Warhammer 40k: Shattered Steel Soul

Of all the rulers of Macragge, Robert Guilliman is undoubtedly and will always be the most special. His story gives people the impression that it is just like the truth of the empire. It seems to be simple and unmistakable, but if you look closely at its connotations, it contains many connotative brilliance and ulterior shadows. Konrad Curze, the Lord of the Eighth Legion, once commented that Macragge's efforts have been rewarded in equal measure. This may be the simplest answer to all questions. ——"Robert Guilliman: The Eternal Second Star Torch"

Are the changes in the upper-level political situation related to ordinary farmers like them? Jura didn't know.

She leaned against the porch and wiped the sweat from her brow, rocked the baby wrapped in a thick scarf in her arms, and sang to the baby a tune that came to her mind.

Macragge City stood among the rocks in the distance, and the rumbling echoes of the war in the past few days still echoed throughout the farmland under the blue sky. Or was it just the sound of waterwheels and mills running round and round, plus the rustling echo of the wind suddenly blowing through the vast green wheat fields? Jura thought idly, pulled up a wooden stool and sat down.

Her eldest son was originally a craftsman. Like his father, although he didn't have much interest, he was good at fitting pieces of wood together to assemble things that were indispensable in daily life. This stool was what the father and son left for her when they were called to serve as soldiers under Robert Guilliman this year.

She doesn't want those paper letters, gold, silver and jewelry, they are useless. She wants this solid wooden stool. After she is tired from tending the wheat fields, as long as she has a place to sit down, she will feel that her life is still stable. of.

She secretly felt that political changes had some relevance to ordinary people like them—it should not have existed originally, but Robert Guilliman was different, so different.

She couldn't say whether it was good or bad. After all, she had never seen the newly appointed young ruler with her own eyes. He was only in his teens? So young. But Jula couldn't fault what he did.

Half of her barley field was land that was once owned but had been abandoned. The power grid and the sign prohibiting farming allowed weeds to crawl out of the cracks in the soil year after year. She remembered that it was Robert Guilliman's men who took down the sign, called her out, and thrust a piece of paper marking the land ownership into her hand.

"Where will you be when you are a teenager?" she said to the baby.

Suddenly, she heard a sound like wheels rolling in the countryside. This was unusual. If she wanted to visit the families she frequented, she would often walk over on a pair of sandals without the need for transportation... Could it be her husband and son?

By the way, Macragge's battle is over, and they might have time to go home.

No matter what, Zhu La returned to the house with her child in her arms, smoothed her neat blond hair, took out a long, shiny knife from the cabinet, carefully turned it over in her hand, and prepared for any sudden attack. Accidents that require self-defense. She is very proficient in using knives, so this caution is not because she is afraid of cutting herself - she has not been injured by the sword in her hand since she was nine years old. She was just worried about scaring the baby who hadn't woken up yet.

The dull thunderous sound of wheels came closer, and Jura saw that it was a transport truck manufactured in Macragge's military factory. The model was newer than Jura could recognize.

She turned off the light, closed the curtains, calmed down, and looked out through the cracks in the curtains.

The transport truck went in circles, following the paved road between farmland and farmland, driving and stopping for a while, as if it was sightseeing.

It wasn't long before the roads became unsuitable for military vehicles unless they were willing to grind through fields. The people in the car descended to the ground and moved forward on foot. Zhu La looked sideways for a while and found that those people were not even stepping on the fields, so he put down his long knife.

A few minutes later, several people approached the only house in the area.

Jura rubbed her eyes and took a breath of surprise - she was right, these people, one, two... a total of four visitors, were all extremely tall giants, showing extraordinary nobility and vitality in their every move. Even if they are wearing a light, plain gold-edged robe, there is still an endless sense of power projected into the world from every wave of their hands and their feet.

Jura's heart beat rapidly. She gently put the baby back into his wooden bed and soft quilt, and hurried to the door.

Robert Guilliman, and his rumored brothers! Of course, who else in the world has such amazing courage and irresistible beauty, like a flawless model, exuding such profound superhuman attraction? How many people have never met these otherworldly creatures throughout their lives, and four of them appeared in front of her!

She looked back at her house, and regretfully found that the small hut could never accommodate four giants who were perhaps four meters tall, so she jumped lightly onto the field ridge and approached the giants.

But when he really got close to them, Jura flinched and secretly scorned himself: The consul and his family are here for an outing, why are you going to join in the fun? She even regretted not learning painting from her father back then, and now she couldn't even record this rare scene.

The blond giant at the head is their archon. Jura had seen him several times in brochures, and now that she saw him in person, she realized that Robert Guilliman was much more likeable than in the brochures.

This is not to say that the printed leaflets did not completely print the giant's face. What was really lacking in those leaflets was the infinite energy and vitality in Robert Guilliman that Jura had never seen before. His blue eyes looked at the wheat field. Overflowing with a deep affection and approval, it feels more vast and selfless than the clearest sky. Despite his huge stature, the clear-cut face makes people feel neither the perfection of a statue nor the ruthlessness of a sharp blade, but rather a persistence and sincerity that can even be regarded as slightly incongruous.

Jura dared to say that Robert Guilliman was more alive and vivid than any man she had ever met. She never thought that these cherishable qualities would appear in a supreme archon.

As for the other three giants behind the blond giant, the one with black hair is extremely majestic and oppressive, while the white-haired giant is like a cold, stable stone. Although the last one is particularly strong, it does not seem to be a big one. Inaccessible... Roboute Guilliman saw Jura before she could describe them seriously.

"Madam," the consul called to her, "you are listed in the register as the owner of the land here. Do you mind chatting with us?"

