Warhammer: Start with a dog

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Later, Toramino, who had rearranged himself, sat in Soltarn's office.

The original body left a lot of things for them in the palace, but they were not ordinary daily necessities. Many pieces of furniture were of extraordinary craftsmanship. Each piece could be displayed in a museum as a treasure and admired by the world for its exquisiteness and horizontal artistic style. Spanning the entire history of mankind, they show the makers' familiarity with ancient Terra, but not only are they completely out of place, they are generally too large.

So Soltarn now had to use a full-scale table made of marble and steel, dazzlingly carved with countless branches and light leaking from the leaves, and a table exquisitely carved in red sandstone. A winged lion-like chair emerged and barely served as a desk chair, and Toramino was very excited to get a chair that looked like someone had once sat on it. It was covered with gold foil and had four feet carved into handles. A huge Tizka-style painted fragrant wood seat with beaded lion paws serves as his own chair.

On one side of the office are rows of towering cast-iron windows that are half open. Outside is the atrium of Olympia College, which is now guarded by guards wearing steel-colored and yellow-black power armor. A little further away, behind the roof, you can vaguely see the people emerging from the cafeteria. Smoke.

Despite the distance, the Astartes' enhanced olfactory organs picked up the molecules floating in the air and told them that today's wonderful lunch should be the latest batch of canned beans with sauce, torn corpse starch scones and Serve ceramic porridge cooked with any available grains, a small amount of precious concentrated lime juice, and sliced ​​as thin as a cicada and placed on top of the porridge as a famous signature dish of the local canteen, from the Imperial Navy (robbed) ) The super salty, tough Glocks meat slices that have been marinated for eighty years on the supply ship.

"To be honest, for the first time, I thought I would never get tired of war and the painful wails of souls, but I found that I have recently begun to get tired of rushing into the camps or ships of the Thousand Sons, Word Bearers, or any other wizards. The task of smashing their heads, with my father's blessing, it is easy to rush in and beat these chaos-ridden guys and demons, but those pure warriors with outstanding combat skills can still cause us trouble - and if they start to be special If we escape quickly, we will easily get lost if we rashly leave the confines of Medlengard to pursue us. Oh, by the way, speaking of this, it might have been last week or a few hours ago. Grendel just took him with him. The team jumped into a battleship of an unidentified warband during the expulsion battle, and then our Dimensional Iron - Technical Sergeant brothers never heard from them again. "

Soltarn frowned. As their helpless settlement after losing Olympia, the number of Iron Warriors on Medrengard was indeed sufficient, but part of it was due to the civil war thousands of years ago and the ongoing politics that followed. If they fail in the struggle and are expelled, they may be scattered among various warbands.

Some of them left voluntarily. If they are lucky, these Iron Warriors can conquer an empire world that is negligent or has insufficient guards before their resources are exhausted, and defend themselves in some galaxy fortresses built according to the Iron Warriors' preferences. Some can even own One to several galaxies and their defense systems, the remaining ones were carefully ground, screened, and recast during the screening process he had just completed - so the disappearance of an entire team is nothing. Losses that can be ignored.

"Is this happening?! You should have reported it earlier! Tolamino! Although he has not yet fully recovered the shrewd mind of the Kadaras I know, Grendel's force is quite useful in maintaining our deterrence. Soltarn suppressed his anger, "I will ask you to issue a detailed accident report on this matter later."

Toramino gave a stern and sincere apology without emotion, claimed that due to the undetermined time difference, a new data pad had been created for his report, and continued to shake his wine glass.

"In short, you, Soltarn Wo Bronn, the former adjutant of the 45th Dalian Company, are now an extremely successful Chaos Lord according to word of mouth here. If you don't make a sound, you will be successful. If you make a big splash, you will be silent. The Earth has eliminated or incorporated all dissidents in the Fourth Legion (Here Toramino snorted coldly), took over the legacy left by Barban Falk after his ascension to the devil, and there are many people inside and outside the Eye of Terror. You and the war gang are all trying to guess whether your move was inspired by the Gene Father, and which god the great Iron Lord and his descendants are now favored by. After all, there is a rare pregnant woman by your side. The blessed son of the speaker, and it is obviously not the crude one made by the current group of dark apostles."

This war blacksmith, who was born into a noble family in the city-state, used his psychic powers to transform his power armor into some ancient Olympian noble robe style. He wore strappy sandals with staggered straps that reached up to his strong calves, and on his The long white hair and braids are decorated with flowers and leaves of local Olympian plants. There are no luxurious and fragile green leaves and flowers here, so the thin gold leaf beaten by the slave's soft and nimble fingers can only be used as a substitute for care.

