Chapter 271 On the Road
Fulgrim's purple robe swept across the white hall floor of the Emperor's Pride, and he stopped at a mahogany table with a gold vase.
The raw material of this desktop has the rarest excellent texture among the pure natural non-synthetic wood currently available in Galaxy. His descendants brought him materials that were perfected after a fruitful conquest.
Fulgrim selected the mahogany tree offered by Julius Kaisoron of Chemos into his hall. Kaisoron raised his head proudly, while the other children looked lonely. .
But this is inevitable.
In the long road to perfection, there will inevitably be competition between people. If you overcome it, you will find that you have gone further than others. This is the easiest way to quantify the results in the process of progress.
He smiled slightly, and plucked a new bouquet of purple and orange flowers in the vase with his white fingers. He looked back at Ferus Manu, who was looking at his iron hands idly. Sri Lanka.
Fulgrim remembered that the Primarch of the Iron Hands obtained these shining silver hands in a unique battle - he used his bare hands to kill a creature with living metal skin. The silver dragon beast drowned in the lava. When he let go of the dead monster, the living metal permanently coated the outside of the skin on his hand.
How similar to those ancient myths, Fulgrim thought to himself, those who smear the dragon's blood will be invulnerable from now on.
“What are you thinking about?” Fulgrim sat down next to Ferus.
Ferrus raised his head: "Calculate the remaining time required to return to Terra. What about you?"
"I'm thinking that I really lost a rare opportunity," Fulgrim replied, "I failed to fight with Like Perturabo, he put a series of brothers on his flagship to welcome the Royal Palace of Terra. Even if it was just Konrad Curze... despite his eccentric personality, he was still a good man. People, what do you think?”
“I think that under the premise that we return at the current speed, Perturabo’s mechanical body and Konrad Curze have no chance of being earlier than us. To be precise, I can't understand how they will return to the Solar System across half the galaxy."
"Perturabo is a man full of secrets." Mu smiled and neatly rearranged the rug placed on the armrest of the bench.
"Among my descendants, those who are still serving as exchange members in his legion have never mentioned when Perturabo developed a perfect mechanical body! Not even a trace of There are no signs.”
He put down the folded square blanket, pretended to half-cover his mouth with one hand, and looked at Ferus: "And those Iron Warriors who were exchanged in my legion are still confirming for us inadvertently. "An interesting anecdote."
"What's the matter?" Ferus replied cooperatively.
"Perturabo's mentor may very well be real." Fulgrim whispered, even though he and Ferrus were the only ones in the entire hall, and the Emperor's Pride was soundproofed. Plate, apparently not so bad that even the whispers of the Primarch could be leaked.
"Really?" Ferus responded.
"That mentor definitely appeared on the Iron Blood more than twenty years ago. At that time, the war blacksmiths of the Iron Warriors were said to not be the current group of warriors..."
"I'm not sure if I, now complete, have chosen his trident," Perturabo said, ignoring the seemingly invisible hidden person in the shadows, and sitting with Morse in a grid styled in the style of believers of the Laughing God. Patterned variegated cards on both sides of the table.
They took this ship because the Tuchucha engine was still tied to the stern of the ship. This subspace engine, which caused twenty years of separation and many subsequent changes, must be personally escorted.
"...I am not sure about the current development of Olympia and the current construction status of 'that' on Terra..."
"Webway." A gloomy low voice came from the shadows. Groaned, "I know that word, you two, why are you hiding it from me? Does it have real value? Or is it some kind of metaphor that contains hints and symbols?"
Perturabo frowned : "Why don't you come out and talk to us, Conrad?"
"Because I hate this outfit." Conrad Coates's mood was rarely excited by some trivial events, "The floral plaid! It's just crazy..."
"This is you Question, Conrad," Morse opened his eyes and propped up his upper body from the soft chair covered with a thick sword cat fur.
“Who let his wardrobe be so full of leather goods that he couldn’t find even a single piece of normal clothing when he got on the ship? Can these busy little Eldar in colorful clothes find time to give it to you? It’s hard enough to cut a clean new robe, so why be dissatisfied?”
Curze used some uncommon Eldar words, as old as Perturabo and Morse? Never knew. However, the meanings of these words are not difficult to guess.
“I would rather put my leather clothes back on,” he said, switching back to Gothic, “than step foot into the Palace of Terra wearing these clothes.”
