40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 95 93. Robert Guilliman (4k)

Being trusted by others will, to a certain extent, make some people jump into a cage of paranoia. In the same way, the eyes and expectations of others will also become poison that erodes rationality at some point.

Roboute Guilliman knew both of these things very well.

In fact, if he wanted to, he could even describe them a thousand different ways. He could analyze them using the philosophical thinking methods he learned at the University of Jericho, or he could compose a sonnet to vaguely and ambiguously point out their good and bad qualities.

However, after putting aside these useless details, he actually only had one idea left in his mind.

He couldn't let them down.

Then anxiety and restlessness ensue.

So Robert Guilliman tried to work again.

This is already the thirty-ninth time today. He sat behind his marble desk, straightened his back, and reached for a datapad.

Macragge's civilian reports for the day emerged from the green figures, he read them, mastered them, and began issuing orders. Three minutes later, he heard footsteps outside the corridor. This means that the officials in the Executive Building have received his order and are about to carry it out at this moment.

He relocated his office, which was once King Konnor's study, to the top of the building. This is Macragge's administrative hub, where all political officials work. Although the location has changed, the décor of the office has not.

Everything inside was the way Conor Guilliman once liked it, even the scratches on the wooden floor had not been removed. Apart from some furniture being changed to fit his size, nothing else had changed.

Processing data - to this day, this thing has become almost a kind of instinct for him. He does it well without having to think.

He quickly finished handling today's share of government affairs, and then fell into a burst of indescribable emotions. Unable to restrain himself, he began to think back, to recall the cold feeling, as if he was lying in the ocean and being washed away by the tide.

Suddenly, that huge feeling of oppression came again.

Robert Guilliman closed his eyes and pressed his temples with both hands, trying to ignore it, but he still couldn't do it.

His rational mind screamed, and the parts of his memory about the truth about the Empire were in terrible conflict with the reality he saw with his own eyes.

After a long silence, he sighed and raised his head, intending to take a look at the portraits of his adoptive father and biological father. Moving his eyes upward, what he saw was not the two portraits hanging on the wall, but a pale and gloomy face.

".I didn't hear any sirens." Robert Guilliman said after taking a deep breath.

"Of course," his unexpected visitor replied softly. "I used some means that I shouldn't have used. I'm sorry if I scared you."

Robert Guilliman frowned, then actually laughed.

"Actually, Instructor Khalil, you didn't scare me. Compared with what you showed me five days ago, this sudden appearance is nothing."

Khalil did not answer him immediately, but stared at the slightly haggard Lord of Macragge. After a brief gaze, he smiled slightly.

"That's the truth you asked for," he said. "So, I don't want to be charged with having you trapped in a room for more than five days."

"Don't use honorifics at this time." Guilliman shook his head tiredly. "I take it that my housekeeper has already gone to see you?"

"Yes."

"Please forgive her, Ms. Euton is so stubborn, she still forces me to eat vegetables three times a week. I'm not a picky eater, Khalil, but I don't want to be in the middle of a big dinner." I saw more than three kinds of vegetables on my table.”

He smiled and shook his head, but observed Khalil's reaction from the corner of his eye.

It was interesting that Khalil did not ignore this, and the slightly amusing little story that Robert Guilliman deliberately revealed - he was telling Khalil Ruhals both inside and outside. : Eudon is a lady of extraordinary status.

Can't you speak properly anymore?

Khalil also laughed, but what he said next had nothing to do with Robert Guilliman's previous sentence: "You should be guessing now why I came to you quietly."

Guilliman slowly narrowed his eyes and said calmly: "I will not deny it."

"I won't admit it either."

"Of course, that's what politicians do, and I'm Macragge's biggest politician."

"And the politician with the best heart."

"Being a politician has nothing to do with being a good person, Khalil."

"Do you enjoy this riddle conversation?" his visitor asked softly.

"No."

"Really? But I think you seem to be enjoying it a little bit."

"Because you are the only person who has talked to me in the past five days. I don't enjoy playing riddles, but I enjoy and enjoy every second of talking with someone I respect." Guilliman said frankly. "I have thought many times in the past few days whether someone would push the door and come in. However, let alone pushing the door, they would not even knock on the door. Even the data board and government affairs were quickly passed over there. Sent through the channel.”

He raised his hand and pointed at a long iron-gray metal block on the wall next to him. It was not consistent with the overall style and structure of the study, and could even be said to be a bit abrupt.

"A small sacrifice in efficiency." Guilliman said. He noticed Khalil's gaze and explained it one step ahead. "Sometimes I have to stay in this office all day and all night."

"Is the work so hard?"

"If I simply serve as the leader of the Ultramarines, it's actually not that troublesome. It only takes half a day at most to handle all the affairs of the day, but I am still the ruler elected by Macragge, and people trust me .So I have to do my best.”

"Best." Khalil nodded thoughtfully. "Normally, people do the best they can within their capabilities, but that seems different with you, Roboute Guilliman."

Guilliman raised an eyebrow.

"Finally you don't plan to call me by my honorific anymore." He said half-jokingly. "I didn't quite believe it when Roger told me this."

Khalil smiled slightly, with a gentle face: "Maybe you should believe it, just like you should believe in the truth of the empire."

After this sentence, the atmosphere took a turn for the worse.

".How can I believe again?" Guilliman replied gloomily.

"The Imperial Truth denies superstition, religion and all supernatural forces. Even those things that humans cannot yet understand are only part of objective existence. Sooner or later they will be fully interpreted, fully analyzed and understood. Before that night, I really I believe so, Khalil. But not anymore.”

"Why not?"

