40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 77 76. The Eighth Legion (11, 4k)

in silence.

Conrad Coates gently twisted a thin piece of paper with the index finger, middle finger and thumb of his right hand.

On the surface, it is not much different from all other similar papers, and the complicated patterns on the edges are sparkling - so, what is so special about it that it deserves to be taken so seriously by the Lord of the Eighth Legion?

"According to the investigation of the Third Company, the five hive cities all have different embryo laboratories. Generally speaking, they still follow the same production model, only differing in details. Production has been urgently Stopped, but there are still a lot of embryos in the culture stage.”

Fer Zalost finished this sentence expressionlessly, with a vague anger flashing across his face, but it was not obvious.

Like most normal people, he can naturally control his emotions - after all, he had already vented his anger once before returning to the Nightshade.

"Cultivation stage?" Conrad Coates asked softly. He controlled his emotions very well, so well that it even made Feier feel anxious from nowhere.

"Yes." He whispered. "There are thirteen thousand two hundred and forty-one in total."

"Human." Curze corrected. "Thirteen thousand two hundred and forty-one."

He leaned back in his chair and breathed calmly.

Paperwork is now very handy for him, and officials who have adapted to his style have begun to work with twice the efficiency. Because of this, the way he sat on this chair almost didn't look like himself.

"Primarch, those machines have been shut down." Fell said in a low voice. "These people have been ripened before they come out of the nutrient tank."

"I know, I have read the report you submitted, otherwise I would not have asked you to come over and interview you about this matter, my third company commander."

With a gentle sigh, Conrad Coates calmly repeated the words on the piece of paper.

"There are three age groups in total, eight, sixteen, and twenty. According to the investigation of the Third Company, eight-year-old children usually have good looks and will be sent to the mansions of nobles. Sixteen-year-old children The body has been adjusted to be thinner, but requires very little nutrition. Adults in their twenties are the strongest and will be sent to some nobles' private training camps."

"I've seen all these things, Phil." Conrad Coates shook his head calmly. "So, what do you think we should do?"

"I have no experience with this kind of thing, Primarch."

Felzalost tried his best to keep his tone calm. "However, according to imperial laws and relevant documents, these people should be properly resettled."

"I think so too, Feir, but here's the problem. It will take fifty days for the properly deployed logistics fleet to arrive, and Nostramo is still in a state of rebuilding social order."

Coz rubbed his brows and did not continue.

He fell silent and did not speak again for a long time. It was clear to Fel that his primarch was thinking - just like him.

Restore social order.

For Fel Zalost, this incident was the most incredible thing he had ever encountered in his long sixty-four-year war career.

In the past, the Eighth Legion was just a judge. They'll kill the bad guys, clear the cancer out of the population, and then they'll go away.

They are irresponsible for everything that follows. Nostramo's current situation was also a first for him. And Nostramo is the home planet of the original body. If nothing unexpected happens, it will also become the new recruiting ground for the Eighth Legion in the future.

No one in the Legion objected to this, especially since everyone knew about Nostramo's adamantine production.

——The Eighth Army does not participate in politics, but that does not mean that they are insensitive to politics.

The more fine gold the better for the empire. What’s more, this is the fine gold from the original body’s home planet.

The profits brought by the duty-free trading routes are astonishing. As soon as the transformation of the logistics fleet is completed, the planet will be able to start trade with those merchants immediately. Nostramo is also close to the Ultramarines, and everyone knows that the Ultramarines are extremely rich.

Feier suddenly bit his back molar.

The Eighth Legion rarely cooperates with their cousins, and the Ultramarines are one of the few that do so, with excellent results. However, no one in the Eighth Legion liked them.

In the words of Siani of the 1st Company, the Ultramarines are a group of people who are extremely proud but are completely unaware of it. And if you bring it up, they will use that damn aristocratic accent to solemnly declare that they are extremely humble. Nasty guy'.

Although Siani's words are terrible, they are also true.

