Serious person, who is learning magic in Marvel?

Fulgrim ultimately won the bet.

This result may make many people unable to believe it, and even question their own eyes. But the mage who jumped out of the void can indeed pat his chest to ensure that this thing is true.

Fulgrim, the phoenix from Chemos, defeated Jaghatai Khan and Leman Russ in a drinking contest.

Of course, from an image point of view, he is not a winner.

Fulgrim's originally silky long hair became messy at this moment, his cheeks showed an abnormal blush, and his always clean and tidy robes were even full of traces of alcohol - but he was still the last one to sit down.

Even Guilliman collapsed completely a few minutes ago.

The Prince Regent collapsed on the floor, his forehead making close contact with the floor. When he fell, he still held the wine glass in his hand, looking reluctant to let go.

This is what the mage saw after he came back.

"Ah, you're back."

Fulgrim nodded to him gracefully, raised the wine glass in his hand, and took a sip. He smiled and asked, "Do you always control time so accurately?"

"To be honest, I did expect you to finish the banquet, but I didn't expect this result."

With a strange look on his face, He Shenyan raised his legs and stepped over the imageless archangel lying on the ground, and helped him straighten his shining wings: "Your appearance is a bit inconsistent with the identity of the original body... ....”

I don’t know if it was an illusion, but Fulgrim obviously talked much more when he was drunk than when he was sober.

Phoenix smiled again: "Historians and biographers of the empire are trying every means to portray our father and ourselves as omnipotent gods, but we are not at all. Furthermore, the four words "status" are just Made-up words, aren't they?"

He raised his slender neck and drank the remaining wine in the glass. However, this action brought him to a certain critical point.

Fulgrim's eyes widened slightly, and then he immediately plopped down on the table. He only had time to spit out two words: "This wine..."

"What's wrong with the drink? You should finish your sentence, Fulgrim. I hate people who only half-talk. You are making it difficult for me to do this."

He Shenyan muttered to himself, snapped his fingers, communicated his mental power with magic power, and threw out a few simple automatic cleaning spells.

The broom turned into magic swept the ground, and the buckets and rags performed their duties. The empty wine glasses were quickly taken away by them. The banquet hall that did not have windows was also occupied by two people who looked like they appeared in cartoons. White gloves opened two large windows on the wall.

But the scene outside is not a dark vacuum, but a beautiful pastoral scene. Fresh air pours in from there, sweeping away the alcohol inside.

Then, an old man walked straight in from the window. Although the scene outside the window was beautiful, a spring scenery, his face was covered with frost, and even his beard and eyebrows were covered with white frost.

Seeing this appearance, the mage immediately whistled in surprise: "Oh, my God, isn't this the emperor I respect most? How did you get yourself to look like this?"

"...If you are not going to talk to me in Gothic, at least don't deliberately amuse me with this strange translation accent."

The old man tiredly came and sat down opposite He Shenyan, not forgetting to pull Fulgrim twice so that he could roll to the ground and fall asleep soundly.

He Shenyan laughed.

"Glad to see your sense of humor hasn't worn off yet, old man - so, how did you get yourself into this?"

"Isn't this what travelers who travel long distances look like?"

The old man took a wine glass that was placed on the table by someone with his wrinkled hands, shook it, and the heavy feedback made him sigh uncontrollably, and then drank it down in one gulp.

He let out a big sigh of contentment and his face turned rosy.

"Good wine," the old man commented. "But don't let them drink it often."

"You can't control this." The mage shrugged. "At least Russ will drink it once every three days. This is based on the premise that he suppresses himself."

Hearing these words, the old man also looked back at the sleeping Wolf King. The latter was unaware of this gaze, and his snoring even got louder, apparently falling deeper and deeper into sleep.

"...I'll try to get him to restrain himself."

"Huh, let's wait and see." The mage smiled. "As for the long journey you mentioned... Come on, stop doing this. Can a long journey make you look like this? You are in the subspace again.

Whose trap did you fall into?"

Before the old man could answer, the mage raised a finger: "First rule out Khorne."

"You can indeed exclude him. He is currently busy trying to convert the group of orcs you sent there." The old man coughed. "But... it's not a trap, it's the subspace itself that is repelling me.

It instinctively refuses anything that would benefit me."

"Ah, it's this thing again."

The mage spread his hands and said that he was helpless: "I said it last time -"

"——Yes, yes, you said the consequences and risks of my doing this, including the reasons why the subspace has always rejected me... But I must do it."

The old man sighed, his weather-beaten face faded away, and his figure gradually grew taller, replaced by a Eurasian barbarian with a laurel crown on his head and a sad face.

"Those things in the Webway are trying to break out every day. Various threats are imminent. I can't even get the Imperial Guards to disperse to assist in the reconstruction of Terra. So far, the progress of four agricultural bases has stagnated, and the land

The recovery was really difficult.”

The emperor pursed his lips and said: "And you - although you will not be rejected by the subspace, this is the reason why I will never let you take on this responsibility for me."

"They can't corrupt me."

"They can't." The Emperor shook his head. "But subspace can."

He Shenyan was not in the mood to argue with him at this time. Seeing his persistence, the mage could only shrug and skip the topic.

"Maybe," he said. "So, what do you think after seeing such a human side of your sons?"

The emperor did not answer, but just let out a long sigh, which seemed as long as ten thousand years. Endless regret and guilt were contained in it, but in the end, no one could hear it.

In the end, he can only keep his guilt to himself.

"This is how they should have been," the Emperor said calmly. "If everything had not been destroyed..."