Chapter 730 I want to see a loving father and a filial son
As the saying goes, parody is not nonsense, and adaptation is not random creation.

When it comes to their own Primarch, almost every Legion of Space Marines will brag about him mindlessly. Those with great martial power are said to have single-handedly destroyed stars, those who are proficient in strategy are said to have astonishing wisdom, and they will say whatever they can to highlight the supreme dominance of a Primarch.

Originally, this thing was just for fun, and at most had some publicity value. Soldiers from different legions used it to kill time together, so it didn't count at all.

But the problem is that this world is too fucked up. You can’t just brag about being awesome. It has to have real effects.

Take Angron for example. Everything was fine at first, but some unlucky World Eater asked for his own death and said on the Kara network that his Primarch was the Lord of the Extermination Order, with 990,000 psionic energies at his disposal, and that he was the Imperial Martial God. If he disliked anyone, he would slap them in the face and even blow up the planet.

This was originally a joke, but the people of the empire were uneducated and they really believed it. Some people have believed it since the Great Crusade, and it has formed a stereotype.

Even in some worlds controlled by the World Eaters, the statue of Angron that should have been erected was replaced by a huge man with Imperial battle emblems riding a whirlwind torpedo, with a very abstract shape.

Even if we take a step back and say that it's abstract, after all, if the people of the Empire don't do something, they might end up dying. But the problem is that after thousands of years of continuous transmission, the World Devourers have indeed undergone some unusual and strange changes.

For example, for the same batch of whirlwind torpedoes, other legions would need to release three to achieve the same effect when bombing a planet, but the World Devourers only need to release two. Even the Extinction Orders produced within the legion are more powerful and the machine spirits are more active, as if they had eaten golden ke La.

This metaphysical phenomenon cannot be explained and can only be attributed to the traditional skills of the subspace. Perhaps one day, Angron can really become an imperial half-immortal named the Lord of the Extinction Order.

Becoming a god is not a good thing, but the Primarchs are different. They already have the essence of a secondary god of the Warp. As long as they are guided, within a certain range, they will not be turned into a puff by the incense like Old Man Huang.

This matter was briefly recorded in the "Va Banxian's Promotion Records", and the Emperor also repeatedly stated that this phenomenon was harmless. Otherwise, why do you think the four vendors were so crazy about the original gene body? It was because the original gene body had two accounts, and it was popular there. It was the ultimate creature jointly financed and created by several of them.

Anyway, since that conversation, all the primarchs felt relieved and began to control public opinion, unifying the image of the legion as much as possible, and making up a good reputation that was both impressive and could meet actual needs, so as to add benefits to themselves.

Of course, the image of some legions cannot be changed back, especially the Blackwatch and the Night Lords, which have become stereotypes for more than 10,000 years. Only those relatively clean legions can be effectively changed.

"Then Your Highness Hogg, why are you telling me so much?"

Lancelot's brows have never relaxed since he met Hogg. He has probably felt upset more times in the past few hours than in his entire life. He always wanted to complain, but he suppressed it every time.

Even without Lord Guilliman's testimony, Lancelot could confirm that the person in front of him was real. He had never seen such a shameless person who kept talking and was so shameless.

They made things that were obviously blasphemous and heretical sound like something that was just right, just like the false emperor who deceived them, and even more immoral.

If the aberration could disguise itself as such a despicable person, Lancelot, who has been fighting with the aberration until now, would rather die by hitting his head against a wall.

"Your Highness, please stop talking. My mind is in a mess right now. Can you please let me have some peace and quiet?"

Hogg raised his eyebrows when his speech was interrupted. He had waited for so many years and finally had the opportunity to show his prowess in front of people, but he only spoke for 12 hours. He was not satisfied at all!

"Well~ Fine! Since you are respectful to me, I will fulfill your small request, but let me say one last sentence. Do you know how the world will describe Guilliman from today on?"

"I don't know." For the sake of his own life, Lancelot had no choice but to continue the conversation, but he soon regretted it.

"Someone asked: How big is Guilliman's butt?

"The answer is 'It's too deep!'

"Then let me ask you: How many people have been inside Guilliman's ass?"

Looking at Hogg who was looking at him, Lancelot knew that he would not be able to finish until he satisfied him, so he could only reply "I don't know". Unexpectedly, Hogg came over in an instant, held his shoulders and went crazy.

"That's right. I don't know how many people have been in there. Anyway, we, the Blackwatch, fought an expeditionary campaign in there, and in the end he killed himself in the ass."

Because these words were too sinister, Lancelot was unable to react for a moment. After a long 0.3 seconds, he realized what this hellish joke meant.

"Your Highness, Lord Guilliman is your brother. You should be a man of high moral standards. Is this a bit too much and against the rules?"

Lancelot searched for a long time before finding a suitable word, which was already very euphemistic, but Hogg was like a strong-brained cat with its fur standing on end, and called in the Black Watch who had been waiting outside for a long time.

When this group of Space Marines wearing black armor with cartoon skulls on their chests stood in front of everyone, the remaining veterans of the Second Legion immediately realized a problem, that is, is the Empire so abstract now?
As far as the eye can see, there is basically no normal person. Their hair is colorful and their hairstyles are weird. There is a kind of post-modern wasteland punk style that is both earthy and exciting.

And that's not all. The Second Legion was killed in the middle of the Great Crusade. They had never seen the Mark X armor, and their weapons were antiques. They even knew that a long time had passed in the outside world, but even so, they could see that the style of Blackwatch was wrong.

Not to mention the green Guandao that is obviously alien technology, the weird half-biological, half-mechanical guns, and those talking excavators, why are you carrying sacks on your back?
And those little alien figures wearing very little cloth drawn on your power armor, Lancelot even suspected that the empire had been enslaved by the aliens.

