Chapter 320 In the Infirmary

"This was totally unexpected."

Talos - now completely taking off his power armor for the first time after centuries of service and putting on simple linen robes - the former had already been replaced by the extremely poor hardware condition and was even worse than Dietrian. The mechanical priests outside began to chant strange binary prayers regarding the condition of the machine soul, and were strongly requested to return to the armory for overhaul.

This group of oil guys served a little coquettishly at first, trying to hide their precarious loyalty to the human incarnation of Ohm Messiah. After discovering Dietrian's simple but extremely rich army database and the promise of the Lord of Night, After the fragments of the S·T·C·template, now everyone wants to be a mechanical donkey for the Eighth Army.

That is the STC template fragment promised by the son of the emperor who has probably the best second sight in the universe (as for whether it is a demon or not, the machine spirits have given extremely positive signals at present)! Even if he doesn’t have it in his hands now, judging from the excellent performance of the Lord of the Night’s battle and rule in Thessaguarsa over the past few months, he must definitely have it if he says he can!

"Indeed." Valier sat aside and flicked the data pad in his hand. This former Red Pirate apothecary and apprentice of the Lord of the Corpses was looting the Coronation's infirmary. After that, now the shotgun is replaced by a cannon, and at the same time, the only pharmacist brother of the third company is also ordered around. This poor Astarte just has to remember Valier's never mentioned twice about ward rounds, dispensing, sampling, testing, writing reports, etc. I was so busy waiting for instructions that I hit the back of my head.

“I didn’t expect that after ten thousand years, the probability of new colonists on Thesaguarsa being psykers generated solely by natural mutations would be so high. Although this place was once the second home of our Legion and the world of corpses, But because it is really remote and barren, at least until we left it for the last time, there were actually no things like inanimate beings or rifts in the sea of ​​souls, and even the subspace channels were ordinary. I had never seen anything like this. The production rate of psykers-maybe the Wizard Star of the Fifteenth Legion can be comparable to it, but I haven't seen it with my own eyes."

"The rumors about that planet - it's better not to have the experience of seeing it with your own eyes. I heard about it when I was in Hell Iris. The Scarlet King of the Thousand Sons Wizards seems to be a little off recently."

"You mean those rumors about him starting to lose his grip on the Legion?"

"Exactly. Although becoming a warrior under the wizards of the Fifteenth Legion is definitely not something that people would be eager to do, and the servants of the Lord of Changes have always been unpredictable. There are too many unexplained actions in every part of the universe. Corners unfold every moment.”

"However, there are also some of them in the Black Legion. Abaddon has never stopped being interested in more powerful prophets. I guess this is an inevitable part of everyone who tries to be the leader. The time he recruited me Not a pleasant experience, Lou Wen is a complete idiot."

"With all due respect, Talos, until we met the Lord of the Night, I always thought that you insisting on bringing our whole ship to this border carrion world with high fever and babble. Thesa Guarsa is a failure. The crazy behavior of being responsible and not knowing what you are doing is just like your father back then. Of course, now you are the greatest prophet brother in the history of the Eighth Legion in everyone's mouth. I heard that they have recently begun to think that you may be. He is the greatest prophet among the twenty legions in the galaxy in ten thousand years."

"Ahem! Never mention this in front of the original body. My talent is not one ten thousandth of that of my father - but in the past, the Thousand Sons were still loyal to their father."

"That's true. However, before I left the maelstrom, I also heard that some wizards' silver towers appeared in places where they would not normally appear. Let's not mention them... that's right."

Talos stood up slightly, and the dense tubes on his body moved with his movements. The pink implants and stitched scars on the new wounds were neat and beautiful, showing the skill and calmness of the surgeon - leaving the condolence gifts and snack boxes in front of the hospital bed. It was carefully opened and opened - condolences gifts could only come from the real couple Septimus and Octavia on this ship, and the snack box decorated with midnight-colored wrapping paper and red paint paw prints was terrifying. Coming from the residence of the leader of the Eighth Army, he had to hide them all before others knew about them and came to snatch them, especially the snack box that he was reluctant to open. "What happened to 'those'?"

Valier stopped busy fiddling with the instruments next to Talos's hospital bed and raised his extremely pale eyes. "Two hundred and thirteen failed, and one hundred and nine are ready for harvest." He said briefly and concisely. He replied, "Sixty-one successful ones, all dormant in sterile tanks."

"Does the Primarch know?"

"I haven't told him yet. If you want, I can just destroy them or write them down in the next report."

"...Tell him. After all, I didn't intend for you to die here with us, Valier."

"What do you mean? Do you mean that you didn't originally want me to fight to the death with you in this originally worthless ghost place?"

"We are the remnants of the past, the echoes of the curse. We come back here and die here... Yes, but you are different. You are the Night Lord, but you are not cursed. You hold our last future... Markarian and I planned to send you away before the final landing."

Valier took a breath. He seemed to be smiling, but it was more like he was using a smile to suppress his anger. "Do you know that your words are really annoying sometimes, brother?"

"I rarely see you lose your temper, Valier."

"You always asked too much of me and expected too much from me before, Talos."

"But it's okay now. Our father, our Primarch, our Legion Master has returned."

"Yes. And he looks more like a human father and Legion Master than ever before."

For a while, they were all silent, and only the smell of instruments and disinfectants filled the new infirmary.

As one of the facilities that the Primarch required to be rebuilt, this place is completely different from the place they remembered, which was filled with densely packed rusty steel dissection beds, filled with bloody smells, full of broken limbs and wounded groaning in pain, and the ground was always wet and with sticky blood and suspicious biomass, like a slaughter market.

Talos lay back on the white linen pillow, letting his neck interface, which was coated with anti-itching and anti-inflammatory ointment, be gently and comfortably supported.

"You did a good job, thank you, Valer." Finally, the worst pharmacist of the Eighth Legion thanked him sincerely, "Although you slapped me twice, I am still very grateful that you were willing to come with us at that time. You are a true member of the Night Lords."

"Thank you, I also think I am very professional in my field of work. In addition, we no longer owe each other anything, and there is no need to thank each other so specifically. This is what I should do when I leave the Maelstrom and wear the winged skull of the Night Lords. I will always stand with you because we are brothers who will die together, Talos. No matter what, we have come together to this point, and we are all members of the Eighth Legion."

The prophet lay in the pillow with his eyes and mouth closed, so the pharmacist could not see his expression. He adjusted the nutrient intravenous drip inserted into Talos' wrist combat potion interface to a low speed, and then walked away quietly.