Perturabo sighed and looked at Morse helplessly: "He is in trouble."
Morse snapped his fingers, and a ripple of reality reached through hyperspace. Target. "Unexpected trouble, really," he said.
Koz shook the re-dyed pure black robe and finally left the shadow. "I express my solemn thanks to you, Morse."
"Emperor," Morse shook his head and ignored Konrad Curze. He sat up straighter again and tapped the table with the pads of his index and middle fingers, "You can contact me now, Perturabo."
"Oh..." Perturabo said slightly Surprised, after a moment of hesitation, he nodded: "Come on, are you still going to share our memories directly?"
Morse's hand made a gesture of weighing an item in the void: "Judging from the total quality of the information, yes. I don't have the patience to sort out what you did second by second. How about you read it and paraphrase it?" ”
Perturabo’s electronically charged core flickered. "Thank you, Morse."
"Hell, it's enough to have one man in this room who can't thank you enough!"
"Then I withdraw my thanks," Coates said, He grabbed the imitation thorn wreath thrown here by the colorful troupe and turned it around on his fingers in boredom.
Perturabo stretched out his hand, and Morse threw the invisible object to him, marking the establishment of a bilateral contact signal.
Soon, even within the limitations of the mechanical face, Perturabo's expression immediately became complicated. He was immersed in a long reading and thinking, and he was stunned for far longer than a Primarch should have to react.
Morse folded his hands on the table and waited quietly for his answer. Even Conrad Coates duly remained silent.
Soon after, the gleaming light in Perturabo's extinguished mechanical eyes began to flash again.
"Very..." He was looking for an appropriate description.
"Not bad?" Morse asked. "We have two hundred thousand people." Perturabo said, after opening his eyes, his eyes never left Morse, "202,232 active legion soldiers, divided into 198 companies, a total of 13 A warsmith; there is still no Trident installed, and I am waiting for a decisive large-scale battle to make the decision to install a higher-level commander more reasonable and avoid causing unnecessary shocks in the existing command system. ”
“In terms of weapons, based on the existing Land Raider model, we developed a modified Land tank that focuses on long-range fire coverage and precise control. We canceled the overhead tracks of the prototype Land and added a Falcon The maximum loading number of missiles and hit accuracy have enhanced the salvo fire capability, with an average penetration depth of 1500mm. In addition, I have also enhanced the tank’s protective capabilities. However, considering the thickness of the armor, the current turret penetration resistance is only around 1200mm. The head is 900mm. Arkan Rand believes that this design can be named the 'Perturabo Land Raider'. I think such a name is flashy and it is unnecessary to juxtapose the name of the designer. Therefore, it is tentatively named 'Land Raider Type 4'."
"In addition, we are also conducting a series of research based on the current design of small cruisers, as well as ordnance of different combat levels such as Storm Eagle gunships. Improvements to prototypes. For example, the Olympia-type gunship that is being put into use follows the specialized direction of a sustained-air firepower platform and has enhanced continuous fire capabilities and precision firepower. "
"As for individual armor, we currently have it. We are studying a new type of Astartes armor, which is stronger than power armor, but ensures the flexibility of infantry units. I prefer to name it "Tactical Dreadnought Armor", or "Terminator", with adamantine as the skeleton, Tao. The steel is used as a coating and comes equipped with one-handed heavy weapons such as heavy spitfires, autocannons, shoulder-mounted Cyclone missiles, and more. But in the process of manufacturing and experimenting, we did not have sufficient raw materials, and due to the war, we have not had enough time to focus on developing armor..."
At this point in the narrative, Perturabo stopped. After hearing his plain and powerful talk, he temporarily looked at Conrad Coates and expressed his respect with his eyes: "You once mentioned that there is a large amount of fine gold buried under the surface of Nostramo? Olympia Star Cluster will provide the most objective trading conditions. I won't favor one over the other without reason, but I can make sure I offer you terms that satisfy you, my brother. ”
"Hmm..." Coze leaned down and took a closer look at Perturabo, who was sitting on the seat. Perturabo turned his head and met Conrad Coze's eyes calmly.
"What's the matter, Conrad?" asked Perturabo.
"You have changed." Curze stood up straight again, walked around Perturabo's back, and wandered to the other side of the card table.
"I would be grateful if you would be more specific about your basis," Perturabo replied, "even if I could understand what you mean. Your observations are as meticulous as ever, and obviously no one else can Unchanged over time, but I don't think my changes have touched the fundamentals."
