Chapter 759 The Bitter Loser
"You all go out."
"Let me and Kiriman, the original body of the Extreme Warrior Legion, talk alone."
This is the only word that the palmist Makado is waiting for his most distinguished guests to tell the attendants next to him.
In the past 150 years, the actual controller of the empire and the Tyra administration, the old man with a stature, has even more control over the control of the country by the country.
In just one word, the officials, servants, and guards around the Indian seal gave up their post without questioning: ordinary genetic preliminaries are not so easy to convince them to choose the primary guards.
After the last secret bodyguard also left silently, the precious tranquility was like an old friend who had been reunited for a long time, and hugged with Makodo enthusiastically: the palm printer had already exhausted brain, and finally could finally be able to finally. A brief rest for a while.
In the Parliament Hall of the Parliament, the best sculptors of the Galaxy, the perfect and flawless work created by the whole life of the whole life did not attract Mako's attention. He The sight was just a moment before a lifelike emperor statue.
"I hope these things are in your plan that you will never end."
The handprint murmured to himself, and slowly paced to the statue of the emperor, and the dry palm stroked the dimension of the laurel: he watched this impeccable artwork, just like watching his previous six thousand years of life. Essence
After a while, he began to complain about Badabbu and Kiriman.
"I thought there would be conflicts, but I never thought it would be a conflict with him from the beginning."
"But think about it after the incident, Kiriman is indeed the most likely one."
"In all your drunk works, he is the most outstanding and the most ambitious one: no matter who is sitting on the sacred Tyra, he cannot tolerate your child like me and tolerate your child. "" "
"But even me, now I must let him swallow the failure of the failure."
"I will push Marcrag: Push from our side and team."
"This is not distressed."
"After all, from the beginning, we did not expect the power of Kiriman and the five hundred worlds."
"They are only suitable for self -entertainment: now it is not the age when Kiriman can play a role."
"Moreover, you have guaranteed me."
"You believe your son of revenge will not stand on our opposite side and become our enemy."
"..."
"You'd better have a bamboo, Apocalypse."
The handprint shook his head, and he lost his interest in talking to himself.
But before leaving, Makado looked up at the sculpture in front of him again.
"The craftsmanship is really good and lifelike."
"But the problem is that it is too lifelike."
"Only looking for the advantages, but there is no courage to recognize the shortcomings."
"Instead, it becomes an unprepared manner,"
"In the end, it can only be regarded as a sculptor that reached the peak: but definitely not an artist."
The handprint is closer again: the name of the master of the work is on the base.
"Sure enough, Fergrem?"
"That kid: Sooner or later, he and his legion will suffer a lot because of this."
"However, then again ..."
"Why do I get the context of the fate of Fergorim every time?"
"I always see Luo Jia ..."
The voice of the palm seal gradually drifted away, drifting across the other end of the room: an exclusive contemporary person was placed there. As the only servant who did not leave, he faithfully fulfilled his long -term responsibility and will change the outside world. Multi -information is sent to Makado.
The ancient letter -like letter as the reporting machine reminded that it is the voice that Makado wants to hear most: outside his vision, his servants are reporting loyally.
"Kiriman is about to arrive."
"Horus has boarded the ship."
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"I hope that I can be a pure and neutral witness, and the historians representing future generations of piety in writing this period of history are witnessed here: because human history is worth remembering, and forgetfulness is It is the most cruel torture in the Milky Way, it should not be applied to the compatriots. "
"As early as we just stepped on this great expedition, the emperor taught us like this: isn't it, two?"
Zhan Shuai spread out his arms, and his eyes were concentrated on the face of the palm print.
But the result disappointed him: Makado did not even open his eyelids, and the old monk's fixed turtle shrank in his position, as if everything in the Galaxy had nothing to do with him: as if he was not two powerful primary in front of him Essence
But the shepherd god is not angry. He knows what occasion is, and he also knows that the anger of the primary is invalid: the conflict on Tyra was still vividly remembered. The Holus that day may not retreat from the whole body of the palace, even if he was the emperor's favorite son.
