It is regarded as a useless waste, the statues of gods occupy the theater, and the scriptures cover up the academic world... How is this world different from death? 】

The Lord of Steel raised his head high, as if he deliberately did not want mortals to see it.

And his brother, Magnus, why would he want to leave a mortal here?

Is this a demonstration? A kind of showing off? Does he really not know the excellence of this mortal? Did he really just act unintentionally when he arranged for this mortal to stay here?

Was Magnus mocking? His offspring? His Legion? Or... mocking him, the Primarch of the Iron Warriors?

——————

Perturabo interrupted her, and he was quiet for a while, until the final electronic sound came, which meant the end of today's work - and a short break.

Heavy breathing.

She could feel that when her footsteps and eyes were surrounding these works of art and semi-finished products, the working rhythm of the Primarch standing in front of the workbench was slightly disturbed, just like a real lion.

After witnessing the ignorant little beast stepping into his own country.

This reasoning lasted for a short time, and then he heard the sound of high-heeled boots stepping on the marble floor. His superhuman perception loyally fed back to him the movements of the owner of the sound, and when he realized where she was going

At that moment, the hair on Perturabo's neck moved involuntarily.

The silver-haired female official crossed her fingers and placed them on her chin.

[Excuse me, Your Excellency, I just...]

As he watched her walking there, he felt something familiar, which reminded him of something.

[But isn’t that exactly what a world without art and aesthetics is like? 】

"I can easily own these so-called arts. Countless sculptors and painters have gained superiority because of my patronage. With a snap of my fingers, their so-called arts will become my praises, even if those achievements never existed.

"

"No!"

[Talia Clone], this name was written on the manuscript paper that was pressed down by the model.

Then, he saw Morgan's smile.

But just when she was about to close her eyes and let herself rest for a while, Perturabo's cold tone came from the side.

"Leave it to me, you can go... rest."

It was only then that Morgan seemed to wake up from a dream. She lowered her head and realized that she had offended a Primarch.

But this kind of complete self-movement can neither bring applause from the outside world nor relieve his emotions, so his anger will accumulate again, waiting for the next explosion, over and over again, until those calmness and sensibility are worn away.

All that is left is a tyrant who is always angry and resentful.

——————

Then, he pointed to the seat next to him and spoke in a commanding tone.

"sit down."

He said.

"go on."
Chapter completed!