Ahriman and Morgan from the Thousand Sons Legion were the seventh group of guests Luther entertained today, and if there were no accidents, this should also be the last group.
Caliban runs the precious clockwork clock on his desk. It is a work of art made of gears, glass and metal wires. Countless operations and pushes determine the swing pattern of the hands, allowing it to display the same time as
The homeland of mankind is almost exactly the same.
By the standards of Holy Terra, today has only passed about eight standard hours, and his last rest was about thirty-two standard hours ago. However, despite this, Luther did not feel much fatigue, and his muscles and spirit
Still in a relatively soothing and energetic stage, this old knight couldn't help but sigh at the magic of genetic modification surgery.
But occasionally, he would also think about what it would be like for those knights who had been completely genetically modified and had undergone the legendary nineteen surgeries: Nemir, Zahariel, Sever, and others.
…
They were once his brothers, his warriors, and his knights. They were the legions who followed his footsteps into the hunting battlefield. Once upon a time, he stood at the forefront of everyone and was the leader of everyone.
But now, they are on the battlefield, on the front line, using unimaginable great bodies and strength. Those knights who once followed him have participated in the most magnificent war cause in the galaxy, to obtain enough to sing
Thousands of years of merit and honor.
As for death? It is nothing more than an inevitable moment, like the last glass of wine at a banquet, like the sunset gradually being swallowed by the deep forest. Death is nothing to any Caliban.
When he puts on his armor for the first time, which knight can guarantee that he will live a long life? When he rides on horseback again, which warrior can guarantee that this will not be the last journey?
With a surging heart, hold on to the steel gun and move forward bravely. Death is like fragrance, and life is nothing more than that.
——————
And this order comes from [Lion].
Luther stared at all this, and he just wanted to sigh.
When the sound of iron boots on the ground gradually disappeared, Luther could finally - he almost forgot - stop his damn smile.
Maybe take a break.
[The Lion] grew so fast, and when almost no one noticed, he was already so powerful, so majestic, so invincible.
Luther's eyes quickly distinguished among these similar documents, some of which he did not need to pay attention to, such as the mobilization of fleets and legions. That was the power only the war chief had, and he was responsible for the more trivial ones.
Events: Supply, Transportation and Warehousing.
Luther struggled briefly in his heart, but this struggle was not intense: almost in an instant, obedience and fear took over.
The eighth visitor is a Dark Angel veteran.
Luther saw the logos of [Storm Wings] and [Blade Sky Host] on his shoulder armor, and even a Medal of Honor from the Terran Unification War, while he held a paper document in his hand.
Luther wanted to laugh, but smiled bitterly.
After burning the last letter, Luther closed his eyes and even wanted to sleep for a while.
If they are able, they also hope to send new troops to take over their defense lines. The 23rd Regiment has not experienced a rotation for two years. The chief of staff and liaison officer repeatedly used words such as "low morale" and "low morale" in their reports.
Words like "heavy losses".
Looking at the burning letter, Luther just wanted to sigh.
Luther stretched his fingers and felt some numbness in his fingertips. He moved a few times and then opened the first letter. This letter was not long, but it exuded the smell of gunpowder smoke and iron blood, which made Cali
The class members couldn't help but take a deep breath.
Thinking like this, Luther turned his eyes to the other side of the desk, where there was a stack of letters. They came from Nemir, from Seifer, and from every former comrade who fought on the front line.
This sentence obviously made the Dark Angel pause. He neither nodded nor denied, but just lowered his head slightly, moved his eyes downward, revealing a large area of the whites of his eyes, and then stared condescendingly at the short old man in front of him.
But he couldn't disobey all of this, after all, this was an order from the [Lion].
he likes.
He will never forget it!
——————
When he raised his head again, Luther only felt a slight burst of pain in the upper part of his spine. He glanced at the clock and saw that almost ten Terra standard hours had passed.
He hates [Lions].
"Urgent documents, logistics manager."
…
He didn't say a word.
The letters were burned.
Its last trace of paper also began to curl and turn black as the high temperature approached, and finally disappeared in the red flame.
"You can also call me knight, I think I am more accustomed to this title."
The documents were thrown carelessly on the table, and Luther leaned on his chair, watching the smoke and dust that had not yet dissipated wandering in the air.
hate him
——————
But times have changed.
[Lion] hates disobedience.
Luther lowered his head, and there were documents in front of him. They were nothing new: requesting support, requesting survival supplies, requesting temporary evacuation, requesting ammunition supplies, or requesting firepower assistance from the cruise fleet.
He opened the star map, looked for the location of the 23rd Regiment, weighed the importance of the front they were on, and finally wrote the answer: There are no reinforcements, and you can get up to 50% of the requested supplies. The following is
After a batch of supplies arrives, an additional base will be replenished.