".I have an idea, Phil," Conrad Curze said slowly. "However, I need to ask our instructor for this idea."

"I won't ask what that idea is, original body. But don't you think that the instructor has been a little too busy recently?" Feier asked cautiously.

".It's normal for him to be busy."

The Lord of the Eighth Legion turned his head and stared at his wall, which had neither windows nor any paintings, with a serious expression. "Instructor of the Eighth Legion, what if you don't have to be busy?"

Fair decided not to answer the question.

——

Khalil slowly and calmly put down the training sword in his hand, but Leonard, who was standing opposite him, did not. The captain of the Punishment Blade's hands were shaking at the moment, not because of emotion, but because he had endured too many collisions in a short period of time.

"How?" Khalil asked.

"I can still bear it, instructor."

"Don't lie," Khalil said softly. "Unless you want to try acting with me again."

".I benefited greatly from that operation, my lord."

Khalil smiled.

Benefited a lot? He chuckled and shook his head, not revealing Leonard's remorseful yet stubborn face that night.

That night, more than a week has passed. As the instructor of the Eighth Army with increasing powers and responsibilities, he has been traveling back and forth throughout North with these small teams that are independent of the eight large companies. I’ve been shopping around Tramori quite a few times.

Few people can gain his approval, and few dare to look him in the eye for a long time. That first-night mistake never happened again, but that doesn't mean Khalil is relieved about it.

Those mistakes didn't happen because he acted with them, that's all.

These teams accounted for almost one-third of the Eighth Army, a total of 6,400 people. If we divide them into teams of twenty people, we can even divide them into three hundred and twenty teams. There is no doubt that this is a huge number.

However, not many squads have names.

This organizational form was originally proposed by veterans who had differences in tactical concepts with their brothers. It was only officially confirmed after the company commanders held a meeting and agreed.

At the beginning, there were only eight named squads. As the number of people increased and some recruits joined, the squad increased to twelve.

The Punishment Blade is the most special one among them. It does not recruit new recruits for training like the other eleven squads. Its total number will always remain at twenty. As for the reason, you have to ask Leonard.

Or, in other words, Leonard, the former adjutant of the 1st Company.

"I'd be happy if you really thought so, Leonard," Khalil said.

"This is indeed my true thought." Leonard said solemnly. "Nothing false."

"Maybe." The instructor of the Eighth Legion shook his head noncommittally, stretched out his hand, and opened the door of the iron cage.

After the expansion of the training ground was confirmed, the duel cages were increased to thirteen. Compared with before, these terrible metal cages have also been slightly improved.

For example, there is a biosensor attached to the door of the cage. If neither of the two people inside falls down, only the biosignal of Legion instructor Khalil Lohars can open the door.

In other words, his behavior at the moment also represents a hint.

"...I can still persevere, instructor." Leonard said, unwilling to let his weather-beaten face flicker. "This is far from my limit."

Khalil didn't speak, he just stood calmly by the open iron door and looked at Leonard's hands. His gaze was as sharp as a knife, cutting through Leonard's persistence.

"I understand." He lowered his head and walked out of the cage in silence.

"Next!" Khalil shouted towards the audience. Soon, a man also holding a training sword walked into the cage, but his appearance surprised Khalil.

"Van Cleef, I didn't expect you to come."

"You are an instructor, what's wrong with me coming here to ask for advice?"

Khalil chuckled: "Don't do this, Van Cleef. You just want to talk to me about Leonard."

".He is not worth my troubles, instructor. Leonard is no longer a member of the First Company."

"Really? But I checked, and his name is still among the honorary sergeants of the First Dalian Company. You have not completely eliminated his traces."

"I can't erase his past achievements just because of his current mistakes, instructor."

Van Cleef said very quickly. "Furthermore, Leonard was not kicked out of the First Company. The squad system was the result of discussions among the eight company commanders. We all agreed that this system is necessary."

necessity.

Khalil said nothing. He did not want to expose the false appearance of the system that Van Cleef and the other seven company commanders had painstakingly created for the time being.

