The yellow sand was everywhere, the light was distorted by the temperature, and a man in a cloak walked slowly in the desert. He appeared to be wounded, and walked with a limp, but no blood was left behind.

From time to time, he would look back, as if looking for his pursuers. And no one was chasing him in the hot desert, only a monotonous and endless sea of sand staring coldly at him.

The man let out a grunt from his throat, he lowered his head thoughtfully, and a silver arm reached out of his cloak and pulled a jug from his belt.

He unhurriedly twisted the screw cap and tilted his head, somehow keeping the cool clean drinking water touching his lips, but a blade pierced the kettle in the next second.

Luthor wasn't surprised, or rather, he was prepared. The free right hand slammed into the assailant's face at this moment, and the latter tried to dodge, but was struck in the face by Luthor with a broken water bottle as he retreated.

Immediately afterward, an electric current burst from the surface of the kettle, and the attacker fell. Luthor lunged at him, pressed his left hand against his jaw, pressed his right knee against his ribcage, and struck him the bridge of the nose with his right hand.

Blood gushed out, and the intense pain and physiological reaction blurred the man's eyes and made him burst into tears. He struggled, trying to escape, but Luthor took a deep breath, and the knee of his right leg erupted with force at this moment.

With a clatter, the attacker stopped moving, only his fingers twitched.

His mouth opened and closed, foaming blood pouring out of his mouth.

With a sigh, Luthor pulled a silver pin from his belt with a mechanical timer embedded in the end and stabbed it into the assailant's temple, then pressed it.

A one-minute and thirty-second countdown began to beat, and Luthor wasted no time, and in the sudden violent convulsions of the attacker, he asked, "Who sent you?" ”

The attacker spat out a muffled sound from his throat.

Luthor frowned and asked again in his native language, but the attacker still didn't respond. He seemed to understand something, and began to imitate phrases such as 'Daddy' or 'Mommy' in the original tone.

It's funny, but the words used to address parents are similar in all languages. This time, the attacker reacted a little and smiled a somewhat innocent smile.

Luthor shook his head, pulled a short knife from his belt, slammed it through his jaw, and stabbed the assailant in the head.

Blood and brains trickled down the slit in his jaw, but Luthor drew his blade without moving, or immediately began to run, as he had seen in the ninety-nine attacks he had encountered before.

This was already the last assassin to assassinate him, and there was no need to expend extra physical strength. He sat next to the corpse and plunged his left hand deep into the sand. After a few seconds, he got a reading.

"Forty-eight kilometers to go," the Caliban sighed. "That's not a good mission, Agent Twenty-One."

A voice rang out from inside his implantable headset: "Why?" Don't you like this desert trip? ”

"Assassinate a king, escape from the city in chaos, and be hunted down in the desert by a hundred of his most elite hounds, do you call this a trip?"

"At least the view of Loperigor is good."

"I don't like deserts."

"Do you prefer forests?"

Luthor didn't answer the question, just drew his dagger and rose from the ground. He took a few more steps and retrieved the kettle. The knife belonging to the assailant showed a sharp edge, reflecting the bright sunlight on the side of the kettle.

Luther narrowed his eyes and pulled the knife off as well. With the uncomfortable sound of metal grinding, he flipped the short knife and saw the emblem on the hilt.

An eight-pointed star.

The old knight unexpectedly calmed down, shook his hand in disgust, and let the dagger return to the assailant's chest.

"I hear you sighing." Agent 21 spoke again on the other end of the channel. "What happened?"

"Not a good thing." Luthor replied coldly, turning away from the desert. "You know what I'm referring to."

There was a pause on the other end of the communication channel.

"Got it." Agent 21 said. "The purge process starts according to the prescribed process when you report the first attacker, and you just need to wait for the approval of the palm printer."

"Are you still using the psyker to send him an application as before?"

"Or else? Half a galaxy away, could it be that I'm going to get on a boat capable of subspace jumping, run back to Terra, hand him the papers, and then come back to inform you? ”

"That's not humane, isn't it?" Luthor skillfully shifted the subject so that he could distract himself from what was going to happen to Loperigor.

He'd done a lot of things like that, but he wasn't numb yet. Luthor himself couldn't say whether it was good or bad, he just remembered Caliban at some point.

Remembering the forests of the Caliban, to be exact.