With a wry smile, Guilliman shook his head, the laurel crown shining on his forehead: "Because people cannot believe a lie."

"But you can maintain it," Khalil said softly.

"Deceive everyone with lies?"

"White lie."

"It's also a lie, the essence is the same. I can't believe I actually said that."

Guilliman chuckled and leaned back in his chair. Although he was smiling, his face was full of self-deprecation and extreme self-deprecation.

"I am a young and mature politician, maybe even one of the most outstanding politicians in the galaxy. And now I am actually denying a lie that can keep countless people rational?"

"You're not denying it," Khalil said. "You are just trying to convince yourself. This is a common problem for people like you."

"Someone like me?"

"yes."

"Who am I?" Guilliman asked. "If you are going to try to prevaricate me with a long list of titles, please don't open your mouth. Put them aside and I am Robert Guilliman, nothing more."

"And it is Robert Guilliman I am talking about now," Khalil said calmly. “A man torn between one right and another right.”

".correct?"

Guilliman looked at him in confusion, as if he did not understand the meaning of the words that had just come out of Khalil Roharus' mouth.

"Correct?" he repeated, using the most standard High Gothic. "What's right?"

"Correct is the hardest way." Khalil replied softly.

He stood in the shadow of the room. At this moment, it was completely dark.

The curtains in the study were originally closed, but at this moment, they blocked out the few lights. His pale face was looming in the darkness, and paired with his dark eyes, he seemed to be some kind of evil that only existed in legends long ago. incarnation.

Guilliman smiled abruptly, laughing at his inappropriate metaphor.

Evil incarnate. He smiled and shook his head. An incarnation of evil that was patiently enlightening me.

After a moment of silence, Guilliman spoke again.

"Father trusts you very much," he said. "Both Rogge and Fulgrim mentioned this matter. Ferus didn't say it explicitly, but I can see that he also wanted to tell me so. As for Luojia. Well, Khalil, did something happen between you? conflict?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Just a gut feeling."

"There was a conflict," Khalil said. "But it's nothing, it's just a trivial matter and it has been solved."

"I won't ask about the specific situation." Guilliman sighed and made a gesture.

"In short, my father trusts you very much - not only from the descriptions of my brothers, but I can also detect this in many ways. So I am wondering, is it his will that you show me those things?"

"Is this important to you?"

"Not important," Guilliman said. “But it will solve a lot of my problems.”

Khalil looked at him for a moment—stared, to be precise.

Guilliman pursed his lips helplessly. He didn't like the feeling of being stared at by Khalil Roharus.

To put it bluntly, looking at him would make Guilliman feel like he was a garden, while Khalil Roxas was an experienced gardener.

The gardener would wield his shovel and turn up every patch of soil in the garden to see what lay beneath—he might even uncover a few decaying skeletons just a few feet below.

"So, you are not going to get to the bottom of it." After a long digging, Khalil said, his voice as soft as ever.

"maybe."

"Those things. They are poisonous, Roboute Guilliman," the visitor in the darkness said slowly. "They contaminate everyone who sees them, and there is no trace of this contamination, and there are few ways to avoid it."

"The only reason humans are protected from their direct gaze is because someone stole fire. That's all."

"Here's a guy holding a torch and terrorizing them and fighting them again and again in the dark. Sometimes they run away easily, sometimes they don't and he has a hard fight. Think about that, Robert. Isn’t it funny that a man wields a torch and fights monsters in the dark?”

Yes, it's funny.

Guilliman sat up slowly, his expression serious.

"Where did you learn this?" he asked in the softest voice of his life.

His visitor didn't answer. His visitor just extended his right hand, just like that night.

"How?" the visitor asked. "Want to find out?"

Robert Guilliman stood up slowly, his eyes locked on that hand. Pale, slender fingers, tiger's mouth, fingers and palms all covered with calluses. Speculations about weapons and combat quickly entered Guilliman's mind, but he allowed them to slip away.

Now is not the time for analysis, and he doesn't need to analyze this.

"What does this mean?" Guilliman asked calmly.

"Shake hands." Khalil smiled slightly. "An ancient etiquette, originating from Terra. I thought you should know."

"Of course I know - but what I want to ask is, what are the consequences of this?"

"What do you think?"

Guilliman frowned and shook his head angrily: "The time for playing charades has passed, Khalil. I don't want to play these tricks with you now. I just want to know what the consequences will be."

"Hold it." Khalil said calmly, his tone was so calm that there was no hint of urging. "Then you'll know."

The corners of Robert Guilliman's eyes began to twitch, and half a minute later, he thought of Joden's face. After another half minute, he raised his head and glanced at the portraits of his fathers.

Conor Guilliman stared calmly, the Emperor, Lord of Mankind, had his eyes closed, his face pitiful.

Then he held out his hand.

And then—there was a flash of golden light.

——

The night in Macragge was completely different from that in Nostramo, but Khalil was not surprised. Looking at the entire universe, places like Nostramo are rare.

He squatted above the station assigned to the Eighth Army, gently placing his palms against the roof, feeling the remaining warmth that was about to disappear. It's just dark, but it will take some time for the warmth cast by the sun to fade away.

so good.

He lowered his head and closed his eyes. Instead of using psychic energy, he used another kind of warm power.

+He is really good. +

+His excellence has nothing to do with me. +

+Really? If Robert Guilliman knew about this, I'm afraid he wouldn't be very happy. +

+Are you going to tell him? +

+Maybe, if you don't thank me. +

+I thanked you earlier that night, Khalil. +

+I didn't mean that. +

The pale giant opened his eyes and smiled a rare evil smile. He lay back and slowly closed his eyes.

He needed a break.

Stuck, that’s all for today ()