Warhammer: In the Name of Nirvana

Chapter 648: Debut (Part 2)

"Jupiter?"

"It's really interesting: according to the cultural tradition of Olympia, shouldn't the Lord of Steel call himself Zeus? After all, he has lived in an ancient Greek theme park full of city-states, tyrants and marble temples since he was a child. Even if he is so arrogant, he must abide by tradition."

"Is it possible that if he calls himself [Zeus], people who hear it will involuntarily associate it with some qualities that are not suitable for public occasions. Lord Perturabo is not Fulgrim, and he should not be so: open in this regard."

"You mean: fraternity?"

"Yes: and tolerance."

#Ladies' laughter#

"This is too exaggerated, Ms. Qile."

Mesati shook her head, and there was a trace of denial in the smile at the corner of her mouth, and the action in her hands did not stop: the narrator's black arms occupied half of the stone column, squeezing all the teacups and plates to one side, leaving enough space for her dinner.

Recording board, radio pen, best quality video recorder and sketch array, implants that can extract and strengthen memory fragments in the mind at will are placed on the back of the neck. The needle-like precision instruments on the eyebrows and fingertips can keep the user in the best theoretical state at any time. They are naturally psychic creations.

As for what kind of harm will excessive use of them bring to one's soul?

That is the responsibility of the user himself.

After all, the producers and sellers of these high-end psychic products no longer bear any legal responsibility from the moment the goods are officially sold: there is such a sentence on every product manual and trade signature issued by Far East Frontier, and the invoice with Avalon seal that Mesadi received when shopping is of course no exception.

It sounds a bit unsafe.

But what about it?

The narrator hummed a tune easily, chatting with her predecessors, taking out polishing fibers from her small jar, using these magical fine dusts to perform daily maintenance on each Avalon imported product in her hand, which can greatly increase their service life.

She was convinced of this.

You know, these narrator-essential instruments in front of her were bought by her at least seventeen years ago from a well-reputed wandering trader who specialized in long-distance trade between the solar system and the Far East. Their performance exceeded any similar products on the market of Holy Terra at that time, and they are still able to keep up with the trend today.

Especially the video recorder: its shutter count has already exceeded four million times.

More importantly, their performance seventeen years ago is almost the same as it is today, and their service life is terrifyingly long, maybe they can send her away: Mesati never regretted spending a lot of money to buy such a luxurious equipment for herself, after all, it is not available on the market now.

It's strange to say: In fact, the long-distance trade between Great Avalon and Holy Terra began as early as eighty or ninety years ago. There are countless wandering merchants who have devoted themselves to this. They transported high-quality high-end products and exotic specialties that Terra people have never heard of from the Far Eastern frontier, obtained a large amount of wealth and Terra's unique products, and made amazing profits.

Logically speaking, such a profitable trade route should continue to expand, but the fact is that more than a decade ago, the number of merchants who came to Holy Terra for trade has gradually decreased: a typical example is Mesati's narrator package. When she saved enough money and wanted to buy another set from a familiar merchant, she found that he had already devoted himself to a new trade route.

The trade between Holy Terra and Avalon is less than one-tenth of what it was at its peak. Those Far Eastern merchants who are still willing to go to Terra are often vague about the reasons for such a sudden change. No matter how much they are tempted, they can't speak: these wandering merchants are so loyal to their homeland, or to the Queen of Avalon, that they seem to be bound by a natural contract.

Mesati also heard that those wandering merchants from the Far East who gave up the Terra route now have other opportunities to make money: the Far Eastern merchant who was familiar with her said before leaving Holy Terra for the last time that he would devote himself to the internal circulation trade within the Far Eastern border in the future.

Although the profit has been reduced, it can be made up in other ways.

Mesati remembered this strange saying for a long time. She once used this question to consult the wisdom of Ms. Qile in front of her, and the answer she got was quite vague: According to Ms. Qile herself, the seal holder was actually very clear about the rapid decline of trade with the Far East.

"He was unhappy: but he accepted it."

