40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 531 49. Record of the Warband Era (10, Calth, 10,000)

The war is over, people have always said that and similar things. Every time they said that, Buster Thorne felt a stab of pain in his head.

This phenomenon has happened many times in his thirty-two years of life so far, with very high frequency. And, just now, as he was busy breaking the stone with his pickaxe, someone said it again.

Then the headache came back.

The man's low-pitched, resentful murmurs gave Buster a splitting headache and made him uncontrollably angry.

"They're crazy, so they never let us go to the surface. What's so good about living down here in these tunnels? My mom told me there's sunlight on the surface, and I don't know what it is, but it's better than these damn lights. The battle of Qiang Kaos is obviously over, why do they still do this? "

Before we get started, there are a few things you need to know about Buster Thorne.

To put it in simpler terms, he was born underground in Cowes, joined the army as soon as he came of age, and served for many years until he was forced to retire three months ago.

His superiors bluntly stated that Buster Thorne deserved a better life after the series of misfortunes he encountered. But this was just an excuse. The truth was that they all agreed that Bust had to move.

But Buster was very puzzled by this.

He didn't understand why his superiors wanted to kick him back down the tunnels to live with these ungrateful bastards. In his opinion, he should stay in the army and continue to fight for the Emperor, Robert Guilliman and Calth. And fight.

He deserves a better life, doesn't he? In his opinion, his "better life" is to go into battle to kill the enemy, and to continue to hold the light gun and fight for protection.

Buster stopped his hands and let the pickax fall to the ground with a thud. Then he turned his head and looked at the man who was talking just now in the team of workers.

This man was the one he was sworn to protect.

"Shut up," he said.

"Oh, Brother Soldier!"

The man quickly raised his hands and shouted his nickname. There was something between mockery, anger, and fear on that sweaty face. To Bust, this expression could be called cowardice.

He neither dared to admit that he was complaining, nor did he want to simply back down. He was afraid of what Buster might do to him, but he wanted to maintain his dignity in front of his fellow workers. These things put him in a dilemma and made him look very ridiculous now.

"I just apologize-" The man smiled weakly, putting on a nonchalant face. "——I was just joking, there is no need for you to be angry."

"I'm not angry with you. If I were, you would be lying on the ground right now. Your right hand would be broken, your ribs would be broken by my boot, and your damn mouth, I would Use a pick to dig out every tooth inside."

As Buster spoke, he lifted the pickaxe in his hand. It fell to the ground again, bursting out with a dull echo. The echo echoed in the tunnel together with Buster's words, echoing in the ears of the gravel, the workers, and the man.

All the workers were looking at him now.

Twenty-one people, a small team. Sent by Orm City beneath Calth, they were responsible for cleaning the tunnel that collapsed due to the earthquake. Their job is to clear away the rubble, and repairs are left to other workers.

There is no shortage of jobs in the city, or rather, underground in Cowes. Whether it's 10,000-year-long downward excavation work, urban expansion, or fungus cultivation, people always have something to be busy with.

Let's talk about this team, led by Buster. They set off at six o'clock in the morning when the sun could not be seen, and arrived at the work place after three hours. It was already five o'clock in the evening.

They ate two meals of mushroom soup and the temporary food rations issued to them. If nothing unexpected happened, they would be off work for another hour. Then they would go home and enjoy their vacation tomorrow.

But Buster didn't want to take a vacation, and he didn't want to let this frequent complainer off so easily.

He's had enough.

He has only been in office for three months, but he has already heard too many such rumors. The people were very unhappy with them and the Astartes, as if they were harming the people of Calth.

"Do you have any dissatisfaction with the Sons of Calth or us?" Booster asked indignantly.

"What -? No! No! Of course not, of course I didn't!" The man became even more frightened, and he raised his voice to express his true thoughts.

In his eyes, Buster saw an obvious flinch. That kind of flinching can almost be read by him: Don't do this, Brother Soldier, I just apologize, please don't continue.

But Buster just wants to continue. Once something starts, there is no turning back.

"But it sounds like you do," Buster said. "And it's not just the usual complaints. Since I was transferred to the team three months ago, from what I have seen and heard with my own eyes, you have complained a total of two hundred and forty-six times."

"Obviously, this idea was not born in your brain for the first time. You really want to go to the surface to have a look, don't you?"

The man's face flushed, and there was an indescribable emotion brewing on his face, which was as pale as all the people of Calth.

Buster let go and let the pickaxe fall to the ground. He straightened his dirty work clothes and approached him.

