Even though he had made a lot of preparations and drafted a lot of drafts--however, Lucretius Corvo still lost the ability to speak when he saw Conrad Coze in person.
He wasn't as tall as Robert Guilliman, that much was obvious. And his thinness may explain part of the reason.
There is a pair of quiet eyes on the pale face, which are pitch black and as bright as black agate stone. He stared calmly at Corvo and the five hundred Ultramarines who entered the banquet hall. They stood under the soft light source with their hands behind their backs, and the silver edges of their evening gown shone.
"Good evening, all the Ultramarines who have come from afar, my brother's heirs, thank you for your hard work."
He spoke softly, not loudly, but everyone could hear him clearly.
The noble ancient Terran accent was too obvious to Corvo. After all, he was not from Macragge, he was of Terran descent.
Such a classical accent almost left Corvo in disbelief - hadn't this Primarch been discovered in Nostramo? Why is his accent so elegant?
"I have heard of your sacrifices, and I am willing to leave the Primarch and the Legion and travel a long way to Nostramo. I am deeply grateful for your protection of the future and hope of Nostramo."
The tall, pale, skinny giant, even so skinny that it felt like he should be, smiled and raised his right hand, making a gesture gracefully.
"All the long tables in the Night Veil's banquet hall are specially designed. Today, one of them will be used only to entertain you."
"I-we are very grateful for your kindness."
Corvo's first words were high-pitched, but he quickly realized the problem and calmed down his roaring voice.
His adjutant touched Corvo's elbow with his right hand calmly, with just the right amount of force, and a calm complaint appeared in it. The leader of the Ultramarines continued to speak in annoyance.
"But if we are the only ones attending this banquet, it would be too unruly. The Night Veil is the flagship of our cousins, and it is also your flagship. How can we not let the glorious Eighth Legion participate in a banquet here?"
"If you think their presence will embarrass us, please rest assured that we have cooperated with your descendants many years ago. Those nine victories are still in our history."
"Make no mistake, Lucretius Corvo."
The giant frowned.
"The reason why my legion did not participate in this dinner is because Nostramo is in desperate need of manpower. You can rest assured that the only reason why they do not participate is because they have a mission, not It’s my concern that you won’t feel at home because of their presence.”
"That was not our intention, my lord!"
Corvo hurriedly denied it, only to find that Conrad Coze's already relaxed brows were now frowning again. Although it was only for a moment, the grace of that moment almost made his fingers tremble.
Did I say something wrong? what to do? Dear Guilliman, Lucretius Corvo, you are such a fool.
His self-pity didn't last long—not even half a second, in fact. Because Konrad Coates has changed the subject.
"First company commander." He called seriously into the darkness. "Have the legion's instructors arrived?"
Legion instructor? The Ultramarines looked over in confusion. They had never heard of this position before, and it wasn't even common.
It is common for veterans to lead new recruits, and it is also a tradition shared by everyone in the Empire's Legion of Astartes.
But, instructor?
What is this title, and who does it refer to?
"Lord Khalil will be here soon, Primarch." A voice sounded in the darkness, low and solemn, but familiar, making Corvo let out a sigh of relief.
He turned his head, not bothering to ask the instructor for the time being, and directly talked about the identity of the 'First Company Commander': "Excuse me, Lord Conrad Coates, is your First Company Commander named Van Cleef?"
The giant raised an eyebrow.
"Do you know each other?" he asked softly and curiously. "This is interesting. Have you ever fought side by side before?"
"Of course!" Corvo nodded quickly, took a step forward, and sincerely raised his right hand to cover his chest.
"If he is really the Van Cleef that I remember, then we would have been friends many years ago!"
Conrad Coates smiled, turned his head and looked into the darkness: "Van Cleef?"
"."
In silence, a person reluctantly walked out of the darkness.
Corvo laughed hastily, a laugh full of deliberate haste. While observing Conrad Coates' expression from the corner of his eye, he hurried over.
He took Van Cleef's right hand affectionately, gave him a warm hug and laughed first, and then, taking this opportunity, he spoke with a deep throaty voice in the ear of the company commander of the Eighth Legion.
"Please, Van Cleef, help me and cheer up the atmosphere. I know we were unhappy last time, but you have to admit that we helped a lot on the frontal battlefield."
After the instant hug ended, the first company commander frowned. Although he did not refuse immediately, there was a question in his eyes.
'Enliven the atmosphere? What to do to enliven the atmosphere? Isn't that normal now? '
And a kind of indifference.
'Unpleasant? Ah'
Lucretius Corvo's heart skipped a beat, but before he had time to react, he heard the voice of the Lord of the Eighth Legion coming from behind him.
"Van Cleef, are you old acquaintances? How lucky you are. In the vast galaxy, a long time has passed, and old friends meet again."
Konrad Coates smiled and nodded: "First Company Commander, I don't think you will participate in the ground mission tonight. How about that?"
The implication was clear.
"."
After a brief silence, the First Company Commander spoke with a reluctance that anyone could hear: "The First Company is on a mission. How can I, as the company commander, attend the banquet? This is against the rules, Primarch."
"That's right." Conrad Coates thought for a moment and apologized with a full face. "It was my fault, Van Cleef—then go ahead."
The first company commander saluted and then hurried away. The leader of the Eighth Legion spoke again after a brief silence, his voice still gentle.
"So, Lucretius Corvo - can you take a seat so we can continue our conversation? I hope you don't mind that the banquet hall is empty. The civilians and staff on the Nightfall have been on the ground for many days. In fact, It is still running normally now, all thanks to our hardworking servitors.”
"If they weren't sane, I would have given them medals. Therefore, I hope you don't mind that the dishes to be served are canned food heated and served by the servitors. I'm sorry, but the conditions are really limited. "
He made a little joke.