Mesati remembered clearly that when Ms. Qile gave this incoherent answer, she was sitting upright on a chair, clasping her hands together, lowering her head, and whispering. The rapid speed of her speech made Mesati unable to hear clearly what she was saying, but it felt a bit like the prayer of a believer.

Qile often does this.

Just like: now.

After using the polishing fiber to maintain the last hand tool, Mesati secretly glanced at Ms. Qile sitting opposite her: she had just finished that strange prayer, and was now holding a cup of cold tea, slowly observing the scene under the tower.

Mesati looked in the direction, and then curled her lips in boredom.

"What's so good to see?"

"Those are the four primarchs, Mesati."

Qile chuckled.

"Just a few minutes ago, weren't you still fascinated by Horus and Dorn?"

"They are different."

Mesati defended.

"Even if it is a god-like figure, seeing too much in a short period of time will produce a certain immunity, not to mention how can these four compare with the wolf god? Three of them have a bad reputation: I haven't even heard of the story of Chagatai Khan, Mortarion is so cunning and tyrannical, and the rumors surrounding Lorgar are enough to stop a child from crying."

"Fulgrim's reputation is not bad, but who hasn't seen him? He returns to Holy Terra every once in a while, immersed in his achievements and art exhibitions: even I have seen Fulgrim several times with my own eyes, and he has a palace-like barracks on Terra."

"Ah, I have heard of it too."

Qile nodded.

"The Emperor specially allowed it: Fulgrim is really the one who is favored."

"That's right."

Mesati drifted his eyes.

"But Lorgar next to him, I heard that he was scolded by the Emperor many years ago?"

"You mean the Perfect City? No one knows what happened there. Some people say that the Emperor's legion punished the Word Bearers there, but some people say that the Emperor implicitly acknowledged Lorgar's faith in him there: anyway, the Word Bearers Legion has never been at peace in these years, and I heard that their military strength is now frighteningly large."

"At least 200,000."

"Each Crusade Expedition Fleet has at least 10,000 people, and the Word Bearers have at least 20 fleets like this. It is said that they have divided the entire Pacific Star Region into war zones that they need to be responsible for, and then evenly distributed 20 purification zones, just one for each Crusade Expedition Fleet."

"I also heard that they are planning to send new Crusaders to the Storm and Hazy Star Regions."

"Will the Primarchs there agree?"

"It's hard to say."

"Anyway, I don't like the name [Purification Zone]: it makes people feel uneasy."

"What will happen in there?"

"I don't know: the Word Bearers prohibit any outside visitors from visiting their purification zone. In fact, the entire Corgis star and a large area around it are designated as a navigation restricted area by them. Only a few ports are allowed to receive outsiders: they say that this is to fulfill the purification will of the Emperor as efficiently as possible and completely eliminate the channels for the unclean to escape to the outside world."

"It's incredible."

Hearing this, Mesati couldn't help but look at Luo Jia who had walked away in surprise: Even from such a distance, the appearance of the Great Word Bearer is so holy: his appearance is just like the Son of God in ancient legends, almost exactly the same as the great Lord of Humanity, and his white face is full of sacred prayers, which complements the majestic robe he wears.

Since the declaration of the Perfect City ignited the flames of the Crusade, the Great Speaker has almost never taken off his battle robe. Except for the sacred prayer ceremony, he always maintains a posture ready to devote himself to the holy war.

But such perseverance did not kill the gentle breath of Lorgar himself. He smiled and waved to the mortals, whispering the blessing of the God-Emperor to his people. When he noticed that Mesati and Qile were looking at him from afar, the Great Speaker was the only one among the four Primarchs who raised his hand to smile and greet them.

Beside him, Jaghatai Khan simply ignored them, and Mortarion hurried on his own, leaving the necessary communication to Typhon next to him: As for Fulgrim? He had already left others, including his brothers, far behind, and was intoxicated by the carved beams and painted buildings and the magnificent military power of the parade tower.

At this time, the Phoenix Lord was carefully comparing those exquisite reliefs, observing how many of them were boasting about the Emperor's children, and how many were praising the brother legions that he quietly listed as competitors?

He was indeed paying tribute to the mortals.