He met his eyes.

"Now let me tell you something. Your mother is right. There is sunshine on the surface of the earth, but it is not the sunshine you imagined. The light of the sun is poisonous and can bake people alive or roast them to death. You Do you know the difference between the two?"

The man shook his head, shaking his head vigorously, sweat splashing.

"You die immediately, you die later, you have to wear a hazmat suit to walk around in that sun. So that's the sun, Gotling, the sun on the surface will cook you. But other than that , do you know what else is on the surface?”

"I-I don't know, sir."

"And the fucking bastard traitors," Buster said.

He turned to look around and found that the workers had gathered around him. They are all quite pale, and usually their eyesight is not very good. Their hands are very long, and their nails are so hard that they can shatter some not-so-hard stones.

This was true of Buster himself, as was the case of all those born beneath Calth. It is said that ten thousand years ago, the people of Kaos were not like this.

As for now, the workers are now exclaiming in low voices, not because of anything else, but because of the word traitor that Buster said. These two words were like a heavy hammer, causing them so much pain that they could only scream.

"I don't know where they came from, and I don't want to know, but they are on the surface. They are covered in pustules, and their skin is as rough as leather. They are wearing human skin and they can only scream randomly."

"And you, Gotling, do you know what would happen to someone like you if they discovered you the moment you stepped onto the surface?"

Before he could answer, Buster began to explain himself.

"You will be eaten," he said calmly. "They start with your nose first and I've seen it with my own eyes and they love to bite other people's noses off."

The workers' screams stopped and turned into a gasp of fear. There is never a shortage of ghost stories in underground caves, unstable shaking light sources, whistling winds, and dark tunnels. These things are perfect carriers of the atmosphere of fear.

And what Buster tells is scarier than a ghost story. Because the stories he told were his personal experiences, he told them in a straightforward manner, as sharp as a knife.

"Before I retired, these bastards once broke into one of our above-ground fortresses. We fought them head-on, but they ran so fast that they could rush in front of you in the blink of an eye and then pounce on you. body."

"They'll stick their fingers down your throat and then they'll bite your nose off, your cheek flesh and your tongue with their teeth. They'll eat it from the face and then the rest, and that's what I saw with my own eyes."

"So, tell me now, why do you think we won't let you go to the surface?"

Gotlin swallowed with sweat.

"Ha, the fucking war is over"

As Buster spoke, he actually laughed. He was trembling slightly, not because of anything else, but simply because of anger.

He suppressed his emotions well, but he still couldn't help but feel anger welling up - my troops died to protect you, and the sons of Calth also died to protect you, but you turned around and accused us of depriving you. Your freedom?

"The war never ends," Buster began to roar. "You want to know when it's going to end?!"

With tears in his eyes, Gotlin stammered: "I, I, I think, sir."

"The Battle of Calth will never end until the last Word Bearers bastard and the last of their Auxiliary bastards die!" Buster roared.

At this moment, his voice didn't sound like his own, but like that of a Son of Calth sergeant he had met. In fact, this sentence was also a sentence in the sergeant's speech.

Booster memorized it, combining it with the history of Calth's battles he had learned at Tadashi Academy to form a deep hatred.

Unlike these civilians, Buster knew what he was fighting for. It was precisely because of this that he was able to persist alone in that besieged ground fortress for a week.

He should have been promoted for this, from sergeant to company commander, even his superiors said so but his promotion was stopped because Buster maintained absolute honesty.

He didn't hide anything. Even though he was still lying on the hospital bed, he insisted on narrating the entire process of holding his position orally to the officers who came to investigate.

Trapped inside, he had no shortage of ammunition, five automatic sentry guns and two loading servitors, but he had no food. At that time, most of the fortress had been captured, leaving only a small position from which he had retreated.

The traitors tempted him with food from the storehouse and persuaded Buster to surrender, but he refused to surrender.

Yes, there was no food around him, but there were many dead brothers around him.

According to Buster himself, 'the dead asked him to do it', which led to his diagnosis of mental illness.

Immediately after recovering from injury, Bust was forced to retire and then assigned duties. To this day, he still feels bad about this matter, not because he failed to get promoted, but because no one believed in him.

He actually heard the voices of the dead.

"From now on, I don't want to hear any bullshit coming out of your mouth." Buster said to Gotling with red eyes.

His voice had changed from a roar to a normal tone, but the words spoken like this made it even more terrifying. The threat was palpable.

Buster turned back to the pickaxe, picked it up and resumed work. He knew that what he said and did today would be reported, but he no longer cared.

