Chapter 113: Respecting the Elderly is a Traditional Virtue
Danat Lysander opened his eyes again in the infirmary of the Destiny Steel.
The familiar smell of disinfectant similar to that of the Phalanx's infirmary came to his nose again.
Unforgettable.
To this day, when he thinks about what he did here that day, in front of the Father of Genes, and his millennium enemy, the war blacksmith Shanto of the Iron Warriors, he feels like——
Ahhhhhhh stop it! Lysander! Can't think about it anymore! Don't think about it! Think of something else!
——No. I should have seen something indescribable and impossible, the highest blasphemy against the Emperor and the Primarchs, before I passed out in the chapel——
No, no. No, no, it must be an illusion. You can’t fool me. It must be because this is the lair of the Demon King and the omnipresent pollution of the enemy of Chaos. You can’t fool me! That should be just an ordinary renegade Space Marine, but he happened to be wearing the stolen Priest power armor, and his face was not mutated and he happened to look a little like an Ultramarine... Calm down, calm down, calm down, Lysander, think of something else of!
Well, at least there is no such nympho here today that makes people want to smash his head with a hammer. Lysander was lying alone in the cold but quiet medical cabin. For the first time in more than 1,300 years since he started fighting for the Empire and the Imperial Fists, he didn't want to get up immediately.
Whenever he thinks about how many skull-exploding things await him after he walks out of this medical cabin, especially when he may have to face the accusing and resentful eyes of the entire 1st Company and Pastor Li Kaiwen—— The former company commander, who had never slacked off for a moment during his centuries of service, quietly developed an ostrich mentality as cowardly as poison ivy.
This feeling is really new and strange.
Lysander lay there, closing his eyes again, thinking wildly, and his Lyman ears caught another familiar footsteps. Equally calm and composed, he knew who it was, Parogov Nilaydoa, the living saint descended from his genetic father - and Chapter Apothecary Apprentice to the Iron Warriors who called themselves the Silver Skulls.
——He is actually just a pharmacist apprentice! I want to see what that arrogant bastard Iron Warrior who dares to call himself the living saint master of Rogal Dorn looks like——
"Good afternoon," fortunately, fortunately, Ni Although Brother Laidoa's voice is very similar, it can still be distinguished that it looks younger and bookish compared to Lord Rogal Dorn's calmness. Similarly, this living saint's choice of words and sentences are also better than his genes. The father himself was more casual in his habits.
"I see that your heart and brain monitoring pattern has entered the awake and active range. Brother Lysander, if you wake up and want to lie down for a while, you can tell me. Do you need an extra pillow and blanket?"
The heat caused by shame suddenly rushed to Lysander's cheeks. He suddenly opened his eyes and tried to pretend that he had just woken up.
"Good afternoon, Nilaydoa... Pharmacist." He considered for about 0.0001 seconds whether to use "Sir", "Master" or "Monk" to address him would be more in line with the other person's identity, but It seems that the living saint of the Imperial Fists is quite satisfied with the title of Apothecary.
"I just woke up, eh." Lysander suddenly realized sadly that it was really easy to use the lying skill in language, once it was first time.
But now he who was once extremely honest and pure has begun to brag to his father's living saint without scratching the surface. "I feel like I still need to move a bit before I can get up. Maybe the blood flow rate is not fast enough due to the low temperature."
The younger, smaller version of his genetic father nodded towards him, "That's true, but we usually keep The low temperature in the cabin helps prevent the development of serious injuries and the occurrence of accidents, and also facilitates us to adjust the dosage of various drugs. I will later suggest Master Hong Suo to raise the temperature in the medical cabin used for patients with minor injuries or less. ”
"Oh, and this." Following the words of the living saint, a black linen robe was embroidered with silver thread with a skull pattern that looked very much like the Iron Warriors emblem, and a wide leather belt with the same uncomfortable silver emblem buckle. The belt was put into his hand, and Nylaidoa pointed to the ground. Lysander followed his guidance and saw a pair of Astartes-sized soft-soled cowhide gladiator-style sandals.
Lysander hesitated.
Is it really wise for him to dress like this on board the Ironblood under Perturabo's rule (especially with the presence of a certain warsmith who has obviously defected to the Dark Prince)? "Put them on quickly." Parogov Nilaydoa's voice came from behind the door of the pharmacist's preparation room next to him, followed by a jaw-dropping mechanical interface closure, airlock pressure release and cable There was the sound of pulling out and the sound of fastening the belt buckle, and the young pharmacist strode out, adding a pure white skull mask to his noble face as he walked, which disappointingly obscured the The Seventh Primarch has the same noble and resolute face, only revealing his straight and smooth mandible and lower lip.
"Your power armor and equipment have been taken away by the armory guards who passed on the angry words," the living saint said with a small tone of laughter, "' The Sage is not nice to talk to. I guess you will be given a hard time when you go to get them back. After all, he really hates people who don’t come according to the schedule and disrupt his work schedule.”
"Ah. That's it." Lysander answered vaguely. He suddenly found that he had become accustomed to the religious chants of the state religion, ascetic questions and answers, pre-war mobilization and battle roars. Such a relaxed conversation in daily life happened between two Asta Suddenly, one of them was even regarded as the representative of the Primarch - which made him actually at a loss.
“Well, when the father of genes was away,” he heard Nilaydua say in a very natural tone, “he entrusted me with the work of fighting and guiding our lives here. , Of course, given the battles and years you have experienced, I don’t think my qualifications and knowledge are enough to take on this kind of responsibility, but I still-"
"You just need to do what you are handed over. We will complete the other parts of the job." Lysander pursed his lips, "Being inferior is the last thing you need. I believe that even if the First Company and I may have big differences, we will still protect you and obey orders. At this point, we must have the same goal."
"I have no doubt about it." The other party seemed to raise his eyebrows slightly, behind his mask, "But humility is not a thing anyway. Bad thing, Brother Lysander. "
The former captain lowered his head slightly in respect, and then at the other party's signal, he walked with him through the complicated corridors and air-tight arches to a certain destination.
"I noticed that you have been looking at my mask. If you have something to say, you might as well tell me."
Lysander was taken aback, but then raised his own question, "This mask is a symbol of some kind. Or some kind of..." Humiliation, he thought, some kind of humiliation by the Fourth Primarch Perturabo to our genetic father?
"Oh, because the Chapter Master said he couldn't see my face," Niraidoa didn't seem to care much, "What's wrong with you, Brother Lysander?"
"You How can you endure the insult of asking you to hide this sacred face? !"
The other party looked at him in surprise, "Insult? Brother Lysander, what are you thinking about? The last time he saw me was...well...the situation was almost beyond control." The Living Saint's next words immediately caused the former company commander to become confused again, "Considering that he is indeed older and such a nice person, we You should be considerate of him. Respecting the elderly is a traditional virtue that deserves to be promoted in the warband. Don’t you think so, Brother Lysander?”
Older?
Is he so nice?
Considerate?
Perturabo?
Lysander's few sanity was once again caught in a warp storm.
Gua.
? Did you write a bunch of words and send them to me?
God forbid I don’t sneak out of the plot
Edit again: Okay, there is no screen, I am the only one who can’t see () Check and kill the big bun! (annoyed)
The second thing is, I’m in the yard, let’s have dinner first
(End of this chapter)