But even at a distance, Mesati could still see the perfunctory attitude of the Phoenix.

"Would the Phoenix be so rude?"

"He greeted you, but you didn't see it at the time, Mesati: Don't expect these gene primarchs to take care of your thoughts and exert a second effort on you: let's guess who will be next."

"It's incredible..."

Mesati did not respond, she just looked at Fulgrim whose figure gradually disappeared.

"In my impression, Fulgrim's humility comes from his bones. He can let children ride on his neck without hesitation and mingle with illiterate people. These are just things that happened 20 or 30 years ago. Although he is definitely not bad now, what makes him different?"

"People will change."

Qile looked at her nails.

"If you insist, Fulgrim will also let children ride on his neck and mingle with mortals now, but this will not change the growing pride and complacency in his heart. One day, it will completely change his gentle nature: or maybe his gentleness is just a disguise that deceives everyone, but now he can't pretend anymore."

"Why?"

"Because life is too smooth."

Qile chuckled.

"If life is smooth, it is natural to lack respect for others and fate: don't forget that Phoenix is the happiest person among the Primarchs. He has never encountered any setbacks, and the galaxy has not taken away even a treasure that can make him heartbroken."

"At this point, Fulgrim is even luckier than Guilliman. At least the King of Macragge truly lost his father, but can you think of what Phoenix lost? And he is the most glorious The original body, such a trouble-free life will naturally breed arrogance. "

"You have a low opinion of him."

"My evaluation of most of the Primarchs is actually very low. Among these four people, the one I evaluate highest is Jaghatai Khan. Mortarion ranks second to me: I don't know if you have noticed. , when the King of Barbarus passed by the array of mortals, the poisonous gas on his body obviously condensed a lot. "

"This doesn't look like a coincidence."

"Ah, I saw it."

Mesati nodded.

"Speaking of which, I remembered."

The narrator lady secretly lamented her good popularity more than once.

"When I was in the academy, someone once told me such a story: They said that the Rogue Traders in the Barbarus region were acting very strangely for a period of time. They would go to various well-known civilized worlds, including Avalon. and Macragge, but their main purpose seems not to be trading, but to examine local livelihood technologies and policies.”

"Then, they will collect all the methods they can collect to improve people's livelihood and bring them back to Barbarus, even if they have to pay a huge price: the Death Guard Corps has never said anything about this, but it is said that The population base of Barbarus has been growing over the past few decades, and modern facilities have been introduced one after another.”

"I heard that the Death Guard has also built a very advanced void trade center in the low-Earth orbit of Barbarus, and has been encouraging the Barbarians to actively colonize the surrounding areas and reclaim those barbaric lands: they do not care about this method It’s called survival of the fittest, that is, people must actively adapt to the changing wheels of the times.”

"Sounds great."

"Yes, but the poisonous mist miasma on Barbarus still exists."

"Nothing is perfect."

Keele stared at Mortarion, watching as the Primarch disappeared from her sight as the last figure among the four: Although the noise beside the main road never stopped, in Mortarion and all this He is insulated, and he seems to be a fringe figure naturally.

This is different from Khan.

After all, Khan took the initiative.

As for Mortarion: His marginalization is more like a passive choice.

"The Primarchs were eccentrics: normal was the most luxurious word for them."

At this time, Ms. Qile remembered the words that the palm-printer once complained in front of her.

She feels the same way now.

Who will be next?

Qile asked herself, but she actually already knew the answer: the communicator in her palm was transmitting the latest information to her in real time, including which Glory Queens were approaching Ullanor's low-Earth orbit.

"It's time to get to work."

The narrator sighed softly, and then stood up amidst Mesati's astonishment.

"Have you rested?"

"Now that you've rested, let's focus on the next scene."

"Is there any big shot coming?"

"That's right: as many as nine Glory Queens are arriving one after another."

"Get ready to record it, Mesati."

"after all……"

In Qile's pupils, there was a cold light that Mesadi couldn't understand.

"Before fate begins: this may be the last time they get together."

"Everyone comes on stage: we just need to sit here and watch quietly, that's all."

"Then who is next?"