Few people know that the banquet hall of the Nightfall is actually transformed from three rooms connected in series - which of course does not comply with any standards. Therefore, the company commanders held many meetings to decide whether to do this. .
Fair was the one who voted no every time.
At that time, he did not think that a building like the banquet hall would be of any help to the Nightfall and the Eighth Legion. This view was completely overturned after a cooperation with the Ultramarines.
Since then, Fer Zalost's vote has been in favor.
As a result, the only banquet hall on the Night Veil was built. Although it was accomplished by knocking down walls and removing electrical circuits and pipes, at least they had a banquet hall.
And now.
Sitting on a long table, Feier carefully wiped his left fingernail with a cloth soaked in engine oil.
He executed so many people tonight that his gauntlets were stained with too much blood that he shouldn't have.
Originally, this kind of simple work was usually left to the servitors. Although no one likes to maintain their own armor, it is still a bit strange to sit in the banquet hall and do this.
But what can Feier do?
As soon as the trial ended, the Eighth Legion returned to the Night Veil without stopping.
The order given by their primarch did not include the intention of staying on Nostramo, as to why they returned to the banquet hall.
That's of course because the party hasn't officially ended yet.
"Are you really not going to eat some nutritious porridge, Company Commander?"
".I don't really want to talk to you right now, Adebeman."
"why?"
His former adjutant leisurely raised a metal spoon, and the steaming nutritious porridge that was so thick that it completely covered the spoon started a chemical reaction on it.
He did it on purpose. Feyre thought angrily.
Everyone knows that if the nutritious porridge is not eaten quickly within half a minute of contact with metal products, it will solidify on the spoon due to high temperature and a series of subsequent reactions, and become part of that spoon.
"You'd better not waste food in front of me." Fair said in a low voice. “The work of chefs should not be wasted.”
"I know, company commander, but don't you want to talk to me?"
Adebiman grinned and ate the nutritious porridge. While chewing, there was a dull sound coming from his mouth.
"When this is over, I have to throw you into the cage."
Feier said dangerously, and at the same time shook his left hand. The gauntlet covered with machine oil was shining now and no longer looked like it was stained with blood.
"No one in the third company can beat me in the cage, company commander." Adebeman laughed softly. "You probably haven't forgotten this, right, former third company commander? Or is it that leaving office has made you forget some things that you shouldn't forget?"
With a sullen face, Feier lifted up the cloth soaked in engine oil, and then threw it on Adebeman's face.
He did this with such determination and speed that Adebiman even froze for several seconds. And when he took off the cloth angrily, his company commander was already holding a bowl of nutritious porridge and eating it, his movements were very natural.
"Childish revenge." The adjutant of the third company said coldly.
"As childish as you are," Feier replied with a sneer. "You have been teasing me about my resignation for the past two days. Adebeman, do you think you are not naive?"
"."
"Yes, I know you are resentful about this matter, and so are others, but the other lieutenants are not as over-the-top as you, Adebiman. The original body has already planned to resolve this matter at a meeting with us tomorrow, so you don't want to ——”
"——I must, Captain."
The adjutant of the Third Company of the Eighth Legion held his spoon tightly and spoke slowly in the crowded banquet hall.
"If it weren't for you, I would have died thirteen years ago. If it weren't for you, the seventy-three brothers who were in that bunker with us would also have died. You saved us, Fel Zalost, so You became our company commander."
"Therefore, if you are to step down without a word, the last forty-one veterans of the Third Company will not hesitate to lead their new recruits against you, and we will ask your opinion before every battle. If you do not release If you give the order, we won’t attack.”
"Nonsense!" Feier growled. "War is a piece of cake! And the original body has already said that we will not let us step down!"
"That's because of the kindness and wisdom of the Primarch." Adbeman said softly. "Because he knew what would happen. Company commander, you betrayed us yesterday. I hope you will not forget this."
Feier was stunned. He never thought that he would hear the word betrayal from his adjutant.
At this moment, he felt like he was struck by lightning. Then, he turned his head and looked around the long table - this table was full of people belonging to the third company, but no one looked at him.
Whether veterans or recent recruits.
Everyone - all looked away at the moment his eyes swept across.
"I" Feier's lips trembled. "I didn't betray."
"Maybe, but you forget that you saved us all," his lieutenant said seriously. "As for now, company commander, you should eat quickly. The nutritional porridge is getting cold, and the original body is here too."
