40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 80 78. Ultramarines (II, 4k)

Despite having made a lot of preparations and had written a lot of scripts in his mind, Lucretius Corvo still lost the ability to speak when he saw Konrad Curze in person.

He was not as tall as Robert Guilliman, that was obvious. And his thinness could explain part of the reason.

On his pale face were a pair of quiet eyes, dark and dazzling as black agate. He calmly stared at Corvo and the five hundred Ultramarines who entered the banquet hall, standing under the soft light with his hands behind his back, and the silver edges of his evening gown gleamed.

"Good evening, Ultramarines who have come from afar, my brother's descendants, you have worked hard."

He spoke softly, his voice was not loud, but everyone could hear it clearly.

The noble ancient Terra accent was too obvious for Corvo. After all, he was not from Macragge, he was of Terran descent.

Such a classical accent almost made Corvo unbelievable - wasn't this Primarch discovered in Nostramo? Why is his accent so elegant?

"I have heard of your sacrifices, your willingness to leave your Primarch and Legion and travel a long distance to Nostramo. I am deeply grateful for your protection of the future and hope of Nostramo."

The tall, pale, and thin giant, who was so thin that he seemed to be like this, smiled and raised his right hand, making an elegant gesture.

"All the long tables in the banquet hall of the Nightfall are specially designed. Today, one of them will be used only to entertain you."

"I-we are very grateful for your kindness."

Corvo's first word was very high-pitched, but he quickly realized the problem and calmed down his roaring voice.

His adjutant calmly touched Corvo's elbow with his right hand, with just the right amount of force, and a calm complaint was revealed in it. The leader of the Ultramarines continued to speak in annoyance.

"But it would be against the rules if we were the only ones to attend the banquet. The Nightfall is the flagship of our cousins ​​and also your flagship. How can we not let the glorious Eighth Legion participate in a banquet here?"

"If you think their presence will embarrass us, please rest assured that we have cooperated with your descendants many years ago. Those nine victories are still recorded in our history."

"Don't get me wrong, Lucretius Corvo."

The giant frowned.

"My legion is not participating in this dinner because Nostramo is in a state of disrepair and urgently needs manpower. You can rest assured that the only reason they are not participating is because they have a mission, not because I am worried that you will not feel at home because of their participation."

"We have no such intention, my lord!"

Corvo hurriedly denied it, but found that Conrad Curze's brows, which had been relaxed, were frowned again. Although it was only for a moment, the demeanor in that moment almost made his fingers tremble.

Did I say something wrong? What should I do? Guilliman, Lucretius Corvo, you are such a fool.

His self-pity did not last long - in fact, less than half a second. Because Conrad Curze had changed the subject.

"Captain of the First Company." He called solemnly into the darkness. "Has the instructor of the Legion arrived?"

Legion instructor? The Ultramarines looked over in confusion. They had never heard of this position before, and even similar ones were not common.

It was common for veterans to lead new recruits, and the company of new recruits was also a tradition for everyone in the Imperial Astartes Legion.

But, instructor?

What is this title, and who does it refer to?

"Lord Khalil will be here soon, Primarch." A voice sounded in the darkness, low and solemn, but familiar enough to make Corvo breathe a sigh of relief.

He turned around, not bothering to ask the instructor for the time being, and directly talked about the identity of the "Captain of the First Company": "Excuse me, Lord Conrad Curze, is your Captain of the First Company called Van Cleef?"

The giant raised his eyebrows.

"Do you know each other?" he asked softly and curiously. "That's interesting. Have you fought side by side before?"

"Of course!" Corvo nodded quickly, took a step forward, and sincerely raised his right hand to cover his chest.

"If he is really the Van Cleef I remember, then we have been friends for many years!"

Conrad Curze smiled, turned his head and looked into the darkness: "Van Cleef?"

"."

In silence, a person walked out of the darkness reluctantly.

Corvo laughed quickly, and his laughter was full of deliberate haste. He observed Conrad Curze's expression with the corner of his eyes and hurried over.

He intimately took Van Cleef's right hand, first a warm hug and laughter, and then, he took this opportunity to speak in the ear of the captain of the Eighth Legion with a gullet in his throat.

"Please, Van Cleef, help us liven up the atmosphere. I know we had a bad time last time, but you have to admit that we helped a lot on the front battlefield."

After the hug that was about to end, the captain frowned. Although he did not refuse immediately, there was a question in his eyes.

'Live up the atmosphere? What do you want to liven up the atmosphere for? Isn't it normal now? '

And a kind of indifference.

'Unpleasant? Haha'

Lucretius Corvo's heart skipped a beat, but before he had time to react, he heard the voice of the Lord of the Eighth Legion coming from behind him.

"Van Cleef, are you old acquaintances? How lucky you are. In the vast galaxy, a long time has passed, and old friends meet again."

Konrad Coates smiled and nodded: "First Company Commander, I don't think you will participate in the ground mission tonight. How about that?"

The implication was clear.

"."

After a brief silence, the First Company Commander spoke with a reluctance that anyone could hear: "The First Company is on a mission. How can I, as the company commander, attend the banquet? This is against the rules, Primarch."

"That's right." Conrad Coates thought for a moment and apologized with a full face. "It was my fault, Van Cleef—then go ahead."

The first company commander saluted and then hurried away. The leader of the Eighth Legion spoke again after a brief silence, his voice still gentle.

"So, Lucretius Corvo - can you take a seat so we can continue our conversation? I hope you don't mind that the banquet hall is empty. The civilians and staff on the Nightfall have been on the ground for many days. In fact, It is still running normally now, all thanks to our hardworking servitors."

