Warhammer: In the Name of Nirvana

"Heh...huh..."

In the empty room, the heavy breathing floated around the pale golden beard and the hanging Dawnbreaker military flag. The emerald green pupils scanned the smooth wall like a lens, but only a taut face of the demigod could be seen.

Silent and depressed.

"It's really unseemly."

As his lips moved, Zhuang Sen's voice sounded hoarse and dry.

He felt a little nervous.

As the eldest son of the Emperor, and as the Lion of the Empire, Jonson rarely feels nervous: looking at the entire galaxy, there are probably no more than five existences that can make Jonson feel nervous, and the original body is pretty sure that more than half of them , has died by his sword.

Or, die in front of him.

Generally speaking, this situation is caused by Morgan. Her psychic spells are enough to completely erase the most powerful creatures in the galaxy from the realm of souls, and physical death is a matter of convenience: Zhuang Sen would count the kill as a joint achievement between him and Morgan, because that's how Morgan saw it.

Then, the Lion King will record it on the glorious stone wall of his own legion: only the achievements that make the vast majority of the Dark Angels convinced can be recorded on that [big rock] that is as old as the entire First Legion. Spider The Queen clearly meets all the above criteria.

The Dark Angels are not forgetful, and the Lion's memory is even more frightening. Although Morgan fought side by side with them almost half a century ago, every detail that can be passed down is still clearly recorded. In the history books of the First Legion: from the command room of the Indomitable Truth to the palace gate of Holy Terra, Johnson's inner circle has an entire library dedicated to recording this extremely long road to glory. .

The Lion himself often visits this secret library. It is one of his most frequent stops on the Indomitable Truth, where he will recall his past: recalling the years of fighting side by side with his blood relatives, Recall the most powerful challenge the First Legion has ever faced, and recall the fifty years at the beginning of the Great Crusade, filled with endless violence and fighting.

Back then, everything was simple: just kill, massacre, massacre, massacre, and [erasure of records].

In Zhuang Sen's view, only those fifty years of mountains of corpses, seas of blood and bones paving the way were the Great Crusade in the true sense. Now all this is just clearing away the remnants of their old achievements: There are very few real wars in the galaxy now.

Therefore, Zhuang Sen will miss those years full of wars, miss the feeling of carrying the fate of half the galaxy on his shoulders, miss those opponents who can make him nervous, make him afraid, make him take deep breaths involuntarily, and the coldness The sweat made every inch of hair wet and sticky to the skin.

He missed those guys who could kill him, but were killed by him in turn. They all died under his and Morgan's iron boots in the end: there was only one guy in the galaxy who could escape, and he can still bring joy to Jonson. Tension.

And now, he is outside the door.

The lion's ears perked up.

The stupid footsteps accompanied by Morgan's signature high-heel tapping sound made Zhuangson's brows tighten together. He retracted his thoughts and sights, lowered his voice and coughed twice until he was sure. So that his voice can be maintained at the most dignified level.

Then, he turned around, facing the door, and took a rare look at his appearance: black and red armor is always the first choice to show the style of a king. As for the Caliban green suit, Jonson had already stuffed him into the deepest part of his own battleship, because Morgan had clearly rejected it.

Jonson was not good at or had the time to play with these appearance things, so he simply adopted Morgan's opinion: since the Spider Queen said that black and red colors are better, then just put Caliban's colors on the shelf.

The footsteps were getting closer and closer, and one could even vaguely hear the low-pitched conversation of the two original bodies mixed in. Zhuang Sen finally cleared all the distracting thoughts in his mind. He took one last look at the huge figure leaning against the wall. Xingtu, however, was already sighing unconsciously.

Seriously.

if you can……

——————

"I really don't want to cooperate with that guy."

The king of the Five Hundred Worlds had his eyebrows drooped, his golden hair had lost its luster, and a long sigh was squeezed out from his clenched teeth: with this sad look on his face, people walked side by side with him. The Spider Queen had to desperately hold back her smile.

[You mean Johnson? 】

"Who else could it be?"

Guilliman rubbed his temples.

"Everyone is fine, but why did you drag this guy into this war?"

Speaking of this, the Macragges suddenly seemed to have some guesses.

"Or, it's that guy Zhuangson who took the initiative to find you. He wants to let his first legion participate in this expedition and gain some merit, so as not to let others say that he always holds the most powerful legion in his hands. Is it because you don’t work hard?”

【What a coincidence~】

After hearing the last sentence, the Lord of Avalon finally couldn't suppress his laughter.

[Jonson also told me this: He said that the reason why you went on an expedition and led such a large army to participate in the Battle of Ullanor was to take the opportunity to gain merit for yourself and to block those who accused you of doing work during the Great Expedition. Youyouzhongkou who did not contribute anything. 】

"...This is slander."