What he said was true.
Feir suppressed his emotions and began to eat the nutritious porridge quickly with a spoon. At the same time, he turned around and searched for traces of their original body in the banquet hall that became silent.
His eyesight had always been excellent, so he quickly saw their primarch.
——
Conrad Coates didn't know how he got to the ballroom door—his mind was in turmoil as he did so. He just arrived here based on instinct and memory, nothing more.
Khalil's words almost shattered him completely, and what was worse was that he couldn't even bring himself to be angry with Khalil.
He knew, just like before, that Khalil was right.
Thinking of this, he frowned in annoyance. Although it was only for a moment, Conrad Coates still firmly remembered this anger against himself.
Khalil was right. he said to himself. You shouldn't go to him to get his approval, you should come and meet your legion first.
Pursing his lips, he opened the door and walked into the banquet hall.
There was an instant silence in the hall that had been bustling with people before. Twenty thousand pairs of eyes stared at their original body either brightly or heavily. Konrad Coates smiled slightly and threw all the emotions in his heart into a box in an instant. inside.
He would taste them when he was alone, but not now.
Now, he is the leader of the Eighth Legion.
"I want to thank you."
He stood in front of the door and spoke loudly without using the machine that could amplify the sound. "You have done what I failed to do, my Legion. You have tonight lifted many of the heavy dark clouds that have been hovering over Nostramo."
He paused for a moment and looked around, making eye contact with everyone who saw him and gazing at each other.
"Thank you." He said sincerely.
There was no answer, only silence. The judges of the Eighth Legion looked at a loss and could not sit still.
Some people's hands holding the nutritious porridge began to tremble, and some people who were drinking bland beer suddenly took it into their mouths and forgot to swallow it.
The air filter installed in the banquet hall is working quietly, and the slightly fragrant air is continuously overflowing from the ground. However, for some reason, the main atmosphere here seems to be only a strange embarrassment.
——And this embarrassing person also includes Conrad Coates.
He stood motionless in front of the door, hoping for a reaction.
But those heirs who were still looking at him before now formed a strange tacit understanding. Everyone lowered their heads in unison, as if they had a communication channel except Conrad Coates. .
After a long time, a voice sounded. A man with high cheekbones and a fierce face stood up. It was Captain VanCleef, a man who had even dared to dissuade their Primarch not to participate in this trial.
"You shouldn't thank us."
He said this with an emphasis on the honorific.
"As Primarch of the Eighth Legion, it is only natural that you lead us."
"Furthermore, even excluding this matter, the trial of Nostramo is already within the scope of our responsibilities. The Eighth Legion was reshaped by the Emperor and taken away from Terra as the judge of sin. Therefore. You should not thank us, your gratitude is "
He took a deep breath.
"...is torturing us."
Conrad Curze heard someone gasping for air in horror.
And Van Cleef was still continuing. The skin on his face and cheeks had begun to tremble, but he just didn't stop.
"You can't thank us," he said solemnly and seriously. "Unless we do something you don't expect."
Konrad Coates did not respond to his words immediately. He fell into deep thought. This kind of thinking came so coincidentally and so timely. After a moment, he smiled bitterly.
What did I do? Just finished being trained by Khalil, and then being taught a lesson by his own company commander
"You're right, Van Cleef." Conrad Curze nodded. "I really shouldn't thank you, I want to apologize for this - but you don't seem to want to accept my apology now."
He laughed quietly, with a hint of bitterness in his expression.
Van Cleef actually had a lot to say before this moment, but after he saw the complex expression of the original body, all these words were forgotten.
To make matters worse, his lieutenant even started gesturing at him across the table with the slit-throat salute.
"."
Van Cleef decided to pretend he saw nothing.
"Then, let's continue with the party," Conrad Coates said. "I want to celebrate, celebrate for you, and you should be happy that you did a great job tonight. You should celebrate too - so let the party begin again!"
He declared, walked into the banquet hall, raised his right hand, picked up a bottle of beer belonging to someone else from the nearest table, raised his head, and began to drink the unfamiliar liquid.
The soldier puffed up his chest excitedly, as if he had received some great honor.
As for his brothers.
Well, the gnashing of teeth isn't evident in the cheers, is it?
——
Khalil sighed softly.