"If they weren't sane, I would have given them medals. Therefore, I hope you don't mind that the dishes to be served are canned food heated and served by the servitors. I'm sorry, but the conditions are really limited. "

He made a little joke.

Yes, Corvo could tell that this was a joke - but when he looked into those dark eyes, he read a deep sadness.

Condolences. He is in mourning.

But to whom?

An almost unbelievable guess came to mind, making Corvo become more serious unconsciously.

"It is an honor to attend this dinner with you."

Lucretius Corvo said.

"Moreover, we are soldiers and Astartes. Under difficult circumstances, even minerals can be eaten raw. Heated canned food is already considered a delicacy, so you don't have to worry about us. ”

"Then I'm relieved. Ah, Khalil."

The pale giant smiled and nodded behind them, with a kind of intimacy in his tone that he didn't even realize: "You're here!"

Lucretius Corvo looked back——

Then he saw another giant.

To be precise, a giant among giants.

Like Konrad Koze, his skin was as pale as a death, and his completely dark eyes were calmer, even a little indifferent, than Konrad Koze's. He stood in front of the open door of the banquet hall, and without doing anything, everyone was almost speechless.

Then he started smiling.

and greetings.

"Good evening, everyone from Macragge." He nodded politely, and his Gothic language was so noble that Corvo almost felt ashamed. "I hope I didn't scare you."

——In just a moment, the fear that emerged from the depths of his bones immediately dissipated. The smile of the giant named Khalil is so gentle that it almost makes people forget his height. Lucretius Corvo couldn't help but open his mouth and began to respond.

"Not scared."

His gaffe lasted for nearly five seconds, and five seconds later, his adjutant coughed in embarrassment.

——

The banquet went very quickly. Nine minutes after they took their seats, the servitors belonging to the Eighth Legion entered the banquet hall carrying various dishes.

The aroma of Glocks canned meat is so obvious, mixed with the smell of the latest flavor, minced meat-flavored Astartes nutritious porridge produced in Macragge.

These are new products, and as soon as they were launched, they were immediately added to this logistics fleet by Robert Guilliman. Therefore, they are a fresh smell even to the Ultramarines.

The most critical point is that Lucretius Corvo also smelled a strong irritating smell. He had never drank them, but he immediately analyzed what they were based on some gossip he had heard in the past.

"It's Fenris' mead." His lieutenant took the lead and whispered. "There are only 40,000 barrels in the warehouse of the logistics fleet. This gentleman is actually willing to use it to entertain us. It is an exciting courtesy."

Lucretius Corvo nodded, and just as he was about to speak in agreement, he saw his adjutant glance over.

"Oh, sir." The adjutant sighed. "But how do you respond to this kindness?"

"What manners? Am I out of shape or am I unbuttoned?"

Corvo retorted angrily. "If you want to say that my performance just now was embarrassing, just say so. Don't mince words like those scholars from the 15th Legion! Do you want to be like them? Use three twists in one sentence to express it?"

"It's so rude of you to discuss other legions behind your back."

".That was just a metaphor!"

"Yes." The adjutant nodded. "Anyway, as the designated commander of the original body, aren't you going to stand up and say a few toasts? Also, don't you want to ask about instructor Khalil's situation?"

"If you want to ask, you ask."

Although Corvo was dissatisfied, he still stood up holding the thick wine glass tailor-made for Astartes. The dark liquid was rolling in it, with a few bubbles popping out from time to time.

It is better to say that it is wine than a kind of poison. Corvo could smell gasoline inside. He thought it might be mixed with blood, but that didn't stop him from using it for tonight's drink.

He raised his glass.

"In the name of Macragge, I, Lucretius Corvo, hereby pay my most sincere respect to you, Lord Conrad Curze, Lord of the Eighth Legion. May the Eighth Legion continue to Achieve a hundred thousand victories, may you be filled with achievements, and may your image be sculpted gloriously on Terra, beside the statue of the Emperor!”

Conrad Coates stood up slowly, with a soft smile on his face that a stranger could not discern his true emotion.

He raised his glass and nodded toward Corvo from the end of the long table.

"Thank you for your wishes, Lucretius Corvo. I salute your legion with the same respect. As for the one hundred thousand victories, if the Eighth Legion can really achieve so many victories, then, I Hopefully the Ultramarines can achieve more.”

He smiled slightly again, raised his head, and drank the strong wine in the glass. Then, he put down his wine glass and spoke slowly again under the grateful eyes of Lucretius Corvo.

"You must have questions." He said firmly. "And this question must be directed at the giant beside me - right, the protectors of Nostramo's hope, the Ultramarines?"

“How can you be so ridiculous?”

Corvo's gratitude quickly turned into an uneasiness. He took a deep breath, ignored the mead churning in his stomach, and said in a deep voice: "We are just performing a mission, but the praise you gave us is too great." Too heavy, yes.”

Under the ghostly look in his lieutenant's eyes, Lucretius Corvo nodded.

"We do have questions about the giant beside you, the instructor of your legion, Master Khalil."

Conrad Coates smiled and nodded without saying a word. Instructor Khalil, who was sitting next to him and chewing Glocks canned meat, shook his head helplessly.

"I'm his," he said slowly, then paused. "Adoptive father."

The Ultramarines' eyes widened.

Conrad Coates also widened his eyes, and a hissing voice jumped out of his throat without thinking: "You, you, what did you say?"

"Don't push yourself too far. Conrad, I can't see the little thought behind you dragging me over to attend this banquet tonight. I want to let your brothers who have never met you get used to it in advance."

Chuckling, Khalil shook his head and slowly stood up.

Let me report that after this chapter is completed, the remaining 30 updates (90,000 words) that I owe will only be 14,000. I will pay it off as soon as possible.

It sold 70,000 to 80,000 copies within four days of its release.