Serious person, who is learning magic in Marvel?

If possible, Guilliman would not want to deal with the Black Templars.

From the bottom of his heart, he did not want to interact with a group of religious lunatics who were extremely fanatical, but the problem was that reality did not allow him to be picky.

The reality is so cruel.

No one knows how angry Guilliman was when he learned that the Black Templars had wiped out all the civilians on a planet because of the presence of psykers on that planet, and no one knew why he made this decision.

The Ultramarines were quite puzzled by this, and Everene was also worried about the reputation of the Black Templar. She was afraid that her compatriots would act irrationally because they were angry with them, so she gave her instructions very carefully.

After a while.

And in front of Sicarius.

But the second company commander was not dissatisfied for two reasons. First, he had long been accustomed to treating Eveleni's existence as nothing. Second, he was actually worried about this matter.

Sicarius knew very well how stubborn the Black Templars' beliefs were.

In fact, the Ultramarines don't have a very good impression of them. The reason is that more than once they have killed all civilians on an entire planet because of the slightest sign of a psyker.

Moreover, Sicarius did not think that his original body would not be aware of this matter - since the original body was aware of this matter, would it be a test for him to issue this order?

Politics is dirty, but politics is also necessary. Sicarius understands that if the Black Templars are stubborn and still stubbornly want to put their faith in front of orders, then some things may happen without resistance.

Back to the topic. This Black Templar expeditionary force with a relatively special composition will not set off immediately. The reason is that the Supreme Marshal of the Black Templars has not yet arrived at Macragge's Glory, and he does not know Guilliman's plan at all.

Although they had already been scattered throughout the galaxy during their ten thousand-year never-ending crusade, many Black Templar warriors suffered misfortune when the Great Rift opened.

At that time, many troops in the expeditionary force were in subspace transportation. They were thrown several light years away from their original orbit by the violent subspace turmoil that followed, and suffered extremely serious losses.

And their Supreme Marshal, the Chapter Master, had no reaction at all.

He had no reaction, because he felt that this was the best test for their faith. If they could survive it, then they would prove that they were the most devout believers of the God Emperor.

When Guilliman's orders arrived aboard the Grand Admiral's ship, the Eternal Crusade, his top priority was still figuring out how to find the Bonecrusher.

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

"Come again!"

Steve didn't know how many times this was the first time he heard this sentence from Frank. He smiled, wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, and straightened his posture again.

A fierce jab hit his chin. Steve turned his head slightly to avoid the blow, and responded with a left hook.

This punch hit Frank firmly on the side of the face. The Punisher took a step back indifferently, and then launched an even more fierce attack.

They have been sparring with each other for more than seven hours. No, maybe it shouldn't be called sparring. For them, boxing is just a joke and not serious at all.

——Of course, this is true for them, but not for Pedro Cantor on the side.

The Chapter Master of the Crimson Fist Chapter watched the two men beating each other in the ring with a grimace, looking as depressed as an ascetic monk.

It was true that it was a very precious opportunity to see the two primarchs fighting against each other, but he couldn't learn anything at all - the strength and speed of the two were far beyond his, and he couldn't learn even if he wanted to. Pei

There was no way DeRo could throw a jab that fast.

Furthermore, he was really, really afraid that they would start a real firefight.

Frank and Steve fought hard, but in Pedro's eyes, they were going all out. Every punch made a dull echo, and every time they moved and stepped on the metal ring, the ground made a huge sound.

He was afraid that one of the two would accidentally get into trouble. In that case, what would he do?

Fortunately, Pedro's nightmare did not last long. Thirty minutes later, Frank was the first to stop.

"I lost." He said. "You hit me with 1,200 punches, captain, and I got 132 punches less than you."

Steve raised his eyebrows in surprise: "Do you still remember these?"

"Although it's just sparring, I think a proper sense of victory and defeat is also the key to improving yourself."

Frank nodded to him, took off his boxing gloves, took off his mouth guard, and untied the bandage on his hand. A series of actions were done in an orderly manner. There was no trace of his appearance after high-intensity exercise.

Steve did the same. He smiled, took off the equipment, and said, "There's no need to be so serious, Frank."

As he said that, he pointed at Pedro Canto, who was watching under the ring, and said jokingly: "Look, Pedro looks so nervous down there."

"...This, sir." Pedro immediately cleared his throat and acted as if nothing happened. "I'm not nervous, I'm just watching your battle seriously."

"Don't do this, Pedro. Your worry is written all over your face. Are you afraid that Frank and I will have a real fight?"

Steve shook his head in amusement, leaned on the thick rope at the edge of the ring and said casually: "This kind of thing won't happen, don't worry."

Frank nodded in agreement, threw the equipment on the ring floor and left first. His schedule was very full, and he had to go to Bonavia's room today. The female inquisitor needed his help with something.

It didn't take him long to arrive at her room. The room Bonavia was assigned was located on the middle floor of the ship. It was not big, but it was definitely enough for one person. It was equipped with a separate bathroom, and there was another room that you could choose freely.

Food making machine.

So, the conditions are quite good.

Standing in front of the door, he raised his hand without saying a word, and tapped the door several times rhythmically with the index finger and thumb of his right hand. The voice of the female judge came from inside the door: "Please wait a moment."

Frank took a step back silently, and the door opened just in time. Bonavia, wearing a training shirt, opened the door, and her metallic right hand completely disappeared from her wrist, as did her right eye, eyeball

Disappeared, nanomachines were surging beside it, repairing themselves.

"Ah, you're here." She was surprised and made way for Frank to come in. "I thought you would be late today."

"I won't miss the agreed time."

