Chapter 196: Travels in Macragge (1)

As the three Primarchs, Perturabo, Rogal Dorn, and Angron, and Archon Connor Guilliman, strolled through the maze-like corridors of the garden outside the Council Chamber, no one knew where Morse was, but Perturabo dared to say that he must be nearby.

Perhaps in another passage separated by a wall, or perhaps moving his invisible body through the neatly trimmed bushes. Wherever he was, his voice began to float around his ears from time to time through psychic energy, ineffectively testing the Primarch's ability to divide his mind.

+He is different from you. +Morse said, at this time Robert Guilliman had just taken a step from behind the dense bush wall, revealing a corner of the green laurel wreath on his head and a small piece of golden hair on his head outside the dark brown branches of the bush.

When this giant as tall as Perturabo appeared in front of him completely, the Iron Lord immediately guessed what characteristics Morse's vague description was referring to - youth.

Roboute Guilliman was younger than all three of them, his clean face, untouched by suffering, was filled with an innocent confidence, yet his gestures and movements showed a hint of shyness. A cobalt blue local dress wrapped around his slender body, like colorful satin wrapped around herbs and bouquets, transforming the Primarch's inherent alien features into an extraordinary beauty that could be admired by mortals.

Perturabo noticed a quick flash of pride in Archon Connor's eyes, which made Roboute Guilliman's feature have a clear reason.

+He is younger than us. + Perturabo said, listening to Connor and Euden introduce their son.

+Of course, you still think you are young? + Mors replied, his voice accurately conveyed in the psychic channel, +I remember that when you were his age, you almost sat through your naming ceremony because you couldn't push your heavy steel chair away while maintaining elegance. +

+Is that true? + Perturabo remained calm, +You remembered it wrong. +

+Although I am old and my memory is vague, some interesting things seem to have happened just yesterday and are unforgettable. +

Morse said, cutting off the psychic connection and leaning against the bushes to watch the first meeting of the Primarchs.

A blond leader seems to be incompatible with the cultural circle he lives in. Fortunately, Morse has always considered himself not to be a stubborn fundamentalist. Only when he really can't stand it - why are there palm trees planted in the Macragge Garden - will he involuntarily express a few words of opposition.

After knowing that he will need to take over tens of thousands of "sons" who fell from the sky in the future, Robert quickly recovered from his surprise. I think he successfully overcame the mental shock when he first heard about the military system established by the Emperor that was mixed with too many emotional factors, and put the military characteristics of the Space Marines at the forefront of a series of positioning adjectives.

Perhaps in his opinion, calling the general of the legion "father" is just a substitute for the word "general". As for the real father-son relationship... this is still too difficult for a primarch who is more than ten years old to imagine.

After chatting with Perturabo for a few more words, Robert's bright blue eyes flashed with more spirit. His adoptive parents looked at each other and tacitly left the space for conversation to their peers.

Morse followed the primarchs who crowded the originally not narrow garden path for a while, and listened to the three brothers and Robert Guilliman introduce the Emperor and his Sky Eagle banner.

Among these introducers, the most emotional one was Angron, who was so shaken by Robert's aristocratic temperament that his fingers hooked inward. Perturabo cooperated to answer Guilliman's questions, and Rogal Dorn remained moderately silent based on self-knowledge. In any case, the relationship between these reunited brothers can be called harmonious.

The craftsman listened for a while, then turned away, no longer paying attention to the scene of the brothers talking in the maze garden with many palm trees and swaying shadows under the breeze.

He found Connor Guilliman and Talasa Udon on a bench near the Council Chamber. It is worth mentioning that although they actually assumed the responsibilities of the father and mother of the Primarch, and worked together in the political whirlpool of Macragge for many years, they are not husband and wife.

Mors found a suitable way to appear. He appeared in the blind spot of the two people in the garden, and then walked to the bench opposite the two people, took up his black robe, and sat down comfortably.