Right is right and wrong is wrong. He doesn't want to be on the same team as someone like Gotling.

He vented his anger by swinging the pickaxe, each blow heavier and faster than the one before. Ten minutes later, the last bit of stone was broken, the rubble was swept aside, and the light source of the emergency lights loomed at both ends of the tunnel.

But at this moment, Buster caught a glimpse of a murky outline. He raised the light on his waist and saw a statue.

It was an extreme warrior holding a military flag in his hand. His face was blurred, but miraculously he survived the collapse of the tunnel unharmed. Buster approached it and saw the statue's name on the base.

Remus Ventanus, Captain of the Fourth Company of the Ultramarines, the first Chapter Master of the Sons of Calth, and the hero of Calth.

Buster put down the light and began to fumble around his belt with the fingers of his right hand. He wanted to place the lamp on the base of the statue so he could better see its details.

As a native of Calth, he certainly knew about Remas Ventanus, and it can be said that without him, the residents of Calth would not have regained a foothold in the underground caves. It was he who led the people of Calth to continue fighting, and finally persisted until the large forces of the Ultramarines returned to support them.

With a heart of reverence, Buster gently bumped the heels of his boots, planning to salute an eagle. However, at this moment, a gust of cold wind came from the end of the dark tunnel.

It came from behind the statue of Remas Ventanus, so cold that it almost made you speechless, which was completely unnatural. Every underground tunnel in Cowes is equipped with heating equipment. Even if this section is damaged due to temporary collapse, the temperature will not drop so fast.

Buster's hands that were about to be raised stopped at his waist. He stared straight at the darkness. The light of the searchlight shone steadily from behind the tempered glass, dividing the darkness into uneven small pieces. The noise remains the same, and even intensifies.

In the end, not only him, but also the workers who were packing their things and planning to take the transport truck back to Orm City felt the chill. They stopped and looked here in surprise.

Then, a big hand reached out from the darkness and gently took Buster's lamp away.

"Hello." Someone whispered quietly in the darkness, and two scarlet dots suddenly lit up. "Excuse me, how can I get to the nearest city?"

The workers answered his words with screams, while Buster responded with life-threatening hugs and a loud roar.

"Run!"

——

"I'm sorry for causing such inconvenience."

In the intricate underground caves beneath Calth, in the fortress monastery of the Sons of Calth Chapter, Yago Severtalion slowly spoke.

"But we are helpless. Your underground cave is more complex than a maze, and the communication system cannot function properly due to electromagnetic signal disorder. We can't even contact you. We have no choice, so we came up with this last resort."

Hectors Calgio, Chapter Master of the Sons of Calth, nodded expressionlessly.

This was not because of anything else, or because he didn't believe Sevatar's words, but simply because he still couldn't understand the current situation.

This morning, he was still having a headache on how to organize the next wave of offensive to counterattack the surface. As a result, at night, five hundred Nightborne suddenly appeared on Calth.

Not only that, even five chapter leaders personally led the team. Even the legendary Yago Severtarion came in person. He almost thought for a moment that some damn big demon was going to appear on Calth to cause such a situation.

After a while, Calgio realized that he really should say something instead of remaining silent. So he coughed with difficulty and began to try to formulate words.

"Well, first of all - Cowes welcomes you all, but I really don't know something. Anyway, please forgive me for being rude, cousins. I want to know, how did you arrive at Cowes?"

"Deadly storms and our cancer-stricken sun have made the space around here so dangerous that even the damned Zerg don't want to come here. Our Gene Father holds an annual meeting on how to bring supplies to Calth After more than a dozen meetings, you arrived at Cowes like this? "Where is your ship?"

"We didn't come by boat," said Sevata.

He showed a rare hint of melancholy, and it was so obvious that even someone like Calgio, who was not familiar with him, could see it directly.

The son of Calth felt a chill in his heart and began to worry about his guess. Unlike most worlds in the Empire, Calth has never been a peaceful world. Since the attack ten thousand years ago, the war on this place has never ended.

The people of Calth not only have to face the bad environment, the poisonous sun, and the mutated descendants of the wildling auxiliary army left by the Word Bearers, but they also have to always be wary of the Word Bearers who are still eyeing Calth.

The worst part is that they also need to worry about the all-pervasive Chaos invasion.

During these ten thousand years, at least a thousand cult sects traveled across the ocean and came to Calth to perform what they called ascension rituals in order to summon demons.

