Warhammer: In the Name of Nirvana

Chapter 702: No one would not rest on Saturday, right?

"Are you serious? Robert?"

"Are you really willing to use your Macragge to tell lies that no one will believe?"

"And Mortarion didn't expose you to your face: he is really gentle."

"Shut up, Conrad."

"It's not you who caused me to be like this."

Taking off the ceremonial armor only used in diplomacy, he carefully placed the gifts from Barbarus in the safest room of the Macragge's Glory, and then carefully gathered the fragile agreement in his hands. : When he had settled everything, Guilliman finally set foot on the land of Nikea.

There is no doubt that Nicaea is a beautiful and wonderful world, with black land and thousands of towering "chimneys". The flowing magma like blood vessels pushes the cobalt blue volcanic rocks until they are together. The wild hot wind on the volcanic plain completely solidified into the shape of terraces and whirlpools.

Thousands of such magnificent natural transformation methods have given rise to countless living and dead volcanoes, and the latter is the natural location for the entire Nicaea Conference: among the strange-shaped magma extrusions, the genes of the Iron Warriors The Primarch and his descendants hollowed out an entire volcano's base, building a majestic amphitheater and thousands of small rooms that could be used for other purposes.

The wonderful technology from the Adeptus Mechanicus protects these buildings from the storms, volcanic debris, and gravitational electromagnetic waves that have raged on Nikaea for a long time. Large-scale environmental control machines allow the most vulnerable mortals to Survive for a long time on this primitive world where oxygen was not even born.

Everything on Nikea seems to confirm the development of its ruler from the beginning to the present, showing how the human empire relied on pure power and technology to carve out a foothold for its fragile race in a chaotic world. The base and the beauty that can be dreamed of are staged again.

Perhaps, this is why the Lord of Humanity finally chose this place?

Guilliman didn't think about it. He didn't even stop to take a good look at the unique beauty on this planet: in a few days, the opening ceremony of the entire Nicaea Conference alone would last almost a week, and it would take The tax of an entire star region, when the time comes, he will have plenty of time to lament this waste.

Now, he just wants to rest and relieve the fatigue accumulated in his brain: for the Lord of Macragge, communicating with most of his blood brothers is a labor that is no easier than directing a war. Work, but fortunately, there are still a few brothers who can give Guilliman real relaxation.

He knew who he was going to find.

After dismissing most of the guards and saying goodbye to Morgan, who still had work to do, Guilliman followed the instructions in the communicator and shuttled briskly through the halls of Nicaea. It only took him a few minutes to reach his destination. Ground: A seemingly private common room. The luxurious door and flags in the corridor indicate that it now belongs to several Primarchs.

Including him.

The Macragge pushed the door open and saw a midnight ghost with a shirt draped over his shoulders, a pair of pajamas curled up between his legs, and bare feet sitting lazily on the ground, leaning against There was a soft cushion under the sofa, and there was a straw with dripping water in his fangs, which made his words sound unclear.

"Hey, you're here?"

But the smile is still very clear.

"That's just right, come here: Corax and I are about to push to the bottom."

Following the guidance of his eyes, Guilliman saw another dark figure on the sofa. It was a more serious-looking Konrad: the Primarch of the Raven Guard Legion, who was wearing a home suit in a neat manner. Wearing casual clothes, although she was also barefoot, she was at least sitting on the sofa intact, smiling at him and nodding.

His voice was soft.

"We still need a support position in the team: do you want a cut, Robert?"

"It depends."

Before Guilliman noticed, a smile spread across his face.

"Who are we fighting today?"

"Where's the big shot?"

The happy hum of the Midnight Ghost brought Guilliman back to reality: when he realized it, he was already sitting next to Corax, his feet constantly avoiding Konrad's casual movements. Hair, mouth has begun to chew the afternoon tea snacks that Midnight Ghost brought out from Morgan's boat.

Just as he swallowed: Conrad suddenly began asking questions about the meeting.

Then there was the previous answer: and Midnight Ghost was obviously not satisfied with this.

"Did I hurt you?"

Conrad screamed strangely, knocked over the last mob blocking the way, and threw the blood bottle he found to Corax.

"What does this have to do with me?"

"Asking knowingly."

Guilliman's brow twitched.

"If you hadn't been in front of me for decades, swearing on your precious Nostramo for nothing, and actually deceived me many times, how could I have unknowingly... I also learned this sentence: And the situation happened to be urgent at the time. If I swore something else, Mortarion might not believe it."