But the other way: Why isn't Makado the most attractive slave of the emperor?
The shepherd god kept a smile, and he patiently waited for the person to respond.
And he just waited for a minute.
"You are the original body."
"If you think: What qualifications do I have to expel you here?"
"After all, this is your father's boat."
Finally, as if he had just reacted, Malcador's voice sounded so dry and weak, and the tattered black robe hung on his frail body. Compared with the two tall and strong Primarchs, it seemed that he was the one who was forced to swallow the defeat.
What an old drama.
The Warmaster snorted in his heart with disdain.
But on the surface, he just turned to his brother calmly: Guilliman and Malcador echoed each other, each sitting at the two ends of a mahogany round table, and the space between them was enough to sit twenty people.
And with the Primarch's efficient brain like a machine, Horus sat between the two impartially. He did not become too alienated from Malcador, nor did he seem to be very close to Guilliman: when the Warmaster looked around the large hall and did not find the fourth person besides them, his pupils flashed with thought.
"Guilliman, my brother."
The Warmaster smiled at Macragge.
"You agree with what I said just now, right?"
"..."
Guilliman's face was not very good, but he still maintained a qualified etiquette.
"Every Ultramarines disdains to cover up any of their past."
"And as you said, Horus: Any ceremony requires a witness."
The Primarch's eyes turned to the Sigillite: When Guilliman carefully looked at the actual controller of the imperial power and the source of humiliation for the Five Hundred Worlds, he neither looked at the resentment of the war enemy nor the respect of the Imperial Chancellor. In the pupils of the Primarch, it was like a pool of stagnant water.
"Although it is full of arrogance and misfortune."
The two negotiators said nothing more. There were only Horus's polite words to warm up the atmosphere, making the Warmaster more like the real owner: the ability of the Wolf God is indeed excellent. Although his two listeners are as boring as stones, relying only on his smile and on-the-spot reaction, after a few minutes of monologue, the Warmaster finally made the negotiation look more formal.
The historians in the future will thank him.
Horus muttered quietly in his heart.
Just as he was thinking about how to get the two masters to speak, the Sigillite had already stood up, and the invisible majesty was like psychic energy enveloping him. The old breath a few minutes ago had long disappeared. When his eyes shot out from the shadow under the black robe, even Horus unconsciously straightened his spine.
Then, Malcador waved his hand, and there was a sound from the mahogany table. The original tabletop retreated like a tide, and was replaced by a huge star map. The blue light illuminated the pupils of the two Primarchs, and they saw clearly that this was the border of the empire.
Terra, Macragge, Badab and Baimon: the new capital that Horus had chosen for himself not long ago was accurately marked on the star map, along with the borders of the various Primarchs and the so-called [Terra Sky Territory].
In the east of Terra's Sky Territory, a large area of star regions that overlapped with the Great Vortex region was highlighted, with names such as Badab and Betangamon listed prominently: Obviously, this was the [Badab Hegemony Region] that Holy Terra and the Five Hundred Worlds had repeatedly fought over in the past few months.
It was also the territory that Guilliman would have to cede after [defeat].
"You don't want to waste time, Primarch?"
Malcador asked, and Guilliman's somewhat gloomy eyes answered him.
"Seal Master: I don't want to stay on this battleship for a second."
"Very good."
Malcador nodded.
"Then let's make it short: I've also gotten tired of red tape."
After that, he pointed to the star map.
"Everything we want to discuss is on this star map: I've marked it."
"Take a look."
Hearing this, Guilliman and Horus raised their heads at the same time.
The two Primarchs noticed the border of the Five Hundred Worlds at the same time: in the middle of Badab and Ultramar, a brutal line was marked, with Guilliman's undisputed territory to the east and Badab's disputed airspace to the west.