The antique goblet in his hand was produced in a destroyed imperial world. It looks very much like a chalice made of glass and silver. This size allows the Space Marine to hold it without looking too small. Its exquisiteness The fragility was in sharp contrast to the simple water glass milled from cannonball steel in Soltarn's hand across from him.

"I guess they want to guess who the Great Hall was built for, which new aspect of the god the statue shows, why they were able to obtain such a normal territory, and how to replicate my success? Huh? "

"Re-engraving?" Toramino shook his head, "Like Flix, you still think so naively about this mess ten thousand years from now! Compared with the re-engraving that has unknown results and may take a long time, Most warband leaders or ambitious guys prefer to just pick the fruit.”

"Oh? Picking fruit? That's whimsical. If they really dare to do that, I would be happy to see for myself what interesting things will happen. Although I think that as the descendants of Perturabo, we are indeed in the prayer sequence. There is priority, but the Lord of Steel does not just accept scraps and scraps! Even in the darkest ten thousand years, the amount of gene seeds absorbed by the Iron Warriors from other legions was very limited——"

Soltarn's smiling and confident talk suddenly stopped as if someone had accurately slit his throat with a scalpel. Toramino squinted his eyes and noticed the stone forger's face in the bright light outside the window. Li suddenly became pale and angry, as if he had recalled something that he didn't want to talk about and kept secret.

Gene seeds? Toramino blinked and tried to start a new conversation, "Indeed, we usually always select the gene seeds of those Dornish stones to create new blood. The seeds of these stones are not only delicacies favored by the dark gods, but also Taking them as slaves and charging them to death is a pleasant and effective pastime, isn't it?"

The Stone Forger's vague and gritted answer seemed to have a mouthful of blood stuck in his throat, "Hmph, hum... maybe, but you have to admit that the gene seeds of the Imperial Fist are indeed stable and pure. There are some redeeming features (Tolamino raised his eyebrows slightly)... If we were to choose anyone among the remaining legion seeds in the empire to replace part of the functions of our gene seeds, then there is really no one more suitable than the Seventh Legion. You mentioned this, I've been hearing that half of some of the warbands that haven't made it back are actually Imperial Fists soldiers wearing ancient power armor stripped from their dead Iron Warriors veterans, is this true? "

Toramino smiled, "Oh! Let me tell you how did you and Felix get to this point? Poor old city breaker, the former chief trident and first company commander! In the end, he was reduced to a half-breed bastard. Work and charge for him! Do you really not care about what happens outside of Medlengard except for going out to plunder? Yes, in fact, only you, Flix and Falk originally led it? Almost all of the warbands are Iron Warriors. In other warbands, the senior officers and war blacksmiths are still noble members of the Fourth Army, but the ordinary soldiers and low-level officers below are actually all made up of our annoying yellow enemies. Transformed from seeds.”

Soltarn's voice now sounded like that of a mortal man suffering from fever, weak from shock for some reason unknown to Toramino. He hummed, "So there are actually quite a few of us here who are not Iron Warriors. A member of Gene! Then why is Honso so universally hostile?”

"This young man has no martial ethics and does not abide by the ancient legion tactics!" Toramino took a sip of wine. "He has neither the grace brought by the ancient Olympian blood nor the self-knowledge like you! As Steel Warrior, we look down on him because of his bloodline and lack of etiquette and rules. He is regarded as a traitor among those soldiers who can realize that they may have Imperial Fist bloodline——"

"Wait a minute." The Earth Ruler's damaged vocal cords became tight due to mechanical compression, "What do you mean by 'react'?!"

"Oh." Toramino said with surprise, "Because some people's warbands do not have the conditions to carry out very sophisticated hypnosis and brainwashing procedures, of course some recipients of the Imperial Fist seeds will begin to feel that something is wrong and rise up against them. The superior officers are usually very proficient in the suppression process. They only need to kill the leader and send the others to be brainwashed again. "

"Perturabo's Thunder!!! How many Iron Warriors do we have here who are actually Imperial Fists?!"

"This." Toramino tilted his head and thought for a while, "It's hard to say, but it may be close to more than half."

"Isn't it less than half? That's okay, it's better than there..."

Soltarn even looked relieved.

Toramino raised his eyebrows again.

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Samokwan and Aquilon didn't stay long in the square. The Thousand Sons Wizard immediately chose to give in respectfully (?) after his demonic and witchcraft attacks and temptations all came to nothing, because Samokwan said under Laum's teaching He made a threat that he didn't understand, but was a shocking threat to the Thousand Sons Wizard: "If you bother me again, I will eat all your scarlet letter warriors!"