"How about it, are you shocked by the powerful strength of our Blackwatch? Let me tell you, my rules are the rules.

If it weren't for the ten ships of gold, I would have sent you to Catachan to look at trees and grin just because of what you said just now."

As soon as these words were spoken, Blackwatch looked proud and glorious, with their power armor covered with painful two-dimensional pictures and huge sacks filled with rags. If you didn't know better, you would think they were doing performance art.

Now not only Lancelot, but all the people in the Second Legion fell silent. If it weren't for the helmets covering their hideous faces, their expressions would have been very funny.

The others had helmets to cover their faces, but Lancelot didn't. He had taken off his helmet before. Just when he was about to give up, a curse eased his embarrassment. "Brother, don't stop me. Damn it, Wen Bai is incompetent and has humiliated the country. Who was the idiot who shot me with a gun just now? Stand up, I want to send him to the sewer in Safra."

This time Guilliman entered with his true face, perhaps because of the mind simulation trainer, except for his own appearance, the projection was completely a Black Watcher with a little golden hair. Standing next to Hogg, he looked like a minion, not even as cool as other Black Watchers.

However, Guilliman's threats had no effect at all. The eyes of the Second Legion were all on the man behind him, and an even more awkward atmosphere began to spread.

"No, who cares about me? Cold violence, huh? I'm..."

"Shut up, you little fucking cat boy, and stop blocking my view of the show."

Without giving Guilliman a chance to speak, Hogg directly pulled him over. It was really worth the trip to see this scene.

Perhaps infected by the atmosphere, Guilliman stopped talking and showed the same gossipy expression as Blackwatch on his face. He stood with Hogg and grinned foolishly.

On one side were veterans of the Second Legion who betrayed the Emperor but protected Sera for thousands of years and created the New Empire; on the other side were the Primarchs of the Legion who took all their descendants to be buried with him and killed them with their own hands.

It was impossible to verify what was right or wrong. Ever since Roland showed up, the Second Legion had been in an uproar. Traitor, hypocrite, parricide, pseudo-emperor's lackey, all kinds of titles were attached to them. But in the end, they still took off their helmets, knelt on one knee, and looked at their primarch with longing eyes.

"Father, you are not dead?"

Lancelot's unique hoarse voice sounded, and as soon as he opened his mouth, Hogg and the others became excited, thinking that the tickets were worth buying, as it was so exciting right from the start.

"Fight, fight! I want to see the father's kindness and the son's filial piety!"

Glancing at the bloodthirsty audience next to him, Roland cursed in his heart. If he couldn't beat them, he would have wanted to fight Ho...Guilliman in a duel and beat him so hard that he couldn't take care of himself.

Looking at his descendants again, ten thousand years seemed like a long time, but it just seemed like just a day. Roland still remembered what he said when he returned to the legion. He promised to make the Second Legion the defender of mankind, let the oppressed stand up, and make mankind great again.

What is betrayal? Roland didn't know whether his offspring betrayed him first or he betrayed his promise first. He only knew that he couldn't lose them again.

A pair of strong arms reached out and supported the extremely old Lancelot. Just like the first time they met, Roland's voice resounded in the ears of every soldier of the Second Legion:

"Stand up, don't kneel!"

"You are not wrong. It is this fucked up world that is wrong. No matter what the outcome, you are all my descendants. Come back! The Second Legion needs you, and I need you too."

The Primarchs had a huge killing power on Space Marines. When they heard that Roland needed them, even though they said no, all the men of the Second Legion stood up, their smiles harder to suppress than those of a bolter.

"Woo woo woo! So touching. Guilliman, you are such a heartless person. You even want to make fun of me. I despise you."

A scream broke the atmosphere that had just been brewing, making everyone extremely embarrassed. Roland's fists were hardened, as if he was going to rush over and have an unlimited fight with the two bastards in the next moment, but he was soon beaten down by a group of tin cans;

"Father, calm down. There are more of them. You can't defeat them."

Lies don't hurt people, the truth is a sharp knife. Roland knew it very well because of those two bastards. He estimated that he would be beaten up if he went there, so he could only make harsh words to show that he would not bother with them.

Seeing that there was no more fun to watch, Guilliman stopped howling, and smoothly broke free from his good brother's hands and moved closer to Roland.

Since the seventh floor was occupied by the Second Legion, after they recognized Roland and his son, the last threat had been eliminated, and the only problem was to awaken Sera.

"Now can you tell me how Sera became like this? Time is short and the task is heavy. Stop nagging me. I still want to get my adamantium back."

"What is gold? I want it too."

Guilliman, who had arrived in Kalos in advance, was confused when he heard that there was adamantium to be taken. He didn't remember anyone mentioning adamantium, so he immediately grabbed Hogg.

"Go away, that's what I bought with my knowledge, you have no share at all. I didn't find it on Kalos, so Sera must have hidden it.

Since you have no merit, you have worked hard. I will give you a ton to play with. Let go of it immediately."

No matter how small a mosquito is, it is still meat. It was unprecedented to be able to take something out of Hogg's mouth. Guilliman immediately let go and looked at Lancelot next to him.

"Ah, this is refined gold, right? I don't know about this, let's save Sera first!"

"Yes, yes! Saving Sera first is the most important thing."

Without saying anything more, Lancelot led everyone towards the monastery in the center. Perhaps because of the refined gold, Hogg did not notice the cold sweat on Roland and Lancelot's heads, but led the way forward.

Then, he saw the half-dead Sera whose body was pierced by the tower, and found that it was not a tower at all, but a big sword. The style looked very familiar. As for the owner of this sword.

"Old man Huang, you deserve to die!"

(End of this chapter)