The attitude of the Sigillite was self-evident: this line was the border between Macragge and the Five Hundred Worlds from now on.
The land to the west of this line was no longer a treasure that they could touch.
"My explorers have been working overtime in the past few months to clearly mark this border: I can assure you that this border will not affect any world in Ultramar. You just gave up something you can't control, and your own property will not be lost."
He was right.
Horus thought in his heart.
Because at the edge of this line, he could see several familiar names. The Wolf God knew that these worlds were the westernmost end of Ultramar in the traditional sense: and in the cosmic domains outside them, Guilliman's claims and rule were not very tenable.
However, this also means that this line is drawn exactly along the core territory of the Five Hundred Worlds: that is, it also deprives Ultramar of all its buffer zones in the west, exposing their borders directly to the forefront of the battle.
And for a behemoth of the size of the Five Hundred Worlds, depriving them of all buffer zones near their core territory seems to be no different from invading their core territory: no major country will remain indifferent to this.
Unless they have just lost the war.
"Justice, but also harsh."
Kiriman stared at the line, and he spent three minutes to patrol back and forth, and confirmed that every inch of details above: As Makado said before, this national line did not offend the territorial territories of the world. Essence
But it offense worse.
"Are you planning to let Tella Tian lead directly to the 500 world?"
After a little silent, Kiriman asked with doubt: He didn't believe Makado would be stupid.
"No."
Sure enough, as the handprint waved again, the star map in front of the three had a new change.
I saw a series of large and small independent regimes of the western territory that was forced to spit out, and the remaining part of the land was generously divided into the mastery of several primary countries nearly. middle.
The white scar and the son of the emperor got the most and the richest areas, and the fire lizard expanded silently, and even the land of the swallowers was a long circle: these smaller primary bodies The country has become the new neighbor of the five hundred worlds in the West.
There is no mistake, one, one, one, one, one, one, one, one 619, one book, one, one, one, one, one, one, a book!
Behind them, it is the dozens of small regimes that sacred Tyra from Badabo's hegemony: I want to know that these more independent small states can never resist the orders of Tella. They were placed on the mouth of the high leaders.
After them, it is the new frontier that the sacred Tyra defined for herself: if compared with the Badabu crisis, this frontier is actually not too new, and its main body still stagnates in the Bandgumon area. It seems that the veterans of the sacred Tyra are not interested in the victory of this great victory and open up the country.
If you really want to say, the biggest territorial change is nothing but Provello, who belongs to Qianzi, completely disappeared from the star map, becoming a new land in Tyra. However, considering Magnus's special Sex, all three people present ignored this.
"I notice one thing."
When Kiriman kept silent, Horus seemed to be inadvertently smiling at the palm seede.
"Do Tysla do not plan to put the big vortex under his stronger protection?"
"Emperor Emperor's chosen Governor of the Great Vortex was Foggrem, the son of Emperor Shoufu."
Makado just answered so.
"The sacred Tara will protect the rights of the vortex in her own way."
"How to protect it?"
Horus asked.
"Do you even intend to further expand the scope of Tylatian leader?"
"The territory is the territory set by the emperor, and Tara is not qualified to change at will."
"But they ..."
The handprint stretched out his hand and pointed to the big vortex that became a quarter of the fracture: because of his angle, Horus couldn't see what Maca was pointing at the end.
Is he pointing at the small country wandering like a duckweed, or at those countries that seem to have gained a lot of benefits in this Padabu crisis: or ambitious to point out All of them?
"They will become the Tyrafa district."
"French District?"
This time, Kiriman was asked.
"What's the meaning?"
"The rough scope of Tellatian leaders will not exceed the rules set by the emperor, but the scope of Tyra's responsibility is far more than that: in the new vortex, although they will not accept Tyla's direct leadership, However, they will act with Tyra's law and have the power to obtain the direct military protection of Tella. "
That's it ...
