"No, you can't go down with me."
"But I don't have to go to class now."
"You have eight hours until class resumes, don't you?"
The hissing Nostramo sounded again in a room on the Emperor's Dream. After a period of silence, Conrad Coates nodded reluctantly.
"But I want to help you." He said with the last hope.
Khalil didn't answer. He just looked at Conrad Coates without saying a word. Facing his gaze, Konrad Coates gradually lowered his head.
"I don't want to say that you 'should' do something, Conrad. But you and I actually know that the most important thing you should do now is study, right?"
"I just want to go on patrol..."
"I've already said hello to them for you." Khalil said calmly. "I've said hello to you from number one to the broken horn you haven't numbered yet."
The pale giant's head jerked up—he was still smaller than Khalil, which had never happened before, but it seemed fitting.
"Really?" he asked quietly.
"I didn't lie to you, did I?"
Khalil smiled slightly, walked forward, and opened the door to Conrad Coates' room. The conversation ended there, and their final exchange was without words.
Through the door, Midnight Ghost stared at him for a while.
Across the door, Khalil nodded calmly.
The door closed softly.
The carving of a double-headed eagle stood on it instead of Konrad Curze, staring coldly at Khalil. He stared back with the same attitude, but was a little curious as to why the Emperor would use the double-headed eagle as the symbol of the empire.
Unfortunately, the answer to this question can only be found later. He hasn't had time to study lately, and the Emperor's Dream...
From the stares around those corners, Khalil knew he was not welcome.
Turning around, he planned to leave. But a giant in golden armor stopped him at the next corner.
His armor was more impressive than that of his equally proud companions, with fluttering eagles waiting menacingly on the massive pauldrons. He was not wearing a helmet, and a calm face waited quietly under it.
Khalil raised an eyebrow.
No weapons.
He noticed this.
"So... it was his invitation?"
"No." The calm giant shook his head. "Our Lord is thinking at the moment. He will not see anyone during this time."
"Do you always talk like this?"
"This is High Gothic."
"That's what I said." Khalil chuckled. "But what you're using seems a bit older... It's interesting how just a little grammatical difference can make a language more difficult to pronounce."
"Of course."
The giant nodded calmly and stretched out his hand: "But this is not the purpose of my coming tonight - Marshal of the Imperial Guard, Constantine Waldo, salute you, Khalil Lohars."
Khalil reached out and shook his hand. Every detail of the golden armor was slowly felt in his palm, the coldness and delicacy and the slow hum beneath it.
He memorized them all.
The brief courtesy ended here, and in the splendid place that was dozens of times wider than the conventional corridor, Constantine Waldo began to talk.
"You are trying to transform that... planet." The Forbidden Army Marshal paused, seeming to swallow an adjective.
The pause did not escape Khalil's keen senses, and he smiled. "I guess you want to use a bad adjective in front of Nostramo."
"Indeed." The Forbidden Army Marshal nodded, his expression still calm. "But I won't say it in front of you."
"It doesn't matter, it's dirty, hateful and doesn't deserve to be saved. I'm not going to be angry because someone exposed it."
"...Anyway, Khalil Lohars, you are doing something nearly impossible."
"I know."
"Then why don't you give up?"
Sincere tone, sincere face - not a sarcastic question, nor some deliberate irony.
Good, Khalil thought.
"Because I have to."
he said, his voice very soft. "You also said that it is almost impossible to accomplish, but it is not really impossible. And even if the chance is only one percent, I will try it."
"The odds are probably 0.1 percent."
Constantine Valdo frowned. "I don't think you are unaware of this, Khalil Lohars. The Lord trusts you very much, which means you are far from a fool. And based on what we have observed of you over the past few days, I am convinced that , you are intellectually superior."
"Superior intelligence? This is an adjective I have never heard of..."
"Intelligence and wisdom cannot be confused. I don't know if you are intelligent, but your intelligence must be beyond that of most humans in this galaxy."
Constantine Valdo shook his head again: "This means that you can clearly understand what the current situation of Nostramo really means. Its only value to the empire is those minerals."