"I am still Perturabo, the Fourth Primarch, Lord of the Iron Warriors, and as for Olympia, it is currently. It expanded into the United Kingdom encompassing four major sectors, and was still named the 'Olympia Cluster'."
Coz made a circle gesture and threw the Eldar performance garland back into the pile of props.
"You've made this place look like a lecture hall, Perturabo."
"Really?" asked Perturabo, returning his gaze to Morse. , His words were also addressed to Morse, and the Lord of Iron was waiting for his evaluation. "There haven't been men in black robes in my lecture hall for a long time, and now there are even two here."
Morse waved his hand and covered the lower half of his face with his palm. "It sounds like your research on weapons has gone a lot deeper."
"It's just preparation for peace." Perturabo immediately explained, "I am not immersed in war, and I am not one. Weapons.”
"You talk a lot," Morse rubbed his face. "It was like a switch suddenly turned on."
"A necessary introduction," Perturabo replied, "This is part of what I have accomplished in twenty years. This is not a brief moment."
"I heard it," Morse said. "I understand, good."
"Okay." Perturabo nodded slightly, "I hope you...can know them."
"Then, I remember "Yes," Morse said clearly.
Perturabo nodded and looked at Morse: "In terms of legion affairs, we are currently promoting a series of legion member exchange activities. Fulgrim and I exchanged a group of children because I discovered that I have a company commander. It's like he was born in the wrong army. He's half a head taller than most of his peers, and he doesn't look like one of us. Plus, he reads poetry, really reads it, and appreciates it." br>
“It reminds me of a guy,” Morse said.
"War Blacksmith Bill Perrin? He is still in the webway, alive." He emphasized the second half of the sentence. This was a completely subconscious move, "Actually, he is guarding where we are currently. At the other end of the passage, there are some works that combine art and spiritual symbolism within the maintenance network. "
"Oh?" Coz became interested. He could guarantee that that thing was not included in his prediction.
"You will be astonished by it, my brother." There was a powerful promise in Perturabo's voice.
He continued: "Some Primarchs were not involved in the exchange, such as Angron, who spent too much time assisting with the Webway and did not have Magnus's fractal abilities."
"Magnus Nuss got his wish for a time, and he couldn't wait to send several of his descendants into Leman Russ's army, intending to spy on the other party's use of psychic powers."
"Within a month, those descendants were ready. Fleeing from the mead, wolfskins, and greasy roasts back to the sun, the wolf cubs were transported by a ship for repeatedly inadvertently disturbing the order of the library and being distracted by their daily tasks of diplomacy, reading, and writing. The speedboat expedited the return of the Space Wolves. "
"I like this story." The upper half of Morse's face, which was not covered by his palms, slightly arched his eyes.
"Just like it." Perturabo nodded, "In the process of building defense fortresses in various star regions, as well as building railways, industrialized agriculture, local opera houses and other facilities, in the past twenty years, , I still have more stories to share...but now, I have a new one.”
He temporarily looked away from Morse's face and looked through the curved window of the Eldar airship towards the webway where they were. This space is completely white, and time and space are out of order here.
“Only a few of the new experimental network tunnels are strong enough to be put into use, and their stability is not sufficient to support the movement of organized armies. Angron is focusing on increasing their stability. This one is It's...a new road connected to the original network system. I think you can see those signs soon."
"Is your new story related to the signs?" Morse asked.
"To be precise, it has something to do with the gift." Perturabo replied, a smile blooming at the corners of his mechanical mouth.
“Oh?” Morse gave up covering the smile on his face with his palms.
He also looked out the window.
A statue. At the edge of his vision, he made out a huge statue.
A less refined statue. The edges are rough, the materials are strange, patchwork, and full of blasphemy and violation of physics.
At the same time, it is also a happy statue. Exaggerated movements. Covered with graffiti. The image is vivid and free, not bound by any human rules.
"What did you do by letting the greenskins do it in the webway?" Morse asked curiously. From some of the iconic features of the statue, he vaguely got an answer that made his smile widen.
"Angron," said Perturabo. "Not Rogal Dorn, not me. And certainly not Magnus, who tortured them so much in their studies. The orcs have recently been building a statue to their beloved 'good-hearted' Angron, and no one has persuaded them to do so. Live.”
(End of this chapter)