The horrifying speech of this blessed son of the Word Bearers, who had a strong psychic mutant guard (?) and was so vicious (?) that he even ate the Scarlet Letter Warriors, made other people look at him, and then their wandering around here became quite easy. , they did not return to the academy until it was time for classes.

They were now sitting in a sixth-grade classroom, listening to Professor Uriel Ventris talk about what they needed to pay attention to in atmospheric entry combat.

"...To sum up, although in theory, Space Marines can indeed wear heavy armor or even ordinary power armor for atmospheric release, but even if My faith is my shield (My faith is my shield), I do not recommend violating it. According to the guidance of the Holy Code, it would take too much luck to carry out such an attack if there are other ways. Samokuan, please answer, according to the process of the Holy Code of Astartes, under normal circumstances, one time. What should be done with the atmospheric release of the Adeptus Stater?"

Samokwan sat up straight while writing notes on his data pad with flying fingers.

"Well," the boy wearing a power armor that was being slowly repaired by Raum searched his rapidly modified brain and looked at his notes to confirm, "there are two ways: the first , first go to the hangar, and then find the vehicle assigned to us, such as the Thunderhawk, and then the Thunderhawk pilot will take us to the designated location on the ground to carry out the operation; secondly, take the airdrop pod to quickly break in and land. You should pay special attention to protect yourself from too much impact.”

"Very good." Uriel nodded and put away his handout data pad, "Then this class will end here, and then it will be lunch time."

Aquilon straightened his curved, fearless back muscles, expressed his joy at the announcement with a deep growl, and then he eagerly jumped out of the window, using his strong and extra-long arms hanging by his side. Taking a shortcut to the college cafeteria, Samokwan stuffed his stationery into the storage compartment of his power armor as usual. His Sentinel Blade was not taken out and was temporarily stored in Soltarn. There - carrying a weapon that was too valuable here for these two children would be a thousand times more dangerous than wandering around without a weapon.

Uriel and Samokwan were left to walk slowly along the majestic and beautiful temple-like outer colonnade to have lunch.

"I heard, Professor Uriel, you still plan to return?"

When Uriel heard this, he looked at the pair of stormy gray eyes that were almost exactly the same as his now. Recently, because the light in Olympia Academy is closer to normal sunlight, after the first few days when these skinless children find themselves suffering from severe muscle pain and wanting to hide indoors if they are exposed to too much of this light, it seems that the Space Marine Plant Entering the pigment control ball [Melanochromic Organ], which is specially designed to provide them with radiation protection, this organ starts to operate due to the special light. A thin layer of new skin-like tissue begins to form where the light shines.

In this regard, they tried a controlled experiment and found that if the composition of light radiation is close to solar radiation, it can indeed stimulate the pigment control ball to produce a new layer of cells to protect the body and wrap the exposed muscles. However, Medlen had previously The sterile white phosphorus-like sky in Garde cannot stimulate this organ to work properly.

Therefore, now there is a translucent skin film on Samokan's face. Although the red muscles and white teeth are still vaguely visible, everyone can see the genetic characteristics on his face: there is no doubt that , although he has black hair like the Iron Warriors, he looks more like a son of Guilliman, or in other words, he looks like the son of Uriel Ventris.

"Yes." Uriel looked at him with mixed emotions. He didn't know how to face such a result, a... hybrid born from his genetic material, but he still answered the other person as gently as possible. problem. "After the course I was responsible for ended, I tried to return to my chapter and home. Our death oath has been completed, Kallan Gol and the evil within it have been reduced to powder, and we can embark on the journey. The way home.”

"But will they believe you?" The boy pointed out sharply, with a hint of desire, "You can actually stay here, Soltarn and the others are not the same as the real bad guys. Moreover, Soltarn tried Many times, he also wanted to find a safe route to fly around Cardia, but he couldn't find it. Can you find it? "

"Perhaps." The same stormy gray eyes as his looked back at Samokan gently, "No matter what, I, we, Pausanius and I will always be a member of the Ultramarines. We are the sons of Guilliman. We will eventually return to Macragge. We believe that since the prophecies of the Throne and Lord Tigris successfully guided us and sent us here, we can also return to our Chapter brothers with the power given to us. to prove our loyalty."

"Macragge," Samokwan murmured, "I hope I can go there one day. That means I can meet you again."

"There will be a day," Uriel comforted, even though he knew it was a long shot.