A cult that can freely come and go between empires is horrifying enough, but coming to Calth is even more incredible - and according to the think tanks of the parent group Ultramarines, it is speculated that this is because Calth has been upgraded in some concepts. .

In this thousand-year war, Calth was one of the first worlds to bleed, and it was also one of the worlds that suffered the most misery. The number of Ultramarines and despicable Word Bearers who died here was even more numerous than they could count.

From this point of view, it can explain why Calth has such a huge appeal to cultists.

But this is a pain for the people of Calth, and the Ultramarines sub-group stationed in Calth, the Sons of Calth.

"Anyway, we didn't come by boat." Savita repeated with a sigh, interrupting Calgio's thinking.

He raised his head, looked at this genuine veteran of ten thousand years, and asked sincerely: "Forgive me for being stupid, Lord Sevita, but how did you get here?"

Sevatar was silent for a moment and said: "If I told you that a day ago we were drinking and eating meat with the Space Wolves in Fenris, would you believe it?"

"If anyone else had told me this, I'd probably think he was crazy," Calgio replied, half-jokingly.

"But that's the fact. We didn't come by boat, nor did we come here on a special trip. In fact, if this was a demonic invasion that required all five chapters of the Nightborne to join forces, you would have received a message from Maku An order from the Glory of Lage.”

"But you didn't receive such an order, or even a similar order, did you? Therefore, what I want to tell you is that the reason why we gathered is not to deal with the demonic invasion."

"You have obscured the point of my question. What I want to know is how you arrived at Calth."

Sevatar said expressionlessly: "Since you insist on knowing the answer, okay - the portal."

Calgio was visibly stunned.

"I'm sorry, sir, did I hear you correctly?"

"No, Chapter Commander Calgio, you heard it right, we came here via the portal. And if you want to ask what kind of portal it is, who opened the portal, and what type of portal it is, I can only answer You have no comment."

"It's not that I don't want to tell you, but I can't explain to you something that I don't even know myself. In short, we arrived at Calth through a portal opened on Fenris. Isn't it amazing?"

After finishing speaking with a half-smile, Yago Savitarion lay back and leaned on the guest sofa in Calgio's office.

The frame of the sofa itself is made of composite metal, which is very strong and can perfectly bear its weight. The Chapter Master of the Sons of Calth stared at him, and it took him a while to finally accept the explanation, but his expression was somewhat indescribable.

".Okay." he said. "So, what are you guys here for?"

"I don't know," Sevita said simply.

"Let me tell you the truth, Calgio, although we have never met before today, the identity code and the information in the database have confirmed our identity, so I really don't want to use lies or anything similar." Something is distracting you."

"We were brought here by a man named Khalil Lohars. He was our only instructor during the legion and the adoptive father of our genetic father."

"For some reasons, he has been separated from us for ten thousand years, and now we have found him back, but he seems to have some mental problems and is leading us around the galaxy. I’m done, do you have any questions?”

Calgio covered his forehead with his hands and rubbed his brows.

He didn't speak, but a voice came from behind him. It was a hoarse male voice, speaking Gothic, with a calm voice but a very rude tone.

"Yago, you shouldn't reveal these things to him."

Calgio turned around suddenly and saw a male mortal wearing a robe, about 1.9 meters tall, standing quietly behind him.

However, as for when this person entered and when he walked behind him, Calgio looked back at his memory and found no clues, as if he was a ghost.

"Oh? Why, instructor? Doesn't Chapter Master Calgio deserve to know these things?"

"He's certainly qualified, but he's not ready yet."

"What preparations?" Sevita asked.

He slowly stood up from the sofa, came to Calgio, and hooked his shoulder very casually.

The Chapter Master of the Sons of Calth felt a little uncomfortable about this, but he also remembered a piece of ridicule Robert Guilliman had about the ways of the Nightborne.

"Absolutely no other Astartes in the Imperium treat each other the way they do."

"There are no secrets between them, only mean ridicule, no blood and tears, only gentle contempt. The bureaucrats of the Ministry of Military Affairs think that the Nightborne are quite like the hive gangsters. What I want to say is that they are wrong."

"The descendants of Konrad Curze simply don't care that much. Although they abide by etiquette and insist on not using honorifics, they have never asked others to use their standards. This is very good, and I think we should learn from it. ”

"Of course, don't imitate each other too much. I don't want to see my Chapter Masters hooking up with each other."

Primarch, I'm sorry, I'm hanging out with Argo Severtarion right now, but he's not your Chapter Master, so it shouldn't matter, right?

"Well, what are you preparing for, instructor?"