The Luther Knight may have disappeared.
In this way, another document was selected: the 23rd Kranos Regiment of the Mortal Auxiliary Army requested new supplies of materials and ammunition. This mixed army of 1.28 million people was independently stationed at a building on the edge of the front.
In the semi-permanent fortress world, they were one of the first troops to participate in the battle of Randan. They suffered a near-destructive blow in the fierce battle of Shana in the forge world.
He remembers that time, he remembers it clearly, he remembers how when the [Lion] returned to his legion, he took him with him as if he was carrying a retinue. He remembers that the [Lion] stood in front of everyone.
In front of the Dark Angel, he patted his shoulder like a king, telling everyone that this old man who could not even undergo genetic surgery was his most trusted right-hand man.
Finally, Caliban leaned back in his chair, still holding the letter tightly in his hand.
But Luther was still laughing.
The Luther Knight may have disappeared.
For knights, there is no war, no honor, no days worth charging, fighting and bloodshed. That is torture, a living torture.
Luther was still smiling, but this time, his smile couldn't help but freeze, because he had seen such a look before.
Dark Angel was silent. He didn't say anything more. He just turned around and closed the door.
At the end of the letter, Nemir casually mentioned the situation of the war, the factories and furnaces that had been destroyed and ravaged on the forge world, as well as the comrades who died in the battle between steel, or the new generals.
Stars rise in the endless fighting, and countless blood and flames burn on the battlefield, which is far beyond what this small piece of paper can contain.
Although the part that mentioned the war was just a few cryptic words, Luther read and read it again and again, as if this was some kind of mesmerizing and wonderful masterpiece.
Luther's eyes casually passed over these words without any pause, because every mortal auxiliary army was like this, and the "heavy losses" and "request for support" in the reports never stopped.
All information about the war on the front line must be kept confidential to the greatest extent possible. All file backups are not allowed and must be destroyed after reading.
——————
Nemir simply said hello, and then asked about his cousin Zahariel. In the letter, he still called him by his old title: "Knight Commander Luther", which made the reader's lips curl up.
As the document was sent out, Luther's eyes and thoughts did not pause at all. He quickly threw himself into the next job, which was still the same content: requesting supplies, requesting reinforcements, requesting for help in this damn war.
Everything needed.
He turned his head and looked behind him, looking at the paintings that carried the glory of the past: he saw the day when Zhuang Sen was brought back by him, the day when he personally put on the armor for his adopted son, and the day when Zhuang Sen was brought back by him.
It began to grow bigger, more majestic, and...terrifying.
His former comrades-in-arms, his former brothers, and even his former subordinates, they were enjoying the madness, pain and honor brought by the war wantonly, and they were living as living warriors.
——————
Luther stood up, took a few steps forward, smiled, and took it solemnly. Everything went smoothly. He had done it countless times.
He still remembered those days: the child who was brought back from the deep forest was filled with Luther's longing for the heir who died in infancy. He watched the child grow and learn, and watched him grow rapidly like the legendary son of God.
Transformed into a great warrior, from a savage child beside him to a great and trustworthy knight.
Luther even started...
Luther didn't even notice when he was taller than him. When the [Lion] began to take on strength, his shadow enveloped everyone.
Luther didn't even realize when he started to fear the Lion's every move and regarded him as a leader instead of his own heir and relative.
But this time, after thinking silently, Luther smiled and said one more sentence.
Both the former Luther and the current Luther think so.
Only he, only Luther, was like a stamp. He had to deal with the document every day, every hour, and every minute.
——————
That's the look.
But he can't.
He even had doubts as to whether he had really been a knight. If he was, then he was obviously undergoing unimaginable torture.
He could only laugh.
——————
No one dares to directly disobey his [Lion].
Then, he heard a knock on the door.
——————
Immediately, he picked up the second letter, which was a letter from Seifer. The words in the letter were inevitably a bit obscure, and even contained some code words and references that only the knights of Caliban would understand, but Luther still
Some traces of war can be seen in his description, but this does not prevent him from searching for them as much as possible.
Maybe so.
But his eyes said it all.
Read, read again, sigh, then burn, then pick up the next one...
Because [Lion].
He remembered that no Dark Angel spoke, they neither resisted nor agreed, they just stood there quietly, looking at him.
For a moment, he even wanted to save the letter and read it several times in the future.
He will never forget it.
he thought.
Luther didn't notice when he stood in front of him and became everyone's new leader and hope: no one shouted Luther anymore, everyone would only shout the name of [Lion].
They are weak, sluggish, and have nowhere to run.
He raised his head, trying to see the paintings, but couldn't see them. He had no choice but to squeeze his neck harder.
Sometimes, life really sucks.
When the blond [Lion] caught his eye, Luther couldn't help but think of this.