"Perturabo told you about me," the craftsman said, "I am Mors, Perturabo's mentor. It's a pleasure to meet you."

The two Macragge people introduced themselves to him calmly, pretending that Mors did not suddenly appear from the sky.

"Why don't you come to participate in the family gathering tonight, Mr. Mors?" Udon asked. "Your child is waiting for you."

"You are not the first person to think that he and I are father and son." Mors said, "But believe me, the reason why I don't accept it is a little more complicated than you think."

He leaned forward slightly, observing the Archon and the Chamberlain in front of him, and listened to their thoughts secretly without hesitation. The two Macragge people were judging him from the perspective of Macragge people to visitors from strange planets, from the perspective of the locals to the so-called "Emperor of Mankind" messengers, and from the level of the Primarch's foster to another person with the same responsibilities. To Mors' surprise, the three evaluations he received were all good.

"You are excellent educators." Mors said, "So far, I have never seen a Primarch who still has a personality so close to humans."

"We could see it was the same with his brothers," Connaugh said with a smile.

"Oh, it's still different." Morse shrugged, smiling like a diplomat without interest. "You are actually afraid when you are surrounded by three Primarchs, Archon Conor. This is a warning from human nature. They are strong, tall, extraordinary minds, perfect, and the higher level of your species. Pioneers. Yes, they have a personality close to that of a human, but you all know it's different."

He relaxed his upper body, shifted his weight back, and sat down again: "This is what I find incredible. How did you manage to love Robert Guilliman and use him during those times when Robert Guilliman was still very different from human beings?" It’s the love parents have for their children.”

Connor was a little silent. Outside the Senate, he was not as talkative as the people of Macragge thought.

"You are also a nurturer, sir," Euton reminded.

Morse sighed. "This is still different. Considering that after a word is overly deconstructed and abused, language will lose the foundation of its existence. Sometimes I am still obsessed with the original definition of some words, such as human beings, and I happen to be obsessed with human beings. There has been no attachment to my identity from the beginning... Well, I’m just here to chat.”

His real question lingered in his throat several times before it was finally asked relatively directly.

"I think you have the ability to choose other education methods," he said, "but you put a genetically engineered creature in a mask with a human face. Why reinforce this misalignment?"

Ms. Euton's expression became serious. Even if she didn't mean to do so, if she hadn't been facing Morse, she would have felt an invisible and powerful pressure. She is based on Macragge and relies on the power that comes with ability. This trait profoundly changes and shapes her.

"He's our boy, sir. Don't call him that," Euton said, slightly warningly.

"I think I need to emphasize that the word 'creation' in my mouth is not derogatory. For professional reasons, I even prefer artificial things to natural things." Morse spread his left palm, "It seems that we are on this topic. There are too many differences.”

"We are human beings, and we have never learned to raise children in the same way as other species." Connaught joined the conversation warmly.

"Okay, okay." Morse gave up fighting the two fathers and mothers.

Unless the subject of the debate can attract his extra attention, he often doesn't like to start a deep debate with others on a certain topic - that means carefully chosen words, a confrontation of invisible swords and a meaningless victory. Or fail, after all, he will not change himself because of verbal exchange of thoughts.

"I also don't want to see Robert Guilliman at the door tomorrow asking us to leave Macragge immediately, so that I will receive an immediate reprimand from the Emperor. He'd better find someone who can do diplomacy to collect him next time "Children." Morse said, "By the way, I guess no one has talked to you in detail about the human empire and the emperor?"

Connor nodded. "We are willing to listen to your explanation."

Two printed gold-covered manuals fell from Morse's open hands: "For battle-hardened politicians, we can't finish discussing the questions you can ask until the dinner. Fortunately, I have previously written a book on Alien In my spare time, I have started writing the Black Book of the Human Empire. You can read it directly as my speech."