While thinking, Calgio heard Yago Savitarion asking this question.

He left his divergent thoughts, restrained his urge to shake his shoulders and shook the hand off his shoulders, and turned his attention to Khalil Lohars.

Calgio had to admit one thing. He had inevitably become extremely curious about this instructor from the Legion era.

First, if what Chapter Master Severtarion said is true, then this is another living figure from the Legion's time.

Second, he is the adoptive father of Conrad Coates.

Robert Guilliman once had adoptive parents. Calgio was familiar with the lives of King Conor and Lady Euton. He naturally wanted to know what kind of person could raise such a great Primarch as the Lord of Blades. character

Half a second later he was astonished.

Khalil Lohars stepped forward, took his hands earnestly, and began to apologize.

"I'm really sorry, Chapter Commander Calgio. The words you heard may have caused some unnecessary trouble. I must tell you that although Yago called me instructor, that was a thing of the past. Now, I'm just a-"

"—He looks very young and very tall." Sevita continued, squinting his eyes and letting out a chuckle.

He turned his head and winked at Calgio.

"Not only that, he is also a very powerful psychic." Saiweita said softly. "I advise you not to make him angry, Calgio, he can do anything when his temper gets angry."

The Chapter Master, who had served for three centuries, looked at him at a loss, then looked back at Khalil, with confusion on his face.

Forty minutes later, he left his office with this confusion, walked into the think tank's station, and took the think tank to the depths of the station, and began to use a complex ritual that was born out of a certain astropath. .

The Sons of Calth have been using this ritual to communicate with the Flair of Macragge since their founding. This time, it is no exception.

They will speak directly to Roboute Guilliman.

——

"Tell me again, who?"

"Khalil Lohars, my lord. His name is Khalil Lohars, and he is the instructor of the Eighth Legion."

Robert Guilliman took a deep breath and leaned back in his chair.

The magic circle engraved in the interior of his study is operating strongly and stably under the auspices of the Astropath Mariel. An Imperial Sky Eagle with blazing flames stands in the center of the magic circle. Under it, the face of the Astropath has already Completely blurred by psychic light.

With her efforts and the help of the magic circle, Hectors Calgio, who was far above Calth, was able to bring his voice to Guilliman's ears. After so much effort, Guiliman Man now has no intention of listening anymore.

All he felt was dizziness.

Then, instinctively, he began to think.

First of all, there is no way Calgio is lying. Not to mention that he had no way of knowing the name, let alone lying, there is no logic in this matter.

Being able to use this formation itself represents Calgio's absolute loyalty, so there is no need for him to lie. So he wasn't lying, but how on earth did he know the name? And he also said key words

"You said he's back?" Robert Guilliman asked softly.

"Yes, my lord, it was said by Yago Severtalion himself. In fact, I also saw the instructor himself."

"Did you see him?!" Guilliman suddenly became excited.

He even jumped up from behind the desk at this moment. The two victorious soldiers who were on guard behind him looked at each other and saw each other's worries through the eagle helmets. Their primarch cared nothing for it, his eyes shining like the light of a forge.

"Yes, I saw it. He's 1.93 meters tall, male, mortal, without any modification."

Guilliman frowned sharply.

"Can you say that again."

"He is 1.93 meters tall. He is a male mortal. He has not undergone any transformation, the original body."

"Are you sure that Iago Severtalion calls him instructor?"

"Yes, Primarch."

"Have your Librarians maintain the ritual, Calgio. I want you to bring Yago Savitarion and Khalil Lohars into the ritual grounds, and then transform the ritual into an image projection. In the meantime, I I want you to be vigilant and ready to fight at any time.”

"Primarch?"

"Do as you are told," Guilliman said firmly.

He walked out of his desk and entered the magic circle. Astropath Marian opened her eyes in the psychic light and looked at her master.

Robert Guilliman's majestic figure was extremely tall and straight, but his face was almost inhuman due to the white light escaping from his eyes. There was a sound like a war drum coming from his chest, and the hands hanging by his sides were glowing slightly.

The temperature in the room continued to rise at this moment, and Marianne was almost out of breath. She even had to send a psychic message to ask Guilliman to calm down a bit.

The changes in the Lord of Macragge are no longer a secret to the people on this ship. In fact, even Guilliman himself doesn't care much about it. He even named a sub-group of the Ultramarines after this secret. .

"I'm sorry, Marianne."

Guilliman took a deep breath and put his hands behind his back. The temperature began to drop, and the heavy voice in his chest began to become lighter, but the light in his eyes remained bright.

