Serious person, who is learning magic in Marvel?

The pungent stench filled the interior of the factory, which was the smell produced after the demons' etheric flesh was burned. The nuns patrolled the corridors vigilantly in groups of three. Under the leadership of Steve, they fought back

After many waves of demon attacks, all we have to do is wait for support to arrive.

Loken walked weakly, and he refused the nuns' support and the offer to rest a little longer. He needed to know the identity of the man - even so, he could only face the Astartes as one now.

He walked at a relatively slow speed. The injuries left by that thing were too terrible, and the poison almost killed half of his life.

Five minutes later, he stepped on the creaking cheap metal floor and arrived at one of the exits of the factory. The man was standing there, and Loken could only see half of his resolute profile.

"Oh, you're here."

Noticing his arrival, the man turned his head and smiled. He stretched out his left hand, and Loken looked at him in confusion: "...Sir?"

"This is called a handshake. You just need to extend your right hand. In my era, this was the most common etiquette." The man explained with a nostalgic smile, and Loken did as he was told. At the same time, he also captured

Here comes a key message in the man's words.

My era. He kept these four words firmly in his heart, feeling that he seemed to have grasped something.

After the simple etiquette was over, the man introduced himself to him: "My name is Steve Rogers, soldier. What's yours?"

"Lord Garviel Loken, you——"

Steve interrupted what he wanted to say: "——Don't worry too much, soldier. We are all just doing our jobs and performing our tasks. We don't need to know too much. What do you think?"

Looking into his blue eyes, Loken nodded. This was good. The other party didn't want to tell him the legion he belonged to, which saved him from telling him about his legion...his former legion.

"So, soldier, what is your mission?" Steve asked.

"Support the Battle Sisters and ensure that the power plant is not captured by the demons."

Steve nodded thoughtfully. Not sure if it was his misunderstanding, Loken felt that for a moment, his eyes turned pure gold.

"So." Steve said softly. "Who gave you the task?"

"...a nun."

Loken didn't know whether the other party would believe what he said, but he could only choose to tell the truth honestly. There was no other way. In wartime, the identity of friendly troops coming for support was usually identified by identifying the identity code, but this gentleman did not have it.

He did this. He didn't know the reason, but just answered.

"She borrowed the body of a dying battle nun trainee to convey the mission to me...but I am absolutely convinced that it is definitely a living saint."

Steve stared at him, and a golden light flashed in his eyes again. This time, Loken could see clearly. He also heard Steve's whisper: "So... it's his power."

Loken remained silent. He didn't think this was something he should get involved in, nor did he think he should ask. Steve didn't mean to explain to him, he just glanced at Loken's empty left arm.

, a strange smile suddenly appeared on his face. Loken felt that he saw nostalgia in it.

"Does the wound still hurt?" Steve asked.

"A little, but it doesn't matter. I can fight at any time, my lord."

"You can put the fighting aside for now. They won't come back in a short time." Steve said very firmly. "But your arm problem needs to be solved immediately. You can't go to the battlefield in this state."

.Tell me, is your left hand your dominant hand?"

"I can wield a sword with either hand, my lord."

"Then, just bear with it a little bit."

After the words fell, Steve raised his right hand. Golden brilliance actually emerged from Loken's body. The beautiful and shocking brilliance was as fascinating as the fragments of starlight. Loken stared at them closely, and his whole body

He was tense, he didn't know what was going on, he even breathed softly, obviously he had realized something.

The light gathered in Steve's hand, condensing into an arm bit by bit. The temperature of the starlight suddenly rose after this, almost turning into the sun. The heat wave hit his face, and Loken actually began to feel palpitations.

In this dazed trance, he heard Steve's voice: "I know how frustrated a warrior is when facing an enemy that cannot be hit or hurt. Just like the demon you faced. Many times

, mortals just lack a means to directly cause harm to them."

He let go of his hand, and the illusory yet solid golden arm began to tremble and rose into the air. The next second, Loken's body seemed to be violently hit by a wild beast. He suddenly stooped down and his eyes widened.

He looked at his left arm. There was severe pain there, and sweat immediately poured out, rolling down from his face, and evaporated before he even hit the ground in the high temperature.

The Astartes have a very high resistance to pain, but that does not mean that they cannot feel pain. Loken let out a suppressed scream from his throat. He could not restrain himself and fell to his knees. He originally wanted to try his best to

The idea of ​​maintaining good manners in front of this adult was in vain, as Gein's new left arm was burning his soul non-stop.

