This was the first time Peturabo had climbed the walls of Makulag.

The shadows cast by the tall buildings and the grandeur of Robert Killman's court obscured him, and the Iron Lord's armor was still mottled, and he had not had time to repair it, and when he landed, the sun had set, and now it was even darker, and not half a star was visible.

It is speculated that this is due to the subspace storm summoned by the Whisperers, and the stars were smeared in the blood of innocents by them to the extreme blackness, which I don't know how many people's naïve perception of the truth of the empire will collapse

And that's probably what they're for.

Extreme inferiority.

Perturabo thought in disgust, and restrained his emotions, not letting the disgust develop into hatred—he had a theory, based on facts, which could not be proved for the time being, but it was enough for him to extinguish the cold fire in his chest for the time being.

He couldn't allow himself to simply hate everything.

At least, not until he met Conrad Coetzes.

At this moment, there is still smoke outside the city, and the airborne compartment and shuttle are being recovered. Transports and airships entered the city from the wide open gates, and the maintenance team was busy repairing the damaged areas of the airborne warehouse in this ancient and progressive city.

They are busy, because not only do they have to deal with this kind of work that could last all night, but they also have to chase away the civilians who are watching the excitement.

No matter how advanced they are, the people of Maculag are probably not exempt from this matter. It's human nature to be observant, otherwise what would we do with our eyes and empathy?

Perturabo thought, diverging his thoughts, taking in all of it calmly and without commenting. He began to pace back and forth along the ancient wall, which he could tell the age of the wall by calculating it with the naked eye.

It has survived at least six hundred years of weather, and the people of Maculag still stand there, and the stone bricks that line the walls have even taken on a strange pale white.

The Olympians closed their eyes, took a deep breath, and smelled the burning smell, as well as the pungent smell of the fire extinguishing agent that opposed it.

He was familiar with this fire extinguishing agent, which is a powerful chemical that can even curb the combustion of promethium flames to a certain extent if the dose is increased.

Thinking of this, the corners of Perturabo's mouth twitched for no reason.

The smile was not an expression he was familiar with, let alone a self-deprecating smile that was completely insulated from him. But he does have mixed emotions in his heart, that's for sure

Cranky, I'm completely cranky and a waste of time.

He simply opened his eyes.

"It's not a good idea to approach me behind my back, Ms. Judton." The primordial gave a faint warning. "I'm at war, and your quiet attempts to get close to me like this will only get you some not-so-good results."

The little Makulag looked up at him.

"Anger is an act of impotence." She said. "I'm sure you wouldn't do that, sir?"

"That depends on how angry I really am." Perturabo narrowed his eyes. "But what about you? Did you leave Robert Killman's palace to provoke me? This is not a wise move. ”

"Of course not, honorable primordial." Yudon bowed slightly as a sign of humility, but was met with an answer that was the exact opposite of what she had expected.

She had heard of Peturabo's personality and had seen it with her own eyes, but who would have thought that the Lord of Steel would say the following?

"Don't call me that." Peturabo said coldly. "I hate that prefix, and besides, you don't really respect me."

"Why?"

Perturabo looked at her, the corners of his mouth visibly curled downward in a sarcastic manner. In a sense, his expression is probably an answer.

Some people have cultivated the art of speaking all their lives, and they are cautious in their words and deeds, and they face every conversation with a reverent attitude, just to be like a spring breeze to everyone.

Others choose to treat the world as they see it, and anyone in it, in a brutal, simple, and direct way.

For them, one is one, two is two, and success is always greater than failure.

"Would you honor a loser?" Perturabo asked sincerely. "A loser who watched his brother die but couldn't do anything about it?"

"You shouldn't say that to me, Master Perturabo, and that's not the truth." Yutun replied cautiously, and walked slowly to the edge of the wall with his cane.

She was wearing a thick coat and her white hair fluttered in the burning night wind. Not far away, a group of children could be heard frolicking loudly, and children must have been like this forever.

They are still in a state of ignorance for the time being, and in their world, the meteors that cross the sky today are probably just some beautiful dandelions forged by imagination, scattered with the wind, nothing more.

War does not exist in their world, and it should not exist.

"I know." Peturabo said. "But I need to vent a thing or two, and according to the conclusion of the evaluation calculation, of all the people at the moment, you are the most suitable person."

"Can't Lord Vulcan afford your occasional emotional breakdown?"

"He's so good, and he's only a lot more painful than I am. I will not increase his pressure at this time, the mourning dragon is also a dragon, and on the battlefield, it can still incinerate the enemy with flames. But grief is a different concept. ”

Perturabo replied calmly, and looked away, staring up at the defensive barrier of Macurag City, the pale blue energy shield taking on an alternate dreamlike texture in the night sky.

Looking at this scene, he suddenly understood why Maculag had so many poems praising the starry sky at night. If the subspace storm hadn't obscured the stars, the night sky would have been so beautiful that it would have been impossible to take your eyes off it

It's a pity, it's a pity.

"Your speech is amazing."

"So are you."

"Your Excellency?"

"Robert Kiliman's way of talking about compliments sounding stinging was learned from you." Peturabo looked at her with a slight sarcasm and raised his chin. "Amazing, ma'am."

"That's what you think of him?" Yutun frowned.

"Or else? Robert Killiman, Lord of the Five Hundred Worlds, Great Space King——! ”

Peturabo laughed, spread his hands, and even used an aria. He looked at Yudon with a defiant gaze.