His voice was as young and powerful as himself, less programmed and more cordial than the one on the radio. To put it in a disrespectful way, it always reminded Jura of her own children - well, they were all descendants of Macragge, so why not?

Zhu La responded: "Sir, what do you want to know?"

"There is a lot I want to know." Robert Guilliman lowered his head and lowered his voice with just the right amount of force, expertly controlling the volume within the range that a mortal can adapt to. "For example, I am preparing to lay railway tracks here, but the track We'll have to go through some fields in a week and we'll have an official poll, but I'd also like to ask in advance, what's your opinion on this?"

"Our family must be in favor, sir." Zhula replied readily, "But you need to pay more attention to the Gru family. They are a stubborn family. To persuade them, you have to let officials with good eloquence go."

"Okay, we will remember it. Also, how does the wheat sales volume in this area compare to previous years?"

"There has been little rain this year, and the new fields approved by adults for our family have not been harvested yet, so the harvest is worse than before. However, we sold a lot and the price is reasonable. Overall, it is better than last year. I was originally worried about the children at home. I will save some money on toys and snacks next year, but once I settle the account this year, I will be able to buy two more sets of clothes for the child next year." Jula mentally calculated the drachma earned this year, and the smile on his face became more genuine.

"It is consistent with the calculation," said the black-haired giant behind Guilliman. "The increase in the demand curve for supplies after the Ultramarines entered has exceeded the input of agricultural product market supplies brought by the joining of several agricultural worlds in Ultramar to Macragge. "

"The price your quartermaster came to purchase was higher than the market price," Jura said. "Sir, I almost thought they had remembered the price wrong."

"You deserve it, citizen," Guilliman said, his eyes seeming proud as he looked at his brothers. "Macragge will not do wrong to any of her children."

Jura pursed her lips and smiled, shaking her head.

"My lord, please don't blame me for speaking frankly. The Consul before Consul Conor Guilliman spoke more beautifully than you when he was campaigning. Each policy became bolder and bolder, and each of the previous shortcomings was engraved on it. The slate was scratched out, and the slate hung empty on the pedestal of the War King statue at the city gate for several months. When he came to power, none of his promises were fulfilled, but there were only a few empty documents. "

"But you and Archon Connaught do nothing in vain. Every slogan is followed by a decree. I often think that if you had come to Macragge earlier, perhaps the development of this planet would be even better. ”

Guilliman smiled and accepted Jura's praise.

He then asked a few more questions about life, some of which were so trivial that Jura herself didn't pay much attention to them. When Guilliman mentioned them, she realized that these trivial matters were an indispensable aspect of citizen life. She was not afraid and spoke out about everything, trying her best to organize her opinions and those of many people in the area into the most suitable way to report to the Archon.

In this exchange, which was neither long nor short, Robert Guilliman's three brothers often joined in, sometimes providing supplements and support for Guilliman's words, and sometimes coming up with some new questions. From time to time, Jura felt surprised that she could discuss Macragge's political affairs with four giants. She had never thought about this incredible scene for many years.

What woke her up was the crying of a child in the room. She calculated the time subconsciously and it seemed that the child's nap time had just passed. Jura pulled away from this dreamlike opportunity and looked awkwardly toward her home.

"We are leaving too, Lady Jura." Guilliman noticed the change in Jura's demeanor. "We still have many areas to visit this week. We wish to say goodbye to you, citizen."

"Wait a minute," Jura took a breath and summoned up the courage, "my husband and son are serving in your army this year, please ask them..."

"Macragge respects every victim, madam. We never fail to send death notices." Guilliman smiled, "It has been a few days since the Gallan Rebellion. I thought since you have this question..."

"They're safe and sound," Jura blurted out, immediately relaxing. "I knew they always had good luck..."

"It's not that good, ma'am. In the army, they often participated in some innocuous little gambling games, and were deceived by a new recruit Manicino out of half of their income. We are inventorying Manichino's property and preparing to transfer the money he earned. The remaining portion will be returned to all the deceived warriors."

"Don't pay it back!" Even in front of the consul, Jura could barely control his temper. "Let them improve their memory!"

"It doesn't matter, we can send the money directly to your home." Guilliman nodded calmly and agreed, "I also have one last question to ask."

"Speak, my lord," Jura said softly.

"Ms. Jura, the previous consul has been dead for many years, and the banishment resolution imposed since your father's generation has expired in Macragge's law. Now the Senate Council is in a period of reform and revival. If you are willing to inherit the title , return to Macragge and get a seat in the council chamber. What do you think?"

The Archon asked in a deep voice.

"What does politics have to do with us ordinary peasants, Lord Guilliman?" Jura bowed and said, "Farewell to you, respected Archon."

Guilliman looked at her deeply and left with several brothers.

Jula turned around and walked quickly towards her home.

This house was built by her husband and her. Every brick and tile was built by two people noisily discussing it together. There was a carpenter's hand saw on the fireplace, and three fishing poles were placed against the wardrobe. Used long wooden pole. In her desk drawer are several short articles she has written recently. In a few days, when she has revised the final draft, she will submit it to several newspapers in Macragge and choose one of her commonly used pen names. One to publish.

This is exactly how she lived her life for decades.

She picked up the baby, hummed a tune to her heart's content, and rocked it gently and rhythmically.

"Robert Guilliman is indeed an admirable man, but in more than ten years, I may still be here, freely writing some editorials, planting a few hectares of fields, and calling your father to repair the pillars and columns that were broken by the rain. Awning," Jura said to himself, "where will you be then, my Ionid, Ionid Hill?"