40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 79 77. Ultramarines (I, 3k)

Time will not stop because of anyone's will. It treats everyone equally, even those who have the ability to extend their lifespan by replacing body parts, will also experience its ruthless and fair passage.

They may live longer than ordinary people, but their skin will also wrinkle, and the replaced organs will also age. However, for Conrad Curze, he actually hopes that time can be extended for a moment.

He doesn't ask for much, just hope that one minute can become 180 seconds, so that he can have more time to choose the clothes needed for the meeting.

"Is it a bit too frivolous?" He asked his captain of the first company with a little worry. "This dress, Fulgrim said it is for banquets."

Van Cleef didn't speak at the first time. He looked at the black dress with swallowtail and silver edges inlaid on the edge of the clothes, and coughed: ".It is indeed suitable for banquets, Primarch."

Conrad Curze naturally heard his implication.

"So, what about this one?"

He turned and picked up another one. This shirt had a typical archon temperament, with a high collar, clean lines and a simple and capable style. If Van Cleef were to choose, he would naturally choose this one without hesitation.

However, he was not the protagonist of the meeting in twenty minutes.

And even if he was, there were some things that made him pinch his nose and choose that luxurious dress.

So he just nodded: "It's not suitable for the banquet, Primarch."

".What banquet or not?"

Coze turned his head with a smile. "There will be a meeting in twenty minutes, a conference, Van Cleef. Haven't they already contacted us? You told me this."

"Hmm"

The captain of the first company made a slightly dry murmur from his throat. After a brief silence, he said: "Maybe there is, Primarch."

"Hmm?"

Coze raised his eyebrows and turned his head, looking at Van Cleef inquiringly. After a brief eye contact, the captain of the first company finally gave in and had to speak out some of his speculations and concerns.

"In fact, the situation of the logistics fleet is a bit complicated. In addition to the basic escort fleet, there are also many Ultramarines on it to carry out security work. We don't know the specific situation yet, but we only know that the leader is an officer named Lucretius Corvo."

Coz frowned, he was really confused now.

"Coming here from the Ultramarine, such a long period of security work is not an easy task for anyone. They have worked hard, but people who have traveled a long distance should need hot food and a stable rest. What's the banquet about?"

"No, I mean, the Primarch, they-I mean-in short, uh"

"Just say whatever you want, Van Cleef, do you still have to hide the conversation between you and me?" Curz chuckled helplessly.

The captain of the first company took a deep breath.

"In short, what I want to say is that the Ultramarines may think that banquets are a common thing."

"Common?"

"Yes. Lord Robert Guilliman has a famous saying. He thinks that banquets after victory are as natural as bolter bombs should be accompanied by bolters. In fact, in the several times we cooperated with the Ultramarines, they showed this strong tendency-I mean, after every victory, they have to hold a banquet, and it is the kind of very luxurious banquet that does not allow you to drink to your heart's content."

The long string of words of the first captain who was ready to die made the Lord of the Eighth Legion silent.

This was the first time that Van Cleef spoke so many words in front of him in one breath. For him, this moment should be rare and worth remembering. But now he didn't know whether to write it down.

".Primarch?" The first captain looked at him cautiously. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Konrad Curze said lightly. "I think I'd better decide what clothes I should wear to meet them next."

He inevitably sighed and began to worry about what to do if he really needed to hold a banquet.

Now, there was not even a bottle of beer left in the Nightfall's warehouse.

——

Lucretius Corvo adjusted his clothes with a melancholy face.

He was not wearing power armor, which was as it should be - who would wear armor and carry weapons when meeting a Primarch in peacetime?

Although the noble Primarch had only returned to the Empire not long ago, it did not mean that he should not be respected.

If anyone dared to think so, Corvo would tell him what respect is in the name of Roboute Guilliman.

After all, the Lord of Macragge was very happy to hear of the existence of his new brother. Although he did not say it explicitly, all the Ultramarines could see the change in their gene-father's mood.

In fact, if it were not for Roboute Guilliman's order, Lucretius Corvo would not have gone here with 500 Ultramarines.

