"Can you explain what is happening before us, my brother Magnus?"

"One mistake, Perturabo, that's all."

"The mortal you trust most is experiencing pain. Even in the chaos of Dawn Star, she has never been in such a miserable state, and you only intend to use the word "mistake" to ignore this?"

Magnus was silent for a moment, seeming to consider how to answer.

Finally, he spoke, but his words contained a completely different cold analysis than before.

"There are three flaws in your words, my brother, and I will point them out."

"First of all, you are right. Morgan is indeed one of the most important mortals in my legion. I value her second only to my children. So, please don't use such an accusatory tone, Petula.

Beau, I am also very anxious, and I am also very concerned about her situation."

"Secondly, don't look at all problems from your personal perspective. My brother, Morgan is the senior advisor of the Fifteenth Legion (emphasis added). How did she perform on the Dawn Star and what she encountered? I am better than you.

It is clearer that in that dead world, she encountered some worse situations and problems. She is not as fragile as you think, Perturabo, she is a strong, determined, and trustworthy warrior.

"

"In the end, none of us want to do this. Maybe there is my reason for this, but I definitely did not stand idly by. My brother, I once took Morgan and my unfortunate heirs deep into the vast ocean. I

I personally found a solution to each of their soul dilemmas, and I ensured that each of them received complete treatment, whether it was my heir or Morgan, I witnessed the restoration of their souls with my own eyes."

The Primarch was talking, but his descendants stood aside, confused and even frightened by what they witnessed was such a strange scene.

Magnus was silent for a while, until the uneasy atmosphere accumulated in the room so much that Attava found it difficult to breathe.

Magnus showed his patience as he watched Morgan slowly taste the wine, sip after sip, glass after glass...

"I won't beat around the bush, Ms. Morgan. I hope you can join the Thousand Sons Legion's special detachment. As one of the legion's representatives, go to the front line to fight Ran Dan. I will give you the status of a liaison officer. This is a more biased approach.

in the command post, not in a front-line position."

"I'm not as wealthy as you, Perturabo. I can only send a hundred people. Ahriman will lead the team, and Ms. Morgan will serve as the team's auxiliary officer."

So, when Morgan regained consciousness, what she saw was two Primarchs and an Astartes standing at the edge of the room.

Morgan fell silent for a while before choosing to speak with difficulty.

[No, it’s just a simple out-of-control power. Although ten days have passed, I still haven’t fully digested and sorted out the healing power you gave me. It occasionally rages in my brain for a while - making you laugh.

,Your Mightiness.】

"Perhaps it's just a relapse of an old injury. You know, Perturabo, when we fill in a chasm, there will always be fine stones and dust falling out. To us and our heirs, it may be nothing.

, but it is still too heavy for mortals.”

This sentence was like a provocation, but Perturabo laughed. He opened his mouth, as if he wanted to say something to prove, but it was at this time that three pairs of ears heard Morgan's murmur of awakening at the same time.

.

"They can assist each other with your detachment."

The Lord of Steel's voice was like two pieces of real steel grinding against each other.

"Then why do you have to choose your way? Magnus, have you ever thought that for mortals, or anything in the world, your psychic power is not a magic weapon that can be tried and tested, it is only suitable for

To the narrow realm familiar to you and your heirs."

"Do you remember our conversation just now, brother?"

Morgan thought so.

Morgan glanced at Magnus, and then turned her gaze back to Perturabo: when her gaze just arrived, she seemed to feel that she had some contact with the Lord of Steel's gaze.

, but when she blinked her eyes to confirm, she found that Perturabo's head was facing away from her.

"So, you want to send five thousand people?"

As he spoke, a medal was placed in the center of the table by the Primarch. Morgan looked at it for a while and accepted it.

Perturabo's compliments were rare.

"Which sentence are you referring to?"

Then, he saw Perturabo turn around and walk in front of Magnus with heavy steps. The Lord of Steel moved his eyes to Morgan, but was unwilling to look at her. Then

, Perturabo looked at his brother.

Magnus listened carefully, and then he showed a gentle smile. The red skin of the original gene wrinkled, like a layer of volcanic magma that was rolled up in a swirl.

Perturabo's tone suddenly rose, making his words seem like a roar, rushing back and forth in the small conference room like a whirlwind.

"Then take this seriously!"

While Magnus greeted his poor heir Atava to sit down, he turned his head and looked at Morgan.