Loken didn't know if this was his hallucination - he felt like there was a fire burning in his body, burning his bones and internal organs. This hallucination was so real that he even heard a crackling sound.

I could smell the special smell produced by burning flesh and blood.

He didn't know how long it took before he calmed down. Panting heavily, the pain faded away and was replaced by incomparable determination. He stared at his left hand, which was burning with flames.

"You can hurt them now, soldier."

Steve smiled and stretched out a hand towards him, pulling Loken up from the ground.

----------------------------------------

"Your Highness, the Martyrs Bridge position sent us a witness report. They witnessed the appearance of a living saint."

"Living Saint?"

Guilliman raised his head from the sand table and liberated his thoughts from the non-stop war deduction. He frowned, and the original body's face actually looked a little haggard: "Have you confirmed the identity of the other party?"

"According to eyewitness reports, he borrowed the body of a novice battle nun, with wings growing on his back. Saint Celestine fits this description. But she usually does not choose to borrow the bodies of nuns."

It doesn't quite look like her, but I can't completely deny it...

Guilliman narrowed his eyes and thought to himself that he had dealt with this living saint. Saint Celestine was present when he was resurrected. As for where she is now, even Guilliman has no way of knowing. After all, the living saint

Only obeying the orders of one person, and that person obviously has his own plan for everything.

Guilliman stood up and began to pace in his study. Hundreds of different conjectures began to boil in his mind, making the original's expression even worse again.

The war game was too tiring, and he had to take care of the mobilization of troops throughout Terra and the resettlement of civilians. He even had to deal with the bureaucrats who were arguing with each other at this time. The empire's corrupt and huge bureaucracy was

At this time, its shortcomings were finally revealed, but Guilliman had no idea of ​​reform.

At least not now.

He sighed and began to worry about why he couldn't directly ask the person who made all the plans behind the scenes - his father, the Lord of Humanity.

"You just don't want to speak clearly, do you?" Guilliman whispered. This sentence obviously frightened the Military Affairs official who had been communicating with him. The other person, like him, had not slept for several days.

Hearing this sentence, he was so frightened that he jumped up on the screen.

"Your Highness, why did you say that?!" the official asked tremblingly.

"...No, I'm not talking to you. You're doing a great job, Dosiris. Go give yourself some rest. You look like a scarecrow. You'll be blown away by the wind.

Fall to the ground."

Guilliman looked at his face. The official sat on the chair with a sallow complexion, and even his shoulders were relaxed. There were tubes and tubes of potions on hand, and he relied on these things to persevere. You know, these

In the sky, all of Guilliman's orders are issued through him, and one can imagine the intensity.

"No, Your Highness, I can still hold on."

He obviously wanted to hold on, but Guilliman sternly rejected him: "Look at yourself! Dedicating yourself to the Empire does not mean wasting your life on meaningless persistence! This is an order, go and rest,

From the Dosiris family, let’s use another person to connect with me, do you understand?”

"Okay, Your Highness."

The official stood up and left. Within a few minutes, a young man who rushed over in a hurry took his place in the chair. He was wearing a straight uniform of the Ministry of Military Affairs. Guilliman could foresee that it would not take long for him to wear this uniform.

The uniform will become messy.

"Your Highness! Salute to you, I am——"

"——There is no need to introduce your identity to me, I know who you are. The youngest son of the Marcis family, right?"

The young man was obviously subdued. After a while, he nodded: "Yes, yes, Your Highness."

Guilliman lowered his head and glanced at the countdown next to the sand table. There were still forty-six hours and fifty-seven minutes until the promised support arrived. He didn't know how long they could hold on. Just now, he received a report. The Ultramarines

They suffered heavy casualties, especially the second company, and Cato Sicarius even fell unconscious.

At that time, the 1st Company had just concluded their mission to support the Imperial Fists Astartes. Marius chose to rendezvous with Sicarius, and then entered the hive again. Not long after reuniting, they encountered each other on the frontal battlefield.

A damn Khorne Warmaster... the kind of thing usually used to fight Titans.

The victory of his heirs made him proud, but it also made him feel uncontrollable sadness. Sitting in this small study, he wanted to join the ground battle more than once, but he was unable to do so because of the constraints imposed on him by his duties.

I have to reject myself again and again.

"Come on..." Guilliman sighed.