"Otherwise, it has nothing to offer the Empire. The Eighth Legion will soon arrive. They are the sons of Terran criminals, many of whom are criminals themselves."
"And Nostramo is too scary a place even for them. Trust me, if what you want to do is make this a recruiting planet, you won't succeed, Terran. There will be strong opposition.”
"What you say is interesting, but I don't intend for Nostramo to become a recruiting planet - strong people are either nobles or gang members. Can these people also join the Eighth Legion? ?”
Khalil laughed. "I have read the information, and I know what kind of killing machine those transformation surgeries can turn a person into. Therefore, the people who enter the legion are either a blank slate or a person of noble character. Nobles and gangs have neither. "
Constantine Valdo's brows began to frown more and more.
"So you know," he said doubtfully.
"Yes, I know - and I can't do anything to the Eighth Legion. The Lord of the Eighth Legion is currently in his room preparing to rest. He is the one who can give orders to this Legion."
Khalil replied with a smile.
The way he talked about it made the Admiral of the Imperial Guard realize something, and the latter quickly changed the subject after a brief silence.
"... Khalil Lohars, I have one last question for you," he whispered.
"Speak, Marshal of the Imperial Guard."
"My Lord has received you alone."
The Admiral of the Imperial Guard spoke slowly.
"When he came to this planet, the first thing he did was not to see his son, but to talk to you alone. And after that, he gave you a huge right. I don't think you There's going to be abuse of it, but you need to know the full picture."
He stared into Khalil's eyes.
"This power is terrifying. I have seen countless heroes and people of noble character rot in it, turning into the most despicable form they once had, and the power they hold is not even one-tenth of yours."
"I won't question my lord, and I don't think he can recognize people. But, Khalil Lohars, you need to be careful."
The Marshal of the Custodes said solemnly and solemnly: "Power is a poison, Khalil Lohars, don't let it poison you."
"You are the most confusing person I have ever seen in my life. You were born on a remote, nightmarish planet, but you have impeccable morals. You even possess an unexplainable power - my Lord trusts you. , so we will also trust you..."
He lowered his head and his voice became deeper.
"I hereby ask you not to live up to it."
After a brief silence, Khalil spoke softly.
"I don't think I can make any promises to you, Marshal Constantine. It's too early to say that now, isn't it?"
"I can't promise you that I won't live up to it. Because I don't know where the boundaries of this trust are, and everyone has different ideas. One day, I may do something that none of you can understand... ..."
He stopped talking and smiled softly under the gaze of the Admiral of the Imperial Guard.
"So - that's it, Marshal Constantine Valdo. There is only one guarantee I can give you."
"Speaking."
"I won't turn into a dragon." Khalil said lowly. "Because I already have a sword hanging above my head."
------------------
"What's this?"
"a knife."
"I know it's a knife, Ferus - but my question is, what is it?"
Fulgrim looked at the sharp blade resting peacefully between his brother's hands in shock, and whispered: "Whose weapon is this?"
"Conrad's."
"You built it?!"
"Of course not... I can only build weapons."
Ferrus raised his head and glanced at the Chemos. He could see the latter's expression completely, so the corners of his mouth quietly curved.
"And the knife was clearly not a weapon," he said. "It goes beyond a weapon... It reminds me of certain mythical and legendary weapons."
As he spoke, he raised his hand and held the weapon with his right hand. It fit quietly into his palm, not exactly welcomingly.
Ferus groaned noncommittally.
"...It's really interesting," he whispered.
"interesting?"
"Yeah, interesting...if only Vulkan were here."
"Hey!"
"I didn't say that your forging skills are not as good as his. Both you and I know this is a fact - but since you are not going to rest, come over and help me."
"What?"
"Come and help me, Fulgrim," Ferrus repeated. "I need to make a proper grip for it...I can make it strong, but not necessarily beautiful, so I need your help."
"Ha! Do you still need Vulcan at this time?"
"..."
Ferus said nothing, just sighed.
