Warhammer 40k: Shattered Steel Soul

"I don't understand." Morse said, amidst the sound of gunfire coming from behind him, he flicked his fingers, and the flowing golden runes removed the sticky dirt on the black cloth. "How did you do it?" "

"I don't know!" Magnus sat dejectedly on his huge soft sofa, his hands in front of his face, keeping a certain distance away from his hair and face. Before he could wash his hands, some damp flour still clung to his palms.

As the sound of cannons stopped, Perturabo walked out of the giant kitchen that Malcador had somehow made for them, and closed the door to hide the charred mess behind the door that had been blasted by an energy weapon.

"How did you do it, Magnus?" The Iron Lord threw down the hand cannon and protective helmet, frowned and asked the exact same question as Morse.

Morse laughed, and Magnus flopped onto his back on the couch. Perturabo looked inexplicably at the two people with strange reactions, and decided to ignore Morse.

He sat down next to Magnus. "What spell did you cast on the flour?"

"It's just an amplification spell, used to enlarge the dough." Magnus sighed deeply, as if he wanted to spit out the fatigue of the day. "Russ insisted last night that Fenrisian bread tasted better than Prospero's. I want to prove him wrong. How can the hard bread in the ice and snow be as soft and chewy as our scones..."

“But two mysterious mealworms appeared in the fermented dough without your knowledge, and were amplified by your spell to fill half the kitchen, and gained strange psychic resistance.

Perturabo's words made Magnus sigh feebly, and after the former finished speaking, he stood up and washed his hands.

"Leaving aside the fact that you used the wrong amplification rune to cause this result, I'm more curious about where you got the flour." Morse said. "Outside the palace?"

"Yes." Magnus admitted slowly, "I didn't want to trouble Macha one more time, so I went to buy flour from the mountain after shrinking into a mortal."

"Then it's a blessing that the flour you bought contains only insect eggs. By the way, I think repairing the palace will be more challenging for Machado than getting a bag of flour."

Magnus wanted to bury his head in the ground. "I'm sorry," he said.

Morse found a place to sit down, rubbed his fingers, and all the damaged things in the kitchen began to recover, and soon they were restored to their original appearance as if they were traveling back in time.

Magnus looked up, trying to discern the combination of Morse's spell. It's true that he's learning all the time.

Perturabo came back from outside, washing his hands and drying them. He glanced into the kitchen and said, "Now you can go to Machado and ask for a bag of high-quality flour specially provided by the palace."

"Oh, it's too late," Morse said. "That's what I came to tell you about. The Wolf King has left Terra."

Both Primarchs stared at Morse in surprise, and even Perturabo raised his eyebrows somewhat.

Magnus asked blankly: “But we haven’t officially said goodbye to him yet.

"How come Horus didn't see you so active when he left?" Morse asked. Magnus sheepishly tried to touch his head, but was stopped by the flour on his hands.

Perturabo wanted to say that considering Horus's enthusiasm for participating in the Great Crusade, there was no need for the First Returned Son to be reluctant to leave Terra - although he wanted to ask Mors more. Why do I always seem to pay special attention to the condition of Horus Luperkar?

But in the end, he didn't ask either question.

"For Leman Russ, a farewell dinner is the best way to say goodbye." Morse said, "He obviously feels that last night's banquet is equivalent to a farewell message."

Then Mors stood up, walked over to Magnus, and looked at the arm of the sofa. Between sitting on the armrest and standing shorter, he chose to continue standing.

The man in black robe stretched out his hand and patted the red original body heavily on the shoulder. "In addition, he asked me to tell you that there is no need to send your Thousand Dust Sun among the Space Wolves. To put it simply, he avoided you and ran away in advance."

"Huh?" Magnus made a confused sound, "I just want my heirs to exchange fighting styles with them."

"And steal tactics?" Morse asked.

Perturabo smiled: "How do I remember that the reason you gave at the beginning was to supervise their use of psychic powers?"

Magnus shook his head in annoyance. "Exchange and learn!"

"I won't comment on whether Leman Russ's legion needs this supervision." Mors let go of Magnus, "But do you know what this means?"

"What?" Magnus asked curiously.

"It means the Space Wolves have secrets that they don't want others to know." Perturabo quickly answered. "Just as I now come to regret introducing Morse to my Legion. Do you know what the secret is?"

"Oh, I know." Morse said, "A problem related to the fundamental survival of the Legion. Considering the attack power and uncontrollable degree of his current soldiers, this is probably not a distrust of you, but just to protect you. Heir - what does it mean to regret introducing me to the Legion?"

His reminder restored the hurt emotion in Magnus's eyes, and the red giant resumed his introspection that had been blocked by sadness.

"Well, Russ doesn't think I'm spying on their legion's secrets, right?" Magnus' voice was trembling.

"Ruth can't," Perturabo said. "His understanding of things has always been clear and precise. Neither can I. The Iron Warriors have no secrets."

"Horus will accept your request for exchange, and may even readily accept your supervision, if you can convince him that it would be of sufficient benefit to the Emperor."

"But that won't be the case for other brothers in the future, right?" Magnus mused, and the lines on his face gradually became serious, "From various angles, I still think it is necessary to monitor the strength of each legion in the future. There are restrictions on the use of psychic powers, but either everyone does it or none of them do it...Yes, it is not a good thing to ignore the legions of several brothers..."

"Ask the Emperor." Morse decisively stopped Magnus's self-questioning. "Let him send an official document or hold a conference and the problem will be solved."

"Yes!" Magnus couldn't help but raise his voice, and then awkwardly lowered his voice to a normal level. He was fortunate that the other two people present did not look at him in surprise.

"When I write a report on this matter, I will go to the Emperor." Magnus said, "And I have to find out the cause of today's incident, so that I can publish it in our Ten Academy Magazine Post a special topic - or I will post the question and let my descendants conduct enlightening research."

"Come on, Primarch." Mors said, turning and leaving. "I'll go tell Malcador that nothing happened here."

Magnus finally stood up to wash his hands after Morse disappeared from his range of perception.

Perturabo called to him.

"What makes the sadness on your face not clear, brother?" The Lord of Iron put his arms on the top of the back of the sofa and raised his head and asked, "I have always been extremely sensitive to other people's emotions for many years. This used to be my Character flaws are now considered positive traits.”

Magnus shook his head: "Next time before Russ leaves for a long journey, I must formally say goodbye to him."

He looked through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows to the stormy gray sky at the end of the vast hive.

"He deserves higher etiquette," Magnus said. "Leman Russ deserves more respect."

"Then correct it next time," answered Perturabo. "We always meet again in Terra."