Yes, Corvo could tell that this was a joke - but when he looked into those dark eyes, he read a deep sadness.
Condolences. He is in mourning.
But to whom?
An almost unbelievable guess came to mind, making Corvo become more serious unconsciously.
"It is our honor to attend this dinner with you."
Lucretius Corvo said.
"Moreover, we are soldiers and Astartes. Under difficult circumstances, even minerals can be eaten raw. Heated canned food is already considered a delicacy, so you don't have to worry about us. .”
"Then I'm relieved. Ah, Khalil."
The pale giant smiled and nodded behind them, with a kind of intimacy in his tone that he didn't even realize: "You're here!"
Lucretius Corvo looked back——
Then he saw another giant.
To be precise, a giant among giants.
Like Konrad Koze, his skin was as pale as a death, and his completely dark eyes were calmer, even a little indifferent, than Konrad Koze's. He stood in front of the open door of the banquet hall, and without having to do anything, everyone was almost speechless.
Then he started smiling.
and greetings.
"Good evening, everyone from Macragge." He nodded politely, and his Gothic language was so noble that Corvo almost felt ashamed. "I hope I didn't scare you."
——In just a moment, the fear that emerged from the depths of his bones immediately dissipated. The smile of the giant named Khalil is so gentle that it almost makes people forget his height. Lucretius Corvo couldn't help but open his mouth and began to respond.
"Not scared."
His gaffe lasted for nearly five seconds, and five seconds later, his adjutant coughed in embarrassment.
——
The banquet went very quickly. Nine minutes after they took their seats, the servitors belonging to the Eighth Legion entered the banquet hall carrying various dishes.
The aroma of Glocks canned meat is so obvious, mixed with the smell of the latest flavor, minced meat-flavored Astartes nutritious porridge produced in Macragge.
These are new products, and as soon as they were launched, they were immediately added to this logistics fleet by Robert Guilliman. Therefore, they are a fresh smell even to the Ultramarines.
The most critical point is that Lucretius Corvo also smelled a strong irritating smell. He had never drank them, but he immediately analyzed what they were based on some gossip he had heard in the past.
"It's Fenris' mead." His lieutenant took the lead and whispered. "There are only 40,000 barrels in the warehouse of the logistics fleet. This gentleman is actually willing to use it to entertain us. It is an exciting courtesy."
Lucretius Corvo nodded, and just as he was about to speak in agreement, he saw his adjutant glance over.
"Oh, sir." The adjutant sighed. "But how do you respond to this kindness?"
"What manners? Am I out of shape or am I unbuttoned?"
Corvo retorted angrily. "If you want to say that my performance just now was embarrassing, just say so. Don't mince words like those scholars from the 15th Legion! Do you want to be like them? Use three twists in one sentence to express it?"
"It's so rude of you to discuss other legions behind your back."
".That was just a metaphor!"
"Yes." The adjutant nodded. "Anyway, as the designated commander of the original body, don't you plan to stand up and say a few toasts? Also, you don't plan to ask about instructor Khalil's situation?"
"If you want to ask, you ask."
Although Corvo was dissatisfied, he still stood up holding the thick wine glass tailor-made for Astartes. The dark liquid was rolling in it, with a few bubbles popping out from time to time.
It is better to say that it is wine than a kind of poison. Corvo could smell gasoline inside. He thought it might be mixed with blood, but that didn't stop him from using it for tonight's drink.
He raised his glass.
"In the name of Macragge, I, Lucretius Corvo, hereby pay my most sincere respect to you, Lord Conrad Curze, Lord of the Eighth Legion. May the Eighth Legion continue to Achieve a hundred thousand victories, may you be filled with achievements, and may your image be sculpted gloriously on Terra, beside the statue of the Emperor!"
Conrad Coates stood up slowly, with a soft smile on his face that a stranger could not discern his true emotion.
He raised his glass and nodded toward Corvo from the end of the long table.
"Thank you for your wishes, Lucretius Corvo. I salute your legion with the same respect. As for the one hundred thousand victories, if the Eighth Legion can really achieve so many victories, then, I Here’s hoping the Ultramarines achieve more.”
He smiled slightly again, raised his head, and drank the strong wine in the glass. Then, he put down his wine glass and spoke slowly again under the grateful eyes of Lucretius Corvo.
"You must have questions." He said firmly. "And this question must be directed at the giant beside me - right, the protectors of Nostramo's hope, the Ultramarines?"
“How can you be so ridiculous?”
Corvo's gratitude quickly turned into a kind of uneasiness. He took a deep breath, ignored the mead churning in his stomach, and said in a deep voice: "We are just performing a mission, but the praise you gave us is too much." Too heavy, yeah.”
Under the ghostly look in his lieutenant's eyes, Lucretius Corvo nodded.
"We do have questions about the giant beside you, the instructor of your legion, Master Khalil."
Conrad Coates smiled and nodded without saying a word. Instructor Khalil, who was sitting next to him and slowly chewing Glocks canned meat, shook his head helplessly.
"I'm his," he said slowly, then paused. "Adoptive father."
The Ultramarines' eyes widened.
Conrad Coates also widened his eyes, and a hissing voice jumped out of his throat without thinking: "You, you, what did you say?"
"Don't push yourself too far. Conrad, I can't see your little thought behind dragging me over to attend this banquet tonight. I want to let your brothers who have never met you get used to it in advance."
Chuckling, Khalil shook his head and slowly stood up.
I would like to report that after this chapter is completed, the remaining 30 updates (90,000 words) that I owe will only be 14,000. I will pay it off as soon as possible.
It sold 70,000 to 80,000 copies within four days of its release.
(End of chapter)