Guilliman was silent for a moment, his retort sounding sickly.

[But didn’t you just slander Zhuang Sen exactly the same way? 】

Morgan blinked, with a hint of sarcasm in his voice: Guilliman is considered one of the Spider Queen's familiar brothers in the Human Empire, so in front of him, Morgan occasionally doesn't bother to disguise himself, and It will reveal some sharp nature, but Guilliman can tolerate these shortcomings very well.

In other words, the Macragges actually like Morgan's shortcomings, because they make his blood relatives look more like a living person: what Guilliman needs is not the kind of obedient statue, he needs What is more important is the true brotherhood between blood relatives, even if it has some negative emotions, it actually doesn't matter.

Nothing could be worse than the Emperor.

"This is different, Morgan."

But even brotherhood did not prevent Guilliman from defending himself with a serious face.

"Jonson is slandering: and I am raising my doubts reasonably."

【Maybe. 】

Morgan was vague and didn't delve too deeply into the topic.

After dealing with several pairs of Primarch brothers who had a difficult relationship, the Spider Queen was no longer too lazy to continue to use her words in this aspect: besides, compared to the previous pairs, Jonson and Kiri Mann's hostility is really not serious.

It was more like the two of them were venting their anger.

Inexplicably angry: Obviously the two of them have never met each other.

[But, having said that. 】

When they walked to the door, Morgan first waved her hand to let the hunting roses who paid tribute to her retreat first, then lowered her voice and asked the Macraggean one last question interestingly.

[I have actually always wanted to ask you, and I have wanted to ask you decades ago, my Robert: Why do you have so many complaints and wariness against Jonson? 】

【He makes you feel uncomfortable? 】

"...Almost..."

This time, Guilliman's silence seemed particularly long to him.

"I don't deny that he is excellent, but his excellence gives me a different kind of pressure. Among all the Primarch brothers, he and Horus are the only two characters that I feel are out of reach: I must tell you Admit it, Morgan, I can't handle a guy of Jonson's character, and..."

[And you’re a little jealous? 】

Morgan's eyebrows were curved, and when her knowing gaze came to her, Guilliman couldn't even hide it: Although the relationship between the two people became more and more familiar, Morgan was in Guilliman's heart. The influence of "Man with a Thousand Faces" has also weakened, but even so, the Spider Queen will still give the Macragge people a sense of charm that is very similar to Ms. Yodon in every move she makes.

And whenever the real Ms. Euton looked at him with a half-smile like this, Guilliman could not hide his secret: he licked his dry lips, and just before he was about to open the door, , expressing his true feelings to his blood relatives as if pleading.

"Yes...I'm a little jealous of him."

[Why can you be jealous of him? 】

“Who could not envy the true legends of the Great Crusade?”

Guilliman bit his lip. He looked very unwilling, but he had to admit it.

"He is writing a true legend in the galaxy, and I am stuck on one side."

[I thought you liked this. 】

"Of course I did: but I also had dreams about war, duty and travel."

"When I was... very little."

"That's when I love fantasy: the ideals at that time can affect me now, but I can't do anything about it. Just like other ideals in my heart, they are destined to be buried under Macragge's prosperity. ”

The original body's face looked a little embarrassed.

"And Jonson truly has it all."

[So, this makes you jealous? 】

"...Please, Morgan."

"Don't tell me, please."

The original body begged softly, until his sister put away her smile and nodded seriously, Guilliman adjusted his mentality that was a little disturbed by Morgan, and pushed open the iron door in front of him: Jonson The location he was standing at was closer than he thought.

Only five or six meters away, these two blood brothers were looking at each other.

"Morgan, Guilliman."

Jonson was the first to speak. He held the hilt of the sword with one hand and supported the table with the other. He greeted them like a master. His eyes softened a little when he glanced at Morgan, but they were completely indifferent to Guilliman. vigilance: Although the Macragges are also heavily vigilant.

"Jonson."

Guilliman spoke solemnly, while Morgan just nodded casually: The genetic mother of Dawnbreaker did not step forward immediately, but retreated to an inconspicuous corner, quietly observing the two successful brothers. The low air pressure between them was so heavy that it could crush a mortal's spine.

In the end, it was the more civilized Guilliman who retreated first. He strode towards Jonson, seeming to be thinking about whether he should shake hands or hug him until his eyes glanced over Jonson's head. , but Guilliman's expression suddenly changed.

In a short time, his eyes passed over the top of Jonson's head, and then looked at the ground at Jonson's feet, as if he was measuring how tall his Caliban brother was. Then, he measured his own: After discovering that Jonson's height seemed to be steadily higher than his, the Lord of Macragge's already depressed face finally tightened.

