades, how can you get old like this?"

"Oh, my lord, I'm only a mortal, and of course I'll get old—" replied the Palm Sealer humorously, a smile fleeting, and as soon as it was over, he changed his mind. "Of course, if you're wondering, I'm not impossible."

"Then let's talk about it."

"Spy on fate." Macado replied softly. "And that's the price I paid, he was watched by them, almost a blind man. I, on the other hand, have tolerated a little bit of me by despying me."

"That's it?" Carlil didn't hold back his anger after all, and his voice suddenly became higher. "You're just tossing yourself into this for this?"

"Before you accuse me, let's see what you've done before, Carlil." Machado burst out laughing, startlingly open-minded.

He pulled out the hand that Carlil was holding, and used it to grasp the scepter, and the golden light flashed in his eyes. The hood was windless, covering his gray hair and decrepit face.

The Palm Printer spoke softly again.

"What we're going to do doesn't tolerate any possibility of failure, so I'm going to take a peek at the cost of more. I know you'd probably say, why not go to Conrad Coz and St. Giles. Yes, I can indeed find them, and they will be happy to help me. But who can guarantee that the future they see will be right? ”

"And how can you be sure that what you're seeing is right?" Carlil asked rhetorically.

"I can't guarantee it." Makado said. "But I don't need them right either, actually, quite the opposite, I need to be wrong."

Carlil was slightly stunned.

"It's an insurance, my friend." Macado told him gently. "As you think, my mistakes prove them right. The more I get wrong, the more right they get, understand? ”

"I don't understand." Carlil said. "But I respect your choice."

"That's enough." Macado said softly.

He held the scepter and was silent for a moment. Carlil didn't speak, just stood side by side with him.

The rain was shining, the voices were boiling, and the power and power of the empire reached its peak at this moment. The alien race has perished countless times, and most of the human world that was once separated in the old night has now been recovered.

Everything seems to be moving in a good direction, hope shines at the end of the road, and people are looking forward to the future, but only a few people know what the future really looks like.

Machado gripped his scepter sadly, his body shaking.

He had never been so emotionally exposed, and there had never been a moment of sadness like this. He almost wept, but the palm prints were bloodless and tearless. The will buried beneath his old and decrepit skin forcefully erased everything, leaving nothing in peace.

Carlil slowly raised his head and looked up at the sky. He didn't know what the future would become, he only had a vague premonition, a perception of a few words. But that's enough, as in the past. Eternal years have passed by in a snap of a finger. He has come to this day without regrets.

And at this moment, in the rain curtain, there is an invisible golden light quietly flickering. A man who wanted to come, but couldn't, chose to experience this brief moment with his friends in this way.

It was a moment that belonged only to the three fools, and a moment that no one but them knew. All sacrifices begin here, and all good things pass away, no one can understand, no one can share, no one can capture.

There is only silence, only firmness.

The game is undecided.

A few minutes later, the light faded, and Machado closed his eyes and guided the choir with his psionic energy to the climax of the parade.

Millions of pairs of eyes looked at the high platform at this moment, the golden light was magnificent, the rain curtain was still, the promethium torch that reached the sky was blazing, and the pale eyes of the orcs were also reflected in the golden light.

The humid air of Ulanor began to change suddenly, and a blazing sun slowly rose from the center of the platform with a strong wind, and the emperor in golden armor appeared in the light. The Lord of Mankind is enveloped in light, not a god, far more than a god.

In this moment, the primordial, the soldier, the Astarte, the painter, the narrator, the official, the servant. Even the sapient servants stared at him, unable to take their eyes off him. Of the tens of millions of eyes, only two did not look at him.

After a few seconds, the emperor finally spoke.

The sky was no longer gloomy, the stars were bright, and his armor shone brightly. Warm, but also dazzling, people can hardly keep their own thoughts, can only stare at him in a daze, can only wait for what he is about to say next.

The air trembled, the stars were silent, and his voice finally rang out in everyone's ears in the next second.

He simply declared.

"We've won."

So the mountains and the tsunami swept in.

Updated.

Trying to write a little bit of epicness

(End of chapter)