The squad that is independent from the company is not so much a discrete tactical group with a high degree of freedom, but rather a disguised expulsion, used to isolate those soldiers who have been dehumanized by the war from the rest of the Eighth Legion.

That's all, what else could it be? Is it possible that someone would really dislike the large number of people in the company and set up a squad system to disperse the original cohesion and combat effectiveness? impossible.

"No use in talking, Van Cleef—are you going to sword-fight to-day?"

"Yes, Sergeant Richter of the Eighth Company said that you have completely mastered and improved his sword skills, so I plan to come and ask for advice."

"His rhetoric is getting more and more exaggerated."

Khalil shook his head, took a step forward, held the sword in one hand in his right hand, and pointed the tip of the sword casually at the ground.

"Come on," he said.

The next second, Van Cleef suddenly waved his hands. Different from Khalil's casual and calm posture, he used a standard two-handed sword starting posture.

The ancient swordsmanship spanned countless years and reappeared in the captain of the Eighth Legion. He quickly rotated his wrist, causing the training sword to spin continuously. The steps are light and strange, like some kind of wild bee waiting to sting the enemy.

Khalil raised his brows, realizing that the first company commander was obviously well prepared.

But this is not enough.

During these days of fighting, both he and his 'students' realized one thing.

Even if Khalil Roharus did not use any strength and reflexes beyond the level of an Astartes, in a simple sword fight, the Astartes of the Eighth Legion would be almost completely unable to gain the upper hand.

Because, in addition to these two things, Khalil also possesses a terrible instinct.

He can attack his opponent in the most terrifying route between the swords, and his opponent will not even realize that he has such a big flaw before being hit.

Richtnar of the Eighth Company was extremely excited about this.

——Yes, not frustrated, but excited.

It had been a long time since he had met an opponent in a pure sword fight, and Khalil was the only person in the Eighth Legion who could arouse his fighting spirit.

Moreover, the most critical point is that Richter knows that Khalil will not use power beyond the scope of a normal Astartes.

For Richter, this is his hope. The prospect of a powerful enemy made his fighting spirit soar.

However, he didn't know that Khalil actually wanted him to win.

He wanted them all to beat him.

"Well done, Van Cleef!" Khalil shouted. "Keep it up, I'm going to attack!"

The first company commander gritted his teeth silently, preparing to face the coming storm. He still rotated his wrist so that the blade formed an airtight wall.

The wind whined loudly, carrying a dull and dangerous melody between the sounds. Van Cleef knew that if he attacked, he wouldn't have much chance of winning, but defense was different. Defense could allow him to——

"boom!"

Along with a muffled sound, there was a burst of pain in Van Cleef's hands. His sword spun and flew out, landing on the ground of the ring. After a few beats, it returned to calm.

what happened?

"It's a good choice to rely on experience, memory and swordsmanship to defend and counterattack, but you shouldn't be distracted by me."

Khalil whispered, patting him on the shoulder. "The enemy on the battlefield doesn't tell you they're about to attack. You shouldn't have listened to me, Van Cleef."

After a long silence, the company commander nodded and said angrily: "I understand, instructor."

Khalil smiled at him, his smile full of approval and encouragement. Unconsciously, the haze caused by the failure dissipated from Van Cleef's heart. He picked up the sword calmly and walked out of the duel cage, only to find their instructor walking out with him.

"That's it for today's sparring session." Khalil said loudly. "Free practice, I will check the progress one by one tomorrow and during the day, especially you, Siani, you have been stuck at step fourteen for two days."

In the corner of the training ground, a sweaty man responded with a dull voice.

"Instructor? You seem to have finished a little early today." Van Cleef asked doubtfully while wiping his sweat.

"Not sooner, Van Cleef."

Khalil shook his head and walked towards the exit of the training room.

Others didn't notice it, but he could tell at a glance that behind the open door of the training room, Conrad Coates was staring.

Kevin, just one update today.

I need to sort it out. I've been getting even more ruthless lately.