"So it's my fault: you know how to wrong people, you great politician."

While the three of them were waiting for the next electronic map to load, Conrad casually threw his controller onto the cushion next to him, turned his head, looked up and down at Guilliman with a strange expression, and squinted his eyes, pondering what he had just said.

"In other words: did you really take Macragge and tell a lie that no one believed?"

"What does it matter."

Guilliman looked very relaxed.

"Motarion was also lying."

"How do you know?"

"You were not there: we both knew that our oaths to each other were not binding."

"Then why did you bother to do this: wouldn't two people lying at the same time be a sign of a breakdown in the negotiations?"

"On the contrary, we reached an agreement."

Guilliman shook his head proudly and took the drink handed to him by Corax.

"In the final analysis, there is room for temporary cooperation between me, Morgan and Mortarion, so we can reach a cooperation: negotiation is only a result of cooperation, not a necessary part of cooperation. As for the oath, it is just to reiterate my position."

"What is Mortarion's position?"

"Even if Magnus wins, he will not give up his efforts to abolish the think tank system."

"What about yours?"

Corax continued to ask.

"I just told him: I don't intend to let the results of Nikaea affect my five hundred worlds."

"Even if he wins a great victory, the think tank of the Ultramarines will be retained, at most their development will be curbed on paper, leaving Mortarion with a victory face: if he doesn't even want this face, then let's see what means he can use to shake my country."

"What an arrogant statement."

Conrad's laughter drowned out the snort from the corner of the room.

"Unexpected, Guilliman."

Midnight Haunter wiped the corner of his eyes.

"You've become so arrogant."

"I learned it from you guys."

Guilliman swallowed his drink and pretended to be fierce.

"I didn't know how to lie before: at least I wouldn't lie about my Macragge."

"People will change: especially after being with a jerk like you for a long time, Conrad."

"That's a good thing, brother, believe me."

Conrad blinked, curled up on the floor, crossed his legs, stretched his arms to the limit, trying to hook the drink not far away: but it wasn't until Corax kindly handed him the poor drink that Midnight Haunter got what he wanted.

At this time, the progress bar had reached the last stage.

"So, Morgan also means the same thing?"

"Yes, we advance and retreat together."

Guilliman nodded.

"She is responsible for informing Sanguinius, Jaghatai Khan and others of the results of the negotiations."

"Will the Khan agree to give up Magnus?"

"In fact, he agreed."

The Macragge rubbed his chin.

"In the past period of time, or on Ullanor, he had several private talks with Morgan and Magnus. I don't know what they talked about: but after he talked to both of them, Jaghatai told us his position in private."

"If the basic rights and freedoms of Magnus and the Thousand Sons can be guaranteed, then the Khan does not mind remaining neutral: as long as Magnus is not slandered beyond his responsibility at the meeting in Nikaea, the Khan will not interfere with the Emperor's final judgment."

"That is to say..."

"Jaghatai also thinks it is a good idea to temporarily imprison Magnus."

Guilliman smiled: even he himself was a little unbelievable.

"Or rather, even the Khan thinks Magnus must calm down."

"What does he think of Mortarion?"

"He doesn't care."

Guilliman shook his head.

"Jaghtai Khan doesn't think Mortarion can accomplish anything."

"Isn't this too arrogant?"

The Raven King next to him was a little worried.

"Mortarion has been planning for his anti-psychic cause for a hundred years."

"Yes, a hundred years."

Conrad grinned: he obviously reached a tacit understanding with Jaghtai Khan.

"A hundred years without action: do you expect such a person to win?"

Corax didn't reply, but his expression was still deeply worried. Guilliman patted the little brother's shoulder and comforted him, then leaned back and leaned lazily on the soft sofa: he had only walked into this lounge for a few minutes, and his body and mind had completely gotten rid of fatigue.

It was even more effective than his drink.

The Macragge man smiled and shook his head bitterly: It's a pity that the brothers have been together less and less over the years. Otherwise, even if one of them could stay in Macragge for a long time, his mental state would definitely improve greatly, and Ms. Euton and others would not have to worry about him.

The Primarch's sigh ended with the sound of swords rubbing at the opening of the video game.

"Has it started?"

Guilliman looked up and raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"What's going on?"

"Are we going to fight Morgan this time?"

Looking at the white shadow floating in the air like a god on the electronic screen, Guilliman felt a sense of pressure for no reason.

"Any questions?"

Conrad didn't even look back.