Frank nodded to her, walked to a wooden table, and picked up the repair knife transformed from the palm of Bonavia's right hand. The nanomachine buzzed and passed the identity verification. Frank waved to her and signaled her

Come to yourself.

Nanomachines are good for everything and can provide various conveniences to Bonavia.

For example, the right side of her face now possesses extremely terrifying defensive capabilities, and can even withstand explosive bombs at close range - of course, if she really did that, the impact of the explosive bomb would break her neck.

There is also the right eye. This eye is now capable of night vision, magnification, sensing wind speed and wind direction, and a series of functions that only high-precision sniper scopes can have. It can even pop out the eyeball and throw it as a miniature bomb when necessary.

However, everything has its price. Nanomachines need maintenance every forty days. If formal maintenance and repair cannot be carried out on the space station, then Bonavia needs to do it herself. The effect is much worse, but it is always

Better than nothing.

However, her skills are obviously not as good as Frank's. A pair of steady hands can not only be used for killing, but also for maintaining machinery.

"What did Crane say?"

Frank asked during a maintenance break.

"Lord Crane is traveling to Terra Station with a Chapter known as the Emperor's Swords."

"He's coming with us... Does he have any new tasks for me?"

"No." Bonavia shrugged. "I asked, but Lord Crane just asked us to wait."

"snort......"

With a slight grunt, Frank used the repair knife to scratch the nanomachines to remove them from Bonavia's eye sockets, then squinted his eyes and carefully observed the engine oil dripping from the inside of her eye sockets and the exposed replacement nerves.

After a few seconds, he concluded: "You have to pay attention to the daily use of the prosthetic eye. If you continue to overload the prosthetic eye, this thing will explode."

"That's easy for you to say."

The female inquisitor said helplessly: "You are not the one who needs to record everything - overloading the prosthetic eye is not what I want to do."

"I don't understand." Frank frowned. "Klan really needs each of you to record everything you experience with your prosthetic eyes?"

He originally expected Bonavia to nod, but unexpectedly she said: "Of course it is necessary. The main reason why there is such horrific corruption within the Inquisition is that we, the Inquisitors, have no supervision."

She said solemnly: "We are watchmen, watchers, and judges - we are the court and can judge anyone without permission. But the question is, who will judge us? Only we know what we have done.

Excessive power will only bring about corruption. From this point of view, Lord Crane’s request is very legitimate and necessary.”

"Oh, I hope he can see it."

Frank made a cold laugh: "Thirteen hundred former inquisitors who are out and about, looking at each one one by one, when will he go?"

"It's better to focus on maintenance first, what do you think?"

Bonavia suggested boldly: "Please move the repair knife to the left... there is a small problem with a replacement nerve."

"I can see that."

Frank interrupted her impatiently: "Shut up, stop talking. Oil drips from your eye sockets when you talk - hell, is this tissue fluid?"

He pursed his lips and began to understand deeply why most surgeons had weird personalities.

At the same time, on the other side of the spacecraft, Steve was having a conversation with Pedro Cantor.

"Sir, according to the pattern calculation, we still need forty-seven Terra standards to reach the Terra space station."

"This is a good thing...Why do you look so sad?"

Pedro Cantor said bitterly: "Well, the number of our chapter is slightly insufficient, my lord."

"If you want to recruit soldiers, just say so, Pedro. There is no need to hide it from me."

Steve patted him on the shoulder funny, walked around the corner and came to a drink vending machine.

There are several Crimson Fist warriors queuing up here. These new things from the formation are unexpectedly very popular among these rock-solid Sons of Dorne. Their favorite drink is pure bitter coffee without any sugar.

, the kind that is twice as bitter.

Seeing their chapter leader and Steve approaching, they immediately stopped talking, straightened their backs, and looked away, showing an exemplary manner.

"Stop pretending, you guys..." Pedro said helplessly. "You can drink if you want. There is no shame in taking a break."

They stood at the back of the team, and Pedro continued: "I do have considerations in this regard, but do you think Lord Guilliman will allow it? I mean, our numbers are not dangerously low yet...

..."

"You have to ask him about this, what role do I have? I don't have the right to directly assign you a recruiting planet - but I can apply for you to see if I can assign you a new fortress monastery.

Or something like a home flagship."

"What--?!"

Pedro, who realized that his voice was too loud, glared at the Crimson Fists who turned around, then suppressed his joy and tried to look calm and calm: "This, this is also possible.

Did you say that, my lord?"

"The losses you suffered in your home world are obvious to all, Pedro. Your tenacity is also obvious to all. Without relying on any reinforcements, you drove those orcs out of the world of Ryan by yourself. I think there must be rewards for warriors.

.”

Steve smiled and said: "What's more, you helped me, didn't you?"

"This is just a matter of duty, sir!" Pedro straightened his chest and said loudly without looking away.

"Okay, okay...please keep your voice down. You are truly the Chapter Leader of the Crimson Fist. You are exactly the same."

Arriving in front of the drink vending machine, Steve thought for a moment and slid his fingers across the panel. He frowned. Most of these drinks were traceable and were not much different from those in his memory. It was obvious that they were

It is He's handiwork, and I don't know what he is studying every day.

Except for a series of carbonated drinks such as Coca-Cola, he didn't have many options to choose from. After thinking about it again and again, Steve's choice was...a cup of hot water.

Well, a cup of hot water.

He held the hot water and walked to the porthole at the next corner. On the surface, he was calm and relaxed, but in fact, he was already looking forward to meeting Guilliman. To be precise, it was the mission he would receive after meeting Guilliman.

The familiar feeling came back, and this feeling of being in the military made him feel more familiar. Steve couldn't help but smile.