——

"...This road is named after the city of Salem," Robert Guilliman waved his hand in the air, and the cobalt blue robe he was wearing billowed and flapped with his movements, becoming translucent in the sunlight. "That city used to be in the middle of the planet Macragge and was famous for its high-quality fruit wine. It is said that the city was composed of thousands of small islands. It had plenty of sunshine, the climate was maintained at a level suitable for the human body all year round, and people lived in small groups. , and never became involved in the dispute until the island gradually sank and the local residents were forced to evacuate to neighboring land.”

"In Olympia, the country famous for its winemaking is Ax." Perturabo said, "I have only been there once. The people of Ax drink a lot of strong alcohol and their folk customs are quite strong. Now under the influence of the planet tyrant Carifon Under its governance, the level of public security ranks first on the planet.”

Angron turned to look at Guilliman in the middle: "Nukeria is growing potatoes. Maybe they will make wine from them."

Rogal Dorn followed behind in a muffled voice, putting his hand on the golden skull on his waist and trying to remove it several times. However, considering that the taste of Invite's wine was not as good as the Olympia wine that Perturabo once shared with him, he thought it would be better to wait until a few people talked about special high-sugar and high-fat foods before joining the conversation. choose.

"Have you brought wine on board your ship?" Guilliman said enthusiastically, "We can share it with each other at the dinner. Although Salem has sunk, Macragge still has other cities with good wines."

"There are still two bottles that have not been opened, but it is too late to pick them up at this time." Perturabo said, "Within a month of waiting for your army to arrive, we can find another opportunity to share them."

Guilliman could only nod. At the dinner when he first met his brothers, any method that could further bring them closer was worth adopting, which would have a long-lasting and subtle impact on the harmonious relationship between the two parties in the future - these details slipped silently from his heart.

When his brain, which could think countless times per second, realized his deliberateness in that moment, Guilliman was briefly annoyed for a moment. He did not want the invisible rules within Macragge's councilors and nobles to contaminate the sincere dialogue between him and his blood brothers.

"Okay. We will be ready to welcome the Space Marines in the next time, and we will prioritize improving the supply system." Guilliman put down his hand and moved it from Perturabo, who had a very different shape from the robe he was wearing on his right. Opening his eyes, he was a little curious about Angron's outfit that combined brown leather armor and red fabric.

His memory told him that this costume would only appear in two places in Macragge today: one is the dressing room of theater actors, and the other is the museum of the gladiatorial arena.

"In this city we are in, we have the largest historical museum on the planet Macragge." Guilliman said, "For thousands of years, we have collected fragments of various old night histories and recorded them. History created by ourselves. For example, decades ago, we banned Macragge’s last arena. The backward and barbaric elements of this culture will interfere with the health and vitality of Macragge’s cultural development today. It only remains in museums as a warning and admonishment given to us by history.”

Angron listened silently.

Having said this, he regained his energy: "My father Connuo is pushing for a reform of the Senate discussion system and even the entire Macragge administrative system, such as curbing land annexation and stipulating the amount of land held by each household. , and uniformly arrange the extra land to be distributed to the foreign alliance and the poor people of Macragge. In addition, my father also proposed to distribute the excess food sent to Macragge from the agricultural planet to the citizens at a low price, and expand the granary... … I always believed that our museum would build a new gallery for him.”

“This is going to be a series of big, long-term reforms,” Perturabo said, immediately hearing the potential. In fact, he had promoted many similar changes in his youth - of course, this was after he took control of Lokos's army.

"If there is no intention to use coercive military force, it will take decades to implement and implement it. But if you trust my architectural design capabilities, then I - and Roger Dorn can jointly participate in the local museum expansion work ."He said.

"It doesn't take so long. My ability is enough to shorten this time span several times. I have calculated that within five to ten years, Macragge will enter a new stage."

After Robert Guilliman finished saying this, he noticed that Perturabo had a strange look in his eyes.

"But you are joining the Great Crusade in a month, my brother. Have you not begun to envision your departure?"