"It's rare that she's not here: How about we try the newly developed Lion DLC?"

"Forget it, just Morgan."

Hearing another groan, Guilliman could only frown and pick up the controller.

"At least you don't have to worry about...fuck!"

With the words still lingering in his throat, Guilliman felt as if the electronic screen in front of him was flashed by a strong white light: when he focused his attention, all that was left for the original body was darkness and a yellow countdown.

"Am I dead?"

"You need to avoid it after entering the venue: I forgot to tell you in advance."

Corax scratched his head.

"Count it on me: It's okay, we've been stuck here in Morgan for four hours."

"It's not...this..."

The Macragge hesitated: This was not the first time he had played this kind of game, so Guilliman knew very well that Konrad's game was often based on what each Primarch could actually and theoretically achieve. Designing each opponent's physical fitness and fighting methods, it can be regarded as a bloodless brotherly combat, which is why he is willing to play with things here.

But to put it this way...

"Are you mistaken, Conrad?"

Guilliman stared at the figures of Konrad and Corax as their respective characters dodged under Morgan's psychic onslaught.

"I was wearing Terminator armor, armed from head to toe: how could Morgan have cut me down on sight? She even had a one-handed sword?"

"That sword is a divine weapon."

Corax explained.

“One of the most powerful pieces of equipment in the game: although I don’t know why it’s designed this way.”

"Don't be surprised, brother."

It wasn't until his character fell to the ground due to an unexpected flurry of waterfowl that Conrad threw away his controller, drank a drink while waiting for the resurrection time, and turned to explain to Guilliman.

"Morgan can really do that."

"Cleave my terminator with one sword?"

"Is this difficult?"

"Not really...but kill me with one sword?"

Guilliman laughed angrily.

"All else aside: could our sisters of Avalon have this kind of strength?"

"Of course she does."

This time, it was neither Konrad nor Corax who answered Guilliman, but the silent voice in the corner: the Macragge looked for a voice, surprised that his brother could still speak.

"What do you mean, Jonson?"

"I said: Of course she does."

The Lord of Caliban is the only guy in the whole room who is fully armed. He is like a cold sculpture, placed in the corner of the lounge, showing his disgrace in the half-dark light. Hi: Jonson was dismissive of the relaxed behavior of his blood brothers. He just opened his closed eyes slightly and answered Guilliman's confusion in an unquestionable tone.

"If Morgan wants to, she can use spiritual energy to enhance her physical strength. She has demonstrated it many times during our discussions with me, but in most cases, this temporary enhancement method will affect her other physical strength. Physical qualities, such as speed and reflexes: But if you stand still and let her fight, you may indeed face a slender Vulcan.”

Guilliman was stunned for a moment.

"Why didn't I know this?"

"Maybe it's because someone prefers to discuss math and philosophy with Morgan."

Zhuang Sen grinned, a rare sarcasm on his lion-like face.

"There's nothing wrong with that."

After hearing this, although he didn't have much confidence in his heart, Guilliman gritted his teeth and forced out a retort about the [deep affection] between him and Zhuang Sen.

"At least I am an ally worth looking forward to in serious diplomatic situations."

The lion smiled, not offended.

"The Galaxy can live without diplomacy: but the Galaxy cannot live without war."

"Don't talk too much."

Guilliman raised his head proudly.

"Perhaps in fifty years we can bring permanent peace to the Empire."

"You really think so, Guilliman?"

Jonson seemed to hesitate, looking at his brother in a new light.

"Is there any problem?"

"It's a big problem."

The lion shook his head, and his words were as sure as a prophet's.

"If everyone thinks this way: then the war will definitely continue."

"A person who fully expects peace is precisely the person who is least likely to get peace, because the galaxy is full of shameless wolves. Praising peace loudly is tantamount to telling these potential opponents the weakness in your heart: listen to me, Brothers Guilliman, only those brave men who are always holding on to their weapons, always ready to go into battle, and always willing to die with their enemies, can win true peace in the glory of victory and the fear of their enemies.”

"Since ancient times, peace has been fought out, not shouted out."

"..."

"Whatever you say."

Guilliman was silent for a moment. He found that he had no smooth logical chain to refute such words, so the Macragge wisely withdrew from the argument: he did not need to insist on something. Another thing his brotherhood with Morgan and Conrad taught him.

Well...a few positive cases.

The original body reluctantly admitted, then counted down the numbers on the electronic screen, and took the opportunity to stuff a handful of snacks into his mouth.