"You are a tolerant and strict mother, I know that at first glance, so I understand your special filter for him. Robert Killiman is probably perfect in your heart, right? I'm sorry, ma'am, but that's not the case with us. ”

"He's a proud megalomaniac, outwardly polite to everyone, but always able to reveal his characteristic Marcula pride in the details. Throne on, do you know how many times I've wanted to pull up his collar and tell him to stop talking to me like that? ”

It was obvious that Yudon was stunned by the stormy accusations, a little confused, a little angry, a little overwhelmed—all of which had been revealed in a matter of seconds.

In the night breeze, her expression returned to calm, and she even had the strength to sigh.

Looking at her, looking at the eyes that were so similar to those of Killiman, Perturabo knew in his heart that his plan had failed.

"Your lord, your plan may be clever, but it won't work with me." The white-haired lady smiled and tapped the floor tiles with her cane. "Robert Killiman has deliberately bewitched himself countless times so that I can scold him."

"For example, when his father just died, he was deliberately drunk and yelled at me. He wanted me to rebuke him so that he could rightfully sober up from his grief."

At the time, Maculag was in critical condition, and was in turmoil by the death of a king and the scandal of the assassination. He understood what Robert Killiman needed for the city, but he couldn't get over that hurdle in his heart, as if it was a great perverse thing to take power immediately after his father's death. You resemble him, my lord. ”

"Nope." Peturabo said. "Not at all."

"Really? But don't you all like to use data to speak? And the famous galactic way of command? He and you seem to like to use data, analytics, and multi-threaded command to make warfare feel like a workshop. ”

"I'm much more extreme than him." Perturabo told her. "There will be no more than five fingers in my army to give me advice, and I will not turn war into a game, as he did."

"Games?"

"Yes, the game. I know what he's doing, we've worked together a few times, and I can see some of his habits and his hidden tactical intentions from those side by side. ”

Peturabo waved her right hand happily and began to belittle her son in front of a mother in an ostentatious manner.

"He always leaves the really difficult things to himself, and then selects the simpler ones from the rest of the problems, and then gives them to his staff team, and even gradually. What's he doing? Playing a nurturing game? I'm not going to do that. War is child's play. ”

"But you—" Yudon resisted the urge to sigh. "—something has changed, hasn't it?"

"Huh."

"Your Excellency?"

"What for?" Perturabo asked crudely.

"Were you just laughing?"

"Yes." The original body bowed its head indifferently. "Sneer, sneer, sneer—I was laughing, but there was nothing good in this smile, don't get me wrong, Yudon. You won't understand the cost of this change. ”

"Usually, when people say, 'Don't misunderstand me,' it's so that you don't want to be seen as a bad person, but you don't want to be seen as a good person, which is really strange." Judon grunted. "What a powerful mind."

"What did you say?" Peturabo asked sharply.

"Nothing, sir, you're good hearing."

"I warn you, that's the last time you-"

"-I, what?" Yutun looked at him defiantly and raised his chin. "I didn't say anything, you know it yourself."

Perturabo glared at her, and after more than three seconds of this oppressive gaze, he abruptly looked away again.

"How many servo technicians are there in the Makurag orbital defense system? And what about ground-based weapon launch platforms? He asked, his posture becoming focused, and even his voice fell silent.

Yudon answered his question as if he had expected it, and he was also quick to get into shape. She replied with all the treasures, and even gave additions, worthy of the name of housekeeper.

She spat out number after number, without pause, apparently already familiar with them. When she had finished speaking, Peturabo spoke, looking extremely patient, as if he had just been two people

"A defensive force of terror." The Lord of Steel commented. "I don't think anybody can take Makurag in a frontal attack. But you are ignoring one thing. ”

He narrowed his eyes.

"If Roger Dorn is here—" he said in a cold tone. "—even he would agree with me, that the strongest fortresses are often breached from within, housekeeper, do you understand?"

Yutun nodded solemnly, how could she not understand? Some things can be answered entirely from the stories and proverbs of those who came before us, and that is what history is all about.

"And the Whisperers happen to be very good at this kind of thing, or rather, the evil forces that drove them here are very good at this kind of thing. You think you're ready for war, but they won't do it in the way you are familiar with. ”

"Well, then," Youdon looked at him inquiringly, hoping for a follow-up answer. The Lord of Steel didn't continue, but shook his head at her.

"Leave this to the professionals, Ms. Judton." He said. "Call your heroes, and all the high-ranking officers—I mean all, Ultramarines, Iron Warriors, Salamanders, Death Guards. I want every officer with command to be there, and there is no room for sloppiness in this matter, do you have a suitable place to do this? ”

"Of course, sir." The housekeeper replied quickly, and raised his cane and shook his fingers. "There's a room in the palace that meets your requirements."

"Also."

"What, sir?"

"Is there such a flower in Maculag? Lilac, five centimeters long and about three centimeters wide, with purple petals. ”

Yutun was stunned, she didn't understand why Perturabo would ask such a question. That didn't stop her from answering, though.

"I think. Yes, sir. ”

"Very good, please send one to me, one is enough."

The Lord of Steel bowed his head lightly and walked past her, stepping into the depths of darkness. The armor was mottled and shimmered with silver. And his own voice floated in the darkness, like whispers in the night wind.

There are also 7k, a total of 10,000 today, don't stay up late and wait, pay attention to rest and pinch.

(End of chapter)