Horus's body reappeared.
He thought it was fresh ...
Tyrafa: These high -leaders have set up a new word for their influence.
"Tyra's law ..."
The Macragians chewed this sentence: After a while, he suddenly raised his head and stared sharply at the palm print.
"Also including my five hundred worlds?"
As soon as this statement came out, even the temperature next to the round table seemed to have dropped a lot.
"Of course not."
The palm print was unpredictable: his tone seemed to be slightly softened.
"After the treaty is signed, the former contradictions and disputes will be sold in one stroke: Since the five hundred world has proved his loyalty, Trara will also respect the power of the 500 worlds. Will be questioned by anyone again. "
"The newly established Tylafa area is obliged to pay Tyra's eleven taxes, but the problem of the 500 worlds is put on hold first: even if we will discuss taxes in the future, we will be based on the premise of communication and negotiation. Without the permission of your local princes, Holy Trara will not collect taxes from any world in the narrow world. "
"Is this a promise?"
Kiriman's fingers pressed the desktop.
The palm seal just laughed and set his gaze to Horus aside.
"No: This is the history that will be recorded."
"……very good."
At this moment, even the Makragos's momentum seems to be a lot weakened.
Horus knew that his brother had lost the last courage to continue fighting after being guaranteed to the bottom line of his heart: emotional surrender, but he was not qualified to condemn Kiriman's weakness.
but……
Looking at the dragon fighting in front of him, the shepherd god suddenly felt inspired.
A ray of light, a ray of light that seemed to have never appeared in his nearly two hundred years of life, a ray of light that seemed to belong only to people like Morgan, kissed the dry mind of the Wolf God at this moment.
He knocked on the table, signaling the seal holder to pay attention to his words.
"In other words, the Five Hundred Worlds are no longer allowed to expand their territory westward?"
"That's right."
The seal holder nodded.
"And at the same time, Terra's tax collectors are not allowed to visit Ultramar without reason?"
"That's right."
Nodded again.
"What's wrong, Warmaster?"
"Nothing, I'm just curious..."
The Wolf God grinned.
"Did we miss something?"
"Since this is a gentleman's agreement that needs to be signed by both of you, then naturally a third party is needed: a person who has no interest in this agreement at all, to assume the responsibility of the supervisor from now on."
"You mean..."
"That's right."
Horus smiled.
"If you don't mind."
"Please leave a few worlds for the Luna Wolves to build outposts or small military bases on the edge of the so-called Terrafar Zone and the Five Hundred Worlds: If that doesn't work, a few asteroids will also work."
"I will send a Luna Wolves team to station there to supervise the implementation of the treaty by both parties and the attitude of Badab Prime: Don't worry, I will only send a few dozen people, and their most powerful weapons are their tongues and eyes."
"Let me, the Warmaster, make my own efforts for this peace."
"..."
Malcador was silent for a while.
He instinctively felt that Horus must have another purpose for this suggestion.
But what could it be?
He couldn't think of it.
Unconsciously, Malcador's eyes looking at the Wolf God had changed.
He looked at the Primarch, but Horus did not reveal anything except a smile that did not contain any information: compared with the last confrontation between the two on Holy Terra, the current Warmaster has undoubtedly matured a lot.
He barely deserves this position.
Malcador sighed in his heart like a true elder.
Then, he put all these aside and turned to look at the silent Guilliman.
"What do you think of this, Primarch?"
"No."
Guilliman was brief and to the point: at this moment, even his soul was gray.
But Malcador had no compassion, he just took out the treaty he had prepared in private: the specific content was of course more detailed than what he had just said, and the main text was used to confuse the audience, weakening the crisis into a conflict, and erasing the humiliation suffered by the Five Hundred Worlds as much as possible on paper.
Of course, all this cannot be truly erased, and the Sigillite is just deceiving himself.
But he no longer has the energy to waste on this matter and this Primarch.
"Then sign it."