“…”

Even after so many years, Morgan’s sweet hobby has not changed at all…

But he clearly remembered that the Spider Queen seemed to be right in front of him, asking her daughter named Virgo not to make the food too stimulating in the future: Could it be that Virgo just forgot this time? It shouldn’t be, right? Isn’t she a mobile wetware with a precise structure?

Guilliman was distressed, and his face was twisted because of the things in his mouth that could not be spit out casually: until Krax stood up deliberately, took another drink for him, and then stuffed it into his hand attentively.

“Thank you, brother.”

Guilliman looked at him gratefully.

“You’re welcome.”

The Raven King hesitated.

“Robert, can you tell me what kind of person Brother Mortarion is?”

“I haven’t seen him much.”

“Him.”

The Macragge thought for a while.

"In a sense: you can think of Mortarion as a kind of mirror image of Morgan."

"Mirror image?"

"That's how I feel anyway."

Guilliman stroked his chin, and the gradually dying memories suddenly began to attack him.

——————

[Your threats are worthless. ]

[My dear brother: You don't really expect that little help on Terra, do you? ]

Morgan crossed his legs and leaned lazily on the dark green stone chair, with an arrogant demeanor as if this was the throne room of the Aurora, and Mortarion was a guest who needed her help: since the three negotiators set the initial tone. After starting the exact bargaining, this arrogant attitude became the best shield for the Spider Queen.

When Mortarion's harsh conditions and sharp words always left Guilliman, who was more gentle, speechless, Morgan's arrogant army would strike, pushing the Lord of Death back to the negotiation table again and again: because Mortarion didn't have many cards to threaten Morgan, and the most he could rely on was [the firm attitude of the Emperor and Holy Terra].

And these things he regarded as killer moves would only bring Morgan's intimate smile.

[You are also qualified to talk to me about Terra, and are you qualified to talk to me about Terra? ]

After everyone was sent out, Morgan's attitude could only be described as arrogant, at least that's what Guilliman thought: he was always worried that the weapons on the round table between the three of them would be impatient to stain his brothers' blood in the next moment.

Mortarion's expression is very dangerous...

"Watch your attitude, Morgan."

The Lord of Death stared at his relative whose attitude suddenly changed: Although he knew that this was a bargaining tactic, Mortarion's anger was still difficult to suppress. Under the urging of the desire to win, he decided to play some of the cards that he had originally suppressed.

"I know much more about the Emperor and Terra than you do."

[Why do you think so? ]

Mortarion smiled contemptuously.

"Why do you think so? Just because I know the deepest secrets of the entire human empire!"

"Have you been to the palace? Do you know..."

[You didn't know that the Emperor dreamed of becoming a super hamster a few days ago? ]

"..."

The Lord of Death paused, and there was obvious daze and surprise in his expression.

But he recovered quickly.

"So what! You don't know the harm that psychic energy can bring! In fear..."

[Guess who discovered that those black stones can suppress the fluctuations of the sea of souls? 】

“…”

“But what about the Eye of Terror? Even if it is so close to the solar system…”

[Ah: That’s where our great hamster father buried his golden shovel. 】

[Guess again, who helped him find it? 】

Morgan chuckled and watched Mortarion’s face with satisfaction.

[If you don’t want to guess, you can also go back and read the history books of the Great Crusade carefully to see who helped him solve those difficult cases that the Emperor had to solve personally: War is not the only service for mankind, idiot, and even in war, the service you provide is not very good, poor Mortarion. 】

The Spider Queen stood up with her hands on her waist, looking down at Mortarion’s shadow proudly.

“…”

Mortarion was completely silent.

Guilliman was the same.

He looked left and right, his brain, which could handle all administrative issues of the entire Five Hundred Worlds at the same time, was working rapidly, trying his best to know what his two blood relatives were talking about in the simple dialogue just now: What is the tunnel under Terra? What is the Emperor's dream of becoming a hamster? What is the Emperor's special galaxy to bury his shovel?

Is this the latest secret language?

"Um, you two..."

Guilliman rubbed his hands after thinking again and again, but couldn't come up with a result.

"Can you tell me that you are..."

[Shut up! ] / "Shut up!"

[It's none of your business! ] / "It's none of your business!"

——————

"What's wrong, brother?"

The Raven King blinked in confusion.

"You have been silent for a minute."

"Just... what to say?"

Guilliman was silent, Guilliman sighed, Guilliman gritted his teeth, and Guilliman shook his head.