Chapter 339 Ghoul

"They are transformed from the scum of hell, locked in armor, swords and smooth faces, and call themselves angels. They have been wearing masks for a long time, but they don't know that their cruelty and brutality have already oozed out like blood. - The Ninth Legion"

Nasir Amit saw the Primarch once.

It was at the end of a rebellion war, and it was not long after the blood gene was dormant in the Ghoul Legion.

This cursed gene bloodline gave them the nickname of their legion.

Ghoul.

The sons of the Ninth Legion have handsome faces and fair skin, and are meticulously crafted like masterpieces under the thoughts of a master craftsman.

Even Nasir Amit, who once did not have this elegant name taken casually from High Gothic, this mutant boy who was once dug out from the predicament created by the technological barbarians, this lowly mutant human with no culture and no character, who lived on the flesh and blood of other weak people, was transformed by the pharmacist's cruel transformation and transformed into a noble warrior with impeccable appearance, even more exquisite than most legions, and possessed an unforgettable beauty.

But this beauty is useless. They are basically a collection of exiles, captives and mutants, and what really established their terrible reputation is the behavior of wandering among the corpses on the battlefield after the war, drinking the blood and eating the flesh of the dead.

They gracefully lie on the ground, tearing off the blood vessels and muscles of the dead, prying open the skull protecting the brain, and feasting on its contents as a feast to satisfy the particularly developed genetic detection nerves for blood food.

They have brilliant looks, but are covered in blood. They are thrown into the most dangerous war zones, consumed in the fierce battles, and turned into monsters more terrifying than their opponents.

No matter how perfect their looks are, they are eclipsed in the blood.

This is the mission given to them by the Emperor, and this is one of the Emperor's plans.

After the rumored return of the Iron Warriors Primarch Perturabo to Terra for the first time, their genetic problems were miraculously alleviated, and their desire for flesh and blood was reduced and suppressed within the genetic spiral. They could have breathed a sigh of relief from their bloodthirsty brutality.

But the 9th Legion still plays the role of ghouls for the Emperor.

Because they are loyal to their mission, and because they have long been called ghouls, and the past cannot be changed.

Therefore, when Nasir Amit received support from the Imperial Fists after a fierce battle where he ate corpses to survive, he was indeed prepared to be criticized by the stone-hard Rogal Dorn, who was known for his outspokenness and stubbornness.

But Rogal Dorn did not.

"I want to hear your opinion, Ninth Legion," Rogal Dorn said, looking calmly at the beautiful face of the Ninth Legion's commander, "Why do you eat your enemies in blood? This is not in line with the concept of the Emperor's expedition."

"We won." Their legion commander Ossuran said, not knowing how to measure his words.

Ossuran had long planned to respond to the accusations of the tall, golden Primarch with the most concise and cold attitude, with disgust in his heart - disgust for himself.

He was ready to explain their cruel methods of destruction, and skillfully find hasty reasons for their brutal and alien-like behavior.

If Rogal Dorn reprimanded them, he could say all these words, then turn around and leave, uneasily returning to the "Gray Daughter" Glorious Queen-class battle barge, in the cold and boring gray warship, gnawing the flesh and blood of his dead brothers.

Rogal Dorn stared at him, then turned to his legion, with contemplation in his light blue eyes.

Amit waited for the Primarch to judge them behind the moral slogans advocated by the Great Crusade, so that they could end this farce earlier.

"You..." Rogal Dorn said in a deep voice, "I will not blame you. Because I can't change your situation."

Amit, like his battle brothers, looked up at the Primarch in the golden light in surprise.

"But I don't like you." He continued, his words rumbling like a rolling stone, straightforward and straightforward. "I can't stand your style, and I don't accept you drinking blood and eating flesh in front of me. So, you leave, and the Imperial Fists will take over this battle."

"Yes, Primarch." Ossuran's aggression had nowhere to be released, he said dryly, still unable to believe that the Primarch would let them go like this.

"I will not erase your merits," Rogal Dorn frowned, and then announced, "The military newspaper will record the actions of both sides truthfully. Loyal warriors, you can go."

After a brief thought, the Primarch of the Imperial Fists added: "Wait for your Primarch to return and let him teach you well."

After that, in the ossuary of the Gray Daughter, every time he chewed his brother's corpse and felt the memories and emotions stirring in his heart, Nasir Amit would always think of that unexpected day.

Let your Primarch discipline you. Rogal Dorn's words formed multiple echoes in his ears, through the hearing of every dead and once-present battle brother, overlapping in his memory, forming a scar that was almost a brand. Dorn's disgust was based on justice, which made it impossible for the Ghoul Legion to even excuse itself.

Then, he thought of the Primarch they had never met, and wondered what kind of person he was.

What if... what if their Primarch, like everyone else, looked down on his own Legion and despised their actions, what should they do? What if he rejected them and wanted to raise a new noble team, what should they do?

Or, at least, like Rogal Dorn by chance, he disliked them and simply tolerated them - a leniency enough for a Primarch they did not belong to, but not their genetic father.

After the Legion Master died several times - resurrected from his flesh-eating battle-brothers - Nasir Amit was given a second chance to meet the Primarch.

The battle that unfolded on Nisander was violent and swift, and the planet rejected the benevolent light of the Empire, and the ghouls descended upon the planet's surface. The desperate resistance of millions of people was fleeting under the attack of the Astartes, which gave all the struggle and pain an absurd quality that is not worth mentioning.

"We died in battle, but we defended our freedom." A prisoner spoke to them, which made Osuran so disgusted that he even stopped eating him. Maybe this was a trick the prisoner of war used to preserve his body.

Amit kills a man, tears off some muscle from the other person's body neither quickly nor slowly, and tastes the memory of the other person. The deceased bid farewell to his loved ones in his memory. Again. always like this.

The communication channel suddenly sent some information, which was completely unexpected, and the reason was not explained.

Horus Luperkar and his Luna Wolves descended on this destroyed planet.

"Immortal Nine, gather together." Legion Commander O'Suran gave the order coldly and tiredly, followed by a beacon at the gathering place.

Amit put down the body in front of him and interrupted the unfinished blood ritual. Why did the respected Son of the First Return come to the door?

Soon, Amit saw the Wolf Shepherd God. His armor was like pearls, his face was like a stone sculpture, and he was full of energy. Behind him is the transport plane of the empire, engraved with countless golden threads and documents, emphasizing the brilliance of the empire.

Horus Luperkar strode towards them, not hiding his observation and curiosity, nor showing any disgust at what they were doing. There was a more superficial joy that diluted the seriousness of Horus, and the wolfskin fluttered with the cloak on his shoulders.

"Are you Legion Commander Ishdur?" Horus said kindly, looking down at the leader of the Ninth Legion, "I have good news for you."

Osuran stood ready.

Horus did not care about the seriousness of the legion commander, and his words almost broke down the spiritual defense that the legion commander thought was extremely strong - in an unexpected way.

"Father found your Primarch," he said cheerfully, "Sanguinius of Baal. Originally, father wanted to let me take him to learn the knowledge of the Empire for a while, but he said he wanted to see his son now. ”

He shrugged his shoulders, "Clean up the battlefield and prepare on your ship, Immortal Nine. Follow the Luna Wolf and we will go to Baal."