Chapter 458 The Best Way to Relieve Stress by Saving the Universe

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"I...I can't...What have I become?! What have I become?! My skin...my skin!!! Ah!!! Soltarn! Phil Hammer! Who is coming? Help!"

Although this cry had been mixed with a familiar feeling that made Uriel feel uncomfortable: he heard part of his own timbre in another person's voice, but he still felt it out of some natural or The trained duty is to try to bring the other person's sanity back to reality. They were now in a critical situation, and just crying would not solve any problem.

"Samokuan? Is that you? Look at me! Hey! Wake up!" Uriel carefully grabbed the other person and shook him, not even daring to use too much force to grab the other person's shoulders that were now as broad and strong as his own - —The top is still covered with a weak layer because it just left the amniotic membrane. In the acidic mucus, you can see a few strands of his original skin hanging here and there in a few places. Other than that, there is nothing. The bright red and plump muscles and white thick tendons are exposed to the hot and humid air here. The mucus on the tissue surface is beginning to evaporate and dry out rapidly.

Uriel turned his head and looked around again. The cries and groans of the victims and slaves continued to come from the depths and top of the darker cave. The hissing of steam, the swallowing of pipes, and the sound of boiling huge blood lakes added to the atmosphere. The beating accompaniment of the devil's heart.

Their movements have not attracted anyone's attention here for the time being, which is good, but now the top priorities he faces have changed from simply completing the death oath to becoming more and more difficult.

Maybe he could find and rescue Pasanius first, and then go to the Blood Lake with him to find a way to destroy the core here, but what should he do with this child?

Uriel didn't know what to call the current Samokan: the boy he knew had already possessed the physique of an Astartes in such a short period of time, but his appearance and mind... could sustain everything. ? Without a long period of rigorous, blessed and monitored brainwashing and hypnosis training...his mental state...he doesn't even have his own skin...wait, so where's the black carapace part of him? They were supposed to be implanted under the skin! Without the black carapace, even if he could find some temporary power armor parts here, they would not be able to wear the armor for Samo unless they could complete all the steps.

Damn it.

...Could it be that he broke this blasphemous demon farm in advance and turned Samokuan into such an unfortunate half-finished product?

Uriel tried his best to put this thought and its extended meaning aside, his mind was spinning, and he was thinking about their next way out.

Or, he can also choose to rescue his sergeant. Then since this place has been clearly scouted, they should not run away so quickly. They may be able to find a way to escape from this devil's cave with Samokuan first. To find Soltarn? Soltarn is actually a powerful psyker, and Samokan is close to him...

The former Ultramarine's eyes unconsciously returned to Samokan, who was covered in scarlet red. He discovered with complicated emotions that the other tissues in the boy's body, except for the black carapace, might have completed growth in an incredible way. The thought of doing this for them The enemy's efficiency in producing new blood, a steady stream of innocent imperial children were turned into enemies of their hometown and parents, and the eyes of fear emerged and became the accomplices of the enemy. Uriel's blood boiled.

"Samokuan!" He came closer to the other person, staring at the pair of gray eyelidless eyes, and at the same time wiped the mucus and blood on his face vigorously, revealing the other person's familiar facial features, "Samokuan! It's me! It's me! Look at me! I'm... Phil Hammer!"

Perhaps a certain voice or name touched the tearful boy. The eyes of the boy withdrew from his own bright red muscles and slowly focused on the face of the person in front of him.

"Phil... Hammer? Phil Hammer! Are you here to save me?! What should I do? I am now..."

"There's no time for that now."

Uriel said seriously, "You are at least half a Septon Astartes now. Follow me."

I don’t know what it was or what caused him to change. After recognizing Uriel, Samokan’s mood stabilized obviously quickly. The former Ultramarine was shocked to find that the man he knew so well was always The expressive children who had scorned Pasanius, followed Soltarn, or learned arithmetic from him had begun to rapidly disappear from the body of the half-grown Astartes before him, and were replaced by An expression that Uriel himself was very familiar with:

The look of a warrior who knows his duty but whose emotions have become less intense.

When the misshapen guard who next spotted them rushed towards them, brandishing their weapons, Samokuan only froze for a moment, naturally settling into his favorite attacking position before Uriel told him to.

Uriel Ventress smashed his fist into a guard's eye socket while vaguely remembering the impassioned speech he made to the traitors before sneaking into the fortress:

"—We are Space Marines! One of the purposes for which we were created is to fight against our enemies! Fight! Fight!"

The snapping sound of broken bones and metal joints made him turn his gaze.