"I can't teach you anything, Siani," he said. "My mastery of hand-to-hand combat comes from my familiarity with human tissue and structure. This dangerous technique is not suitable for use in sparring."
"But you achieved 1,233 consecutive victories that day."
Khalil was silent. After all, he still didn't say that he was actually using his reaction and strength to fight them yesterday - if he really said this out loud, it would be a bit too hurtful.
"And I - Siani of Terra!"
The warrior standing opposite him proudly puffed up his chest. Although his body was covered with bruises from being beaten, he could still speak with a loud voice. "I must learn your techniques! Khalil Lohars!"
".All right."
"ha!"
Siani let out a short laugh, then rushed over again. Khalil sighed, forcing himself to stop his instinct to fight back, and instead let Siani take six steps to take him down to the ground again.
He was extremely cautious throughout the entire process. But to Siani and the people outside the ring, that was not the case.
"Okay!" Lying on the ground, Siani bared his teeth and shouted. "Six steps! I've made progress!"
"Siani! Siani! Siani!" The Eighth Legion Astartes in the audience also shouted with him. "Siani of Terra! Siani of Terra!"
Lying on the ground, the young warrior laughed heartily. Khalil also smiled, but it wasn't obvious.
He shook his right hand and began to laugh at his behavior in his heart.
In just one day, you have mastered your acting skills to this extent? You are such a hypocrite, Khalil Lohars.
"How's it going?" Siani climbed up and asked with a grin on his face. "Has it exceeded your expectations? How have I improved compared to yesterday?"
Khalil didn't answer, just chuckled and shook his head.
His move of not knowing what to say was interpreted by Siani as a rejection, who frowned and took on a serious attitude.
"I know that if you really tell me, I might not be able to hold on for even one second. But at least I have made progress, right? On a purely technical level?"
"Of course, Siani," Khalil said. "Although I know nothing about technology, you have indeed made progress."
He didn't lie, it was true - although the six steps Siani of Terra took to approach him had elements of his letting off steam, that kind of strange self-taught step was not something that could be done with just one or two sentences. Clearly explained.
If someone else were to fight him, Siani might have suddenly appeared out of sight of his opponent. In hand-to-hand combat, this advantage is astonishing.
"Nothing is known."
Siani smiled and shook his head, leaning against the dark steel cage of the ring. The cold chill made his swollen and sore skin slightly better.
The young man spoke again seriously and earnestly.
"I am really here to ask for advice with the intention of learning from you, Khalil, so please stop saying such overly self-effacing words. Technology itself complements power. Are you willing to weaken your power and simply use technology? I can’t thank you enough for playing against me.”
"But I really don't use any technology."
Siani laughed helplessly, raised his right hand and made a quick swing. His hand blurred in the air for a moment, and then, what was originally a jab attack suddenly turned into a dangerous chokehold.
He pulled back.
"Isn't this called technology?" Terra's Siani asked with wide eyes.
"This" Khalil was stunned.
For a moment, he didn't know how to refute.
Isn't that technology? In his mind, of course not. However, after he entered Siani's perspective, he immediately realized how lethal this change of tactics he was accustomed to was.
But he didn't have any points to refute.
"What if your opponent is wearing power armor?" Khalil asked. "You can't expect to break armor with your fists."
Siani smiled, very happily.
"I'm not an ambitious person, Khalil - I will learn all your hand-to-hand combat skills bit by bit, and then learn weapons from you." He smiled and winked. "You won't reject me, will you?"
I would like to. Khalil shook his head helplessly.
"I won't refuse," he said seriously. "But I can't guarantee how long I can teach you."
"Huh?" Siani put down the hands he had just raised in shock. "what does that mean?"
"It's nothing, Siani," Khalil said lightly. "Are you still planning to study?"
"certainly!"
Terra's Siani frowned: "But what do you mean by that sentence? Don't you plan to stay with us?"
"I don't have any position in the Eighth Legion. You are currently staying in Nostramo, so I can still be lucky enough to walk on the Nightfall under the brilliance of Konrad Curze, but I will not be shameless. Leave."
Khalil chuckled and shook his head. "You are a legion. Wouldn't it be too funny for a non-soldier like me to stay here?"
"."
Siani was silent, and the Astartes below the ring were also silent. After a moment, he nodded.
"Indeed," whispered Siani of Terra.
He said no more.
Just in case.
(End of chapter)