"We weren't meant to fight for humanitarianism, Luther." Agent 21 burst out laughing. "Humanitarianism can't make people like you and me abandon their original lives and wander aimlessly in the vast galaxy. We're already ghosts, Luther, and you're still talking about humanitarianism? ”

"I'm a knight." Luthor said. "I have sworn to protect civilians and fight for the innocent. This is my past life, and it cannot be separated from me. ”

"Like Leon El Johnson?"

"You'd better not mention him." Luthor warned. "I don't have time to talk to you about these things right now, the male lion has his own will, and what he wants to do has nothing to do with me."

"I need a word of caution, Luther. Over the past sixteen calendar months of Terra, several different forces of the Dark Angel Legion have tracked down where you once appeared. Do you think this is the will of the lion? ”

"Perhaps."

"But maybe not." Agent 21 pauses for a moment, and some kind of hoarse shouting can be heard from the voice channel. It was the screams of psionics when they were forced to 'overclock' because they were transmitting information too far away.

Luthor had seen it once, and he shuddered, never wanting to see it a second time. Among the agents of the Palm Print, this behavior of his is jokingly called weakness.

"You'd better get it straight." Luthor admonished. "I don't want to hear you implicitly say here that something might be wrong with the Dark Angel, I've talked to the Palm Sealer about this at least a dozen times, and I know more than you do."

"I agree with you on this point, but I hope you can hurry to the evacuation point."

"Why?"

"Because the lion is right next to me." Agent 21 said. "Actually, one of his knights was holding a gun to my head. You'd better hurry up, Luther, I don't want to die for it, I'll curse you. ”

The old knight hung up the communication and stood in place for more than ten seconds before continuing to walk.

——

"Put down your gun, Coswayne." Leon Aljonson said. "This is an agent of the Palm Seal, I don't like them, but they must be treated with the respect they deserve."

"Then I'm so grateful, sir."

Agent 21 replied with a pale face, sitting in a chair with her legs disappearing from her thighs. There are traces of prosthetic limbs on the severed limbs, and as for where they are now, you can try to ask the male lion if he is willing to answer.

"So, how did he answer?" Leon Altheuson asked calmly.

"He didn't answer, I thought you could hear me." Agent 21 said. "I hope you don't get angry about it."

The lion glanced at her, and some kind of dim light flashed in his emerald green eyes: "Interesting, why do you think I'm going to be angry because of this?" ”

"Uh, because—"

"You'd better not do anything you shouldn't do." The lion warned. "Stop pretending to be a weak, ignorant stupid villain, Agent Twenty-One, take your hands off the armrest of that chair. You're losing my respect for you. ”

As the voice sounded, Coswayne raised the gun in his hand again and pressed it against her forehead.

“.”

There was silence, and Agent 21 raised his hands.

"Very well, now tell me, what is Luthor doing on this planet?"

"It's confidential, my lord, and I have no right to tell you."

Agent 21 was no longer nervous, she answered the lion's question with great calm, and even had room to observe Coswayne. The latter was unmoved by her observations, and still did not say a word, just raised his gun.

"You can choose to remain silent on this matter, but I have the right to know something else." The lion narrowed his eyes and said. "Like, how much has Luthor the Caliban done for you all these years?"

"There's something wrong with your wording, Luthor isn't 'doing things for us,' he's one of us."

"He is a knight of the Order, the Grand Mentor of the First Legion."

"Not anymore." Agent 21 smiled at him. "Or rather, it wasn't a long time ago. Dear lion, I notice that you seem to be a little confused."

"Go on." The lion told her. "I allow you a moment of disrespect."

Agent Twenty-One bowed slightly pompously, "Luthor is one of the agents of the Palm Sealer, in fact, he is now the most outstanding of us. Did you know that your pursuit of him has in some way violated the laws of the Empire? ”

"When the dust settles, I'll go back to Terra myself to find my father on trial." Leon Aljonson said calmly. "You don't have to press me with words like the law, even if Conrad Cotz is standing here today, I need to get to the bottom of it."

Agent Twenty-One slowly lowered his hand and shrugged his shoulders. She didn't say anything more, and put her hands in front of her in an orderly manner. Coswayne put away her gun again, but pushed her and her chair away from the console on the bridge.

The servants watched the scene in bewilderment and did not react. Thirty minutes later, a boarding signal began flashing on the console.

Leon El Johnson passed it with his own hands.

There is one more chapter.

(End of chapter)