Looking in the mirror, he silently recited the name of the planet.

Nostramo.

When looking out of the porthole on the ship, Nostramo was a gloomy planet. Corvo had seen many planets, but this one made a deep impression on him - he had rarely seen a completely gloomy and dark planet.

How can people survive without light?

This question flashed through his mind, and then quickly slipped away.

He adjusted the collar of his clothes for the last time. Now, in the mirror, he looked very solemn.

He had shaved his beard and put on hair oil. The blue turtleneck embroidered with gold threads was solemnly silent on him, and there was an Ultramarines emblem shining on his right shoulder. Looking in the mirror, Corvo gave a stiff smile.

Then the chagrin began—the chagrin inevitably began.

What happened? Why are you so nervous? The Ultramarines and Guilliman are both going to be disgraced by you, Lucretius Corvo! How can you be so nervous? !

He was roaring to himself in his mind, but his face remained calm. But it doesn't matter - or rather, it's no longer a problem for him to worry about.

Because the door to his room has been pushed open. The automatic recognition system of this door broke during the voyage, and since then, anyone has to manually push it open to enter. Accompanied by the low sound of metal clashing, a tired-looking official stood in front of the door.

"Lord Lucretius Corvo." He numbly made an eagle salute, and then raised his right hand, with a stack of documents shaking gently on it. "As per your request, I have sorted the supply list again."

"Thank you, Barraclo."

"It's better not to thank me yet," the official muttered. "Please don't let me attend the dinner party later. Just say that I'm sick. I just want to sleep for twenty-four Terra hours."

Shaking his head, Lucretius Corvo walked to the door and took the stack of documents. He didn't even look at them, but carefully put them into the lining of his jacket.

He wasn't worried about them bending; the document paper produced by the Empire was very hard. In fact, over the years, the Ministry of Government has spent a considerable amount of money on treating hand cuts for newly appointed officials.

"I will inform Lord Conrad Curze." Corvo said in a positive tone.

After saying that, he regretted it and felt that he was being reckless, but Baleclo's bright eyes made it difficult for him to say no again. And, indeed, he could see that the official had reached his limit.

Otherwise, who wouldn't want to admire a Primarch with their own eyes?

"Then, goodbye." Barraclo happily made another aquila salute to him, and then left.

Corvo looked at his retreating back, shook his head, turned around, and walked in the opposite direction to him.

He held his head high and walked calmly in the corridor. His boots made of expensive animal skins shone, and his whole person looked sparkling, but his heart was beating fast.

Five minutes later, he passed through a huge dark arch and arrived at a deck.

His brothers were already there waiting for him. They lined up, each wearing different clothes, but maintaining an obvious regularity, order and harmony. The most crucial thing is that everyone is very consistent with the dress code.

Lucretius Corvo nodded with satisfaction. His adjutant came forward and whispered with an expressionless face and twitching eyes: "Sir, the cuff of your right sleeve is not buttoned."

Corvo was horrified.

He lowered his head, snapped it shut, and then took a deep breath: "Thank you for the reminder."

"You're welcome," the adjutant said expressionlessly. "It's just that I want to know in what formation we should go out and board the Nightfall?"

Corvo did not answer this question for the time being, but asked another question: "Where are the people from the Mechanicus?"

"They have completed the docking an hour ahead of us." Lucretius Corvo's adjutant said. "In fact, while we were busy picking out our clothes, they were already at work. They were cleaning the atmosphere in Nostramo."

"What?!" Corvo was shocked. "Why didn't the priest tell me?"

"Sir, the Empire and the Mechanicus are allies. In theory, he and you are officers of the same level. So why does he report to you?"

"These damn red-robed weirdos"

"Ahem." The adjutant raised his head and said expressionlessly. "Speak carefully, sir."

Lucretius Corvo said nothing more. He just took a deep breath and spoke loudly: "Use the ninth formation, my brothers! Remember, you must not bring shame to our father! Maintain your grace, Stay classy and keep it all you've got to keep!"

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