He didn't seem to want to hug, or even get too close to Jonson.

A different kind of frustration surrounded him.

But unfortunately, the lion in front of him didn't intend to give him this opportunity.

Guilliman's little move was too obvious, even Jonson could observe where his eyes were and noticed why his face changed: in contrast to Guilliman, Jonson seemed very satisfied with this unexpected victory.

He grinned, revealing an extremely aggressive smile, and then without giving Guilliman any time to react, he strode forward and hugged his brother enthusiastically: in the moment when the lion rushed up, the Macragge man only had time to make one move.

What is Guilliman doing?

Morgan saw it clearly.

Oh...

——————

He is on tiptoe.

——————

"How ridiculous!"

"Is this the plan you came up with?"

"Are you targeting my legion, Jonson?"

"I'm not, Guilliman."

"Your plan doesn't think so!"

Guilliman snorted coldly. Except on the battlefield where swords were clashing, he rarely fell into such obvious rage: the demigod paced back and forth beside the strategic table, and the anger that had nowhere to vent made the [Sword and Rose] flag hanging on the ceiling tremble uneasily.

Who would have thought that it had been less than five minutes since he and Jonson had a somewhat awkward but definitely not hostile meeting: No, it should be said that in fact, everyone could have thought of this.

Especially when you stand next to them and witness the whole process of the two Primarchs greeting each other, exchanging awkward greetings, asking Jonson to bring up the topic of war, then taking out his battle plan, and finally Guilliman just taking a few glances and slamming the table.

And Morgan did all this.

She didn't say a word. When Jonson and Guilliman each occupied one end of the table and stood up to confront each other, the Spider Queen slumped on the soft chair on the side, stuck between the two people, but her slumped body was leaning towards Jonson.

"In essence, this is nothing more than a decapitation operation that requires crossing star zones."

"Just like the way we have always tried to deal with any greenskin force in the Great Crusade over the past hundred years, we sent some troops to tie up the greenskin army and create space for the decapitation troops to attack: some people will bleed and sacrifice silently, while others will grab the greatest honor."

"It's just that this time, the battlefield has moved from the planet to the void, becoming larger and requiring more blood: if you want to divert most of the greenskin main forces from here to Ullanor, my legion can do it if it gambles all its lives."

"Then, your Dark Angels can go directly to decapitate Ullanor."

"Is that right, Jonson?"

Guilliman smiled, tapped his fingers on the plan and the star map in turn, and looked at his brother fearlessly: when Jonson adjusted his breathing because of anger, the Macragge had read the plan again from beginning to end, and picked out twelve small problems that he had not noticed before.

"If I must say, you did choose a very [classic] way of fighting, brother."

"What do you think?"

A trace of annoyance trembled across Jonson's face.

"Or do you feel that the blood that is about to be shed is not worth the loss, Guilliman?"

"What do you mean?"

The hidden meaning of this sentence made Guilliman raise his eyebrows unhappily.

"What do you mean?"

The Lion King raised his head.

"You have dispatched such a huge force for this expedition that has nothing to do with you and you were not even called on. The number of people is larger than that of all other legions. Now, you are arguing over the plan that I proposed because it will cost your legion a certain amount of casualties without your own plan."

"What? Are you reluctant to let your warriors bleed and sacrifice in this war that [has nothing to do with the Five Hundred Worlds]: because these deaths cannot bring you new territories, nor can they make your Ultramar prosperous and strong?"

"..."

Guilliman breathed heavily, and his face quickly turned red.

"You are slandering me..."

"I am not slandering you, Guilliman."

Jonson smiled.

"I am just raising my doubts in a reasonable manner."

"Your groundless accusations against my war plan sound more like slander."

"..."

For some reason, the Lord of Macragge, who was originally furious, became quiet after hearing Jonson's counterattack: on his handsome face, he kept squeezing out all kinds of strange micro-expressions, as if he recalled the most recent unbearable memories, and finally stayed in a mixed state of helplessness and surprise.

This made Jonson a little confused.

Jonson looked at Morgan in silence, but Morgan's reaction was also...

[Puff...]

＃Avalon-style snicker＃

"Is there anything wrong with what I just said, Morgan?"

[No... Nothing...]

[Go on, Jonson. ]

Morgan turned her head, her entire upper body shaking with laughter.

The Lion King nodded suspiciously, and he looked at Guilliman again with an embarrassed look. When he found that his Macragge brother was still staring at his war plan, especially at the number of casualties that the Ultramarines might suffer, Jonson couldn't help but sigh quietly for this pettiness.

"Anyone is fine, why did you have to be dragged into this war?"

"If it is possible, I really don't want to work with you, Guilliman."

[...]

"..."

This time, it was not just Morgan.

Even Guilliman laughed.