"With the attitude of you and your heirs, I have reason to doubt this. My brother Magnus, you are too dependent on this kind of magic of unknown origin. I even doubt whether you have really paid attention to the medical team you have.

, and have you really tested their abilities with emergencies, instead of leaving everything to the subspace."

What happened next was hilarious.

Perturabo said this, and then took out a document from his own and forcefully stuffed it into the list of people he had just classified.

"Just a few words... a good comment. Our understanding of this enemy is only a few words. Just like most species in this galaxy, we have completely eliminated them before we fully understood them.

Already."

Perturabo's reaction was even more interesting. Atava witnessed the strange behavior of the Lord of Steel with his own eyes: when he discovered that Morgan was gradually waking up, Perturabo's face that was originally slightly ferocious because of the debate suddenly changed.

It froze, and his smile that was about to appear also stayed on his face for a short time, forming a somewhat scary and funny expression. This face was fleeting, and when Morgan opened his eyes, the Man of Steel

The face of the Lord has returned to its indifference and indifference.

With these words, Perturabo turned his head back as if he was quite condescending. He first glanced at Morgan expressionlessly, and then immediately turned his gaze to Magnus.

——————

But Atava no longer has the time or energy to express all this, because his thoughts have been occupied by the weird speech of his genetic father. He does not understand why Magnus has to speak in such a posture and tone.

His remarks, in his impression, the Lord Prospero has never been a character like a chapter list or a walkie-talkie. He prefers to speak with emotion and philosophical short sentences rather than listing ruthless regulations.

Morgan could feel Perturabo's glare on her, but when she raised her head, the Lord of Steel's eyes quickly left, leaving only Magnus's laughter and questions.

"How's it going?"

My genetic father seemed to be hesitating, showing some kind of scholar's unique timidity that was unwilling to take the primary responsibility and the focus of conflicts.

Magnus waited patiently for a while, until his consciousness could sense that the silver-haired mortal female officer in front of him had completely sorted out his thoughts, and then the Primarch slowly took a step forward.

"If you need anything, you can..."

"Five thousand and thirty people."

This is probably the most wonderful and at the same time the most terrifying self-misunderstanding in the world.

The last sentence seems to have been added temporarily.

Perturabo always thought that he was a calm and rational figure, who would neither interfere too much with others nor criticize anything in the world based on his own ideas.

In my knowledge and impression, he never bothered to do this.

Morgan shook his head.

"I will do this, Perturabo, if necessary, I will indeed do this. The affiliated departments of the Thousand Sons Legion have a complete medical system, and no one needs to worry about this."

"The selection of my legion personnel has been completed."

Magnus leaned on his arms, as if he didn't want to study the issue too closely. He frowned, a little entangled in the next words.

"He was like this before."

Magnus's smile became more sincere.

The Iron Lord left, but the dialogue between the Primarch and the mortals continued.

Atharva watched the Lord of Steel look vaguely at his brother and the mortal, and then quickly withdrew his gaze after being discovered. The Thousand Sons warrior moved his neck unnaturally, only hoping that Perturabo would really

Forgot his own existence.

It started again.

"But Ran Dan is different. It's more difficult. It's not a big or small problem. The First Legion even lost the Queen of Glory in the war with it. But now, they are back again, and the war will not stop.

, it will only burn more violently.”

But soon, this doubt disappeared, because the Thousand Sons warrior saw a magical scene: with Magnus's words, the anger of the Lord of Steel was visibly extinguished.

Atava is a person who sees everything clearly. He stood at the edge of this small conference room and could clearly see the movements of the two Primarchs: Magnus was obviously frightened by this sudden awakening.

, he quietly moved away, as if he was a little worried about how much his remarks just now were heard.

"You can refuse. This is human nature. I would rather hear your true thoughts than false promises."

"Well, you can certainly question the professionalism of the Prosperos under my command. My brother, I will not be offended by this. After all, advice always needs to be respected, no matter what it actually says.

What."

Perturabo has personally selected a group of sons as representatives of the legions he sent to the Randan front line, as a facade to show the capabilities of the Lord of Steel and the Fourth Legion, while the remaining sons of Perturabo have to rely on themselves

use their strength to fight for the only remaining spots: Although the prize is so dangerous, every descendant of Perturabo still uses all his strength to fight for victory in the hope of gaining the favor of the father of genes. This is really
To be continued...