Marian bowed her head respectfully and expressed her gratitude. At the same time, she also noticed some subtle changes coming from the other end of the formation. Psychic signals came from the other world and were captured, solved and translated by her.

After this series of complex processes ended, the magic circle began to shine brightly, and the surrounding area suddenly became dark, making it almost impossible to see the five fingers.

Robert Guilliman, however, held his head high and walked forward proudly. Marianne's figure was looming in front of him. Her ancestors had guided him the way for ten thousand years, so he had no worries.

Then, at the end of this darkness, he stepped into another magic circle. He saw Hectors Calgio, the Librarians of the Sons of Calth, and the real Jago Severtarion, and a man in black robes.

"Sevita." He nodded towards Night Blade, but his eyes were fixed on the hooded man.

"Who is this?"

"Don't you recognize him? Or have you forgotten him?" Sevita asked in feigned surprise.

"I will never forget him, but the person I remember is even taller than me - so, who are you?" Guilliman asked majestically.

At this moment, his brows were furrowed, and his god-like handsome face became even more stern under the premature white hair. He looked almost different from the blond son of Macragge thousands of years ago.

In response, the subject of his question slowly removed his hood.

"You're safe, Robert," the man said gently. "It's a pleasure to see you again. My arrival is a bit abrupt. I hope this will not cause any trouble to Chapter Master Calgio and you."

Robert Guilliman was stunned.

"you?"

"It's just rejuvenation, my lord." Sevita chuckled from the side. He received two sidelong glances, one from Khalil and one from Roboute Guilliman.

Guilliman sighed.

Unbelievable, incomprehensible.

He wanted to ask Sevatar to explain to him, but he didn't know how to ask. He wanted to say something, but couldn't.

Reason and sensibility intertwined with each other, making the already deep wrinkles between the Primarch's brows more severe, but it also urged him to finally make up his mind after a few seconds of silence.

"Is that you?"

"It's me," Khalil said. "I know that my current image is somewhat different from your impression, but I was actually like this at the beginning. Did Conrad never tell you about the past?"

"Of course he did, but he never said that you -" Guilliman was talking, but suddenly he was stunned.

He suddenly remembered a gathering ten thousand years ago. At that gathering, Ferrus Manus, Fulgrim, Rogal Dorn and Lorgar Aurelion all told about their relationship with The Emperor's visit to Nostramo.

Guilliman was also present at the time. He wanted to hear the story, but was annoyed by Russ being there. The endless Fenrisians were busy trying to get him to drink, which was annoying him.

Looking back now, in the stories told by those four people, it seems that Khalil Lohars...

Guilliman suddenly smiled bitterly.

He has realized that he made a mistake, and the name of this mistake is preconception. Of course, it can also be said that he fell into the trap of biased cognition, but how could he really connect that person with the person in front of him now?

The former was as tall as Vulkan, and he had a chilling air when he walked. He could defeat the Primarch with his bare hands, and that was only a small part of his exploits.

The latter was only considered tall among mortals. He was clad in black robes, but he was as thin as skin and bones. The skin on his face stuck tightly to his cheekbones, and his cheeks were sunken, as if he had not eaten a decent meal for a long time.

Such an extreme contrast.

"—Okay." Guilliman took another deep breath. "But you. How did you come back?"

"I am still looking for the answer to this question. The only thing that is certain at the moment is that my return is inseparable from those fragments."

"There is also teleportation." Savita added with a smile. "Ah, by the way, sir, we arrived at Calth through the portal created by the instructor."

"Sevatar, you seem to be a little too out of touch today." Guilliman looked at him and said. "Is it because Khalil is back?"

"Is there any?" Sevita asked with an undiminished smile.

"Yes, and it's really obvious. But in my opinion, what you are doing is more like trying to complain to me. So, I will send someone to pick him up and take him to Macragge's Glory, and you will How about we go back to Nostramo first? I can lend you a boat."

"grown ups."

"Um?"

"You have changed." Saiweita said seriously. "How can you learn from us?"

Robert Guilliman broke into laughter, his laughter restrained at first. But when he saw Khalil, the smile turned into laughter. Clean and pure, containing pure joy and pleasure, without any impurities.

He walked towards his friend, his brother's adoptive father. Even though it was just a projection at the moment, he still wanted to shake his hand.

"Welcome back indeed." The Lord of Macragge said sincerely. "It's been too long, Khalil."

"Yes, I know." Khalil raised his head and replied.

Of course he knew.