Samokuan's body was covered in blood and tissue fluid, but this did not stop him from breaking the second guard's spine with his knee.

The boy was taking the opponent's weapon in his hand, looking at the deadly blade curiously.

Uriel suddenly felt the weight of a certain responsibility.

The rosary began to warm him.

"Come, follow me, we're going to find Anverk... His other name is Pasanius, and I still have a lot to teach you on the way..."

——————Being stupid and sucking furry dogs is the best way to relieve stress in saving the universe. Let me do it————————

Just as the tragicomedy of cruel death was being staged in the Eye of Terror.

Calixis Sector, Wandering in the Port.

"You have to admit that this is not easy."

Perturabo BC said, while manipulating his vehicle arm to put the new dish he had just tasted back to its original position.

To others, this was the younger but more severe of the two archons of the dynasty who put down the new dish in his hand.

The "delicious and nutritious" restaurant, now known as the "Sacrament House" in several nearby star regions - now launches a new dish every month, and the enthusiasm of a certain archon from a food country to develop different cooking methods and various new recipes for the same ingredients is rising.

Of course, this must also be attributed to Mr. Ramizane who suddenly realized when he was lazy one day that in addition to asking the officers to produce various Hammer 40,000 imitation delicacies when ordering food in the officers' cafeteria, when he was sitting in his own restaurant, he could actually designate any Astartes he liked to go to the kitchen to cook or bake something for him.

In this way, he could then enthusiastically and luxuriously evaluate the different characteristics of the same dish made by each person due to their respective personalities and legion attributes.

As soon as he thought of this, the salted fish who had been lying down and had begun to revert to his old ways immediately sat up and became very interested in this "extremely boring and distracting little thing" in Perturabo BC's mouth.

After experiencing all kinds of strange bloody incidents (referring to the unreasonable incidents that Astartes would cut their fingers when cutting ingredients and the chopping board would absorb blood and leave a red light on the chef's knife), kitchen explosions (people awe-inspiringly said that the stove in the Holy Communion was a volcano that judged sinners, and the fuel under it was the sinners who failed the trial), sewer blockages (not only with strange randomness but also always blocked one and cleared the other), poisonous food (although not poisonous, everyone believed that its appearance, smell and taste were seriously offensive to any creature with ethical concepts), and biohazards (referring to the inexplicable increase of some moving protein components in the cooked food) -

Lord Ramizane concluded that the upper and lower limits of cooking for most of the Emperor's Children were ridiculously high, which was in line with the Third Legion's pursuit of perfection - or, in other words, extreme personality. For example, Sol Tarvitz's cooking was rare, and he could always maintain a certain stable high standard but not too extreme.

This outstanding officer of the Third Legion has achieved a beautiful balance between cooking speed, taste and cost, and Lucius... the guy whose atmosphere with other officers of Ironheart has now dropped to absolute zero, is not a bad cook or dessert...

Although he is quite wasteful in the cost of ingredients and cooking methods, such as turning an apple peach into pulp and juice, separating them and refreezing them, adding whipped Steger milk and imported Far Eastern cane sugar, and then carefully recombining them layer by layer to make fake fruit cores and peels, which is a meaningless and redundant move - but at least the finished product is indeed flawless in taste and appearance, or it can be said that the strength of this champion swordsman who has no idea what he might have become is to make dishes such as stir-frying with high heat, which is really quite suitable.

Lucius's main problem is that this son of the Emperor, who is now crazy about the Lord of Red Sand, will write "In the name of His Highness Angron" or "Dedicated to the most powerful and perfect in the world" in cursive script on every dish, dessert or latte art he makes, and then pull out the portrait of Angron Petra next to it, and he never changes his behavior.

The dishes made by the members of the 14th Legion do not have any special taste or problems. ——But the biggest problem is that there is no special taste or problem. Whether they make butter oatmeal porridge or fried alfalfa cakes, they will miraculously make it bland and tasteless. Even when making glutinous rice lemon tea, the effect of "the fragrance of this cup of fruit tea disappears with its soul and only leaves a strange taste" will be obtained in the end. Strictly following the dosage method or even adding more seasonings will not help.

The Moon Wolves were originally quite good at cooking, but as they learned the secrets of Ramizane: a certain type of peculiar grill, silver charcoal, imported complex mixed spices, and the fascinating method of cutting and piercing meat, as well as the guiding idea of ​​how to use some rice brought by distant traders that could not be baked into bread but was originally used to cook thick stew to brew pure white low-alcohol wine... "I really often wonder, are the people we rescued really the Moon Wolves and not some other wild wolves? Why are the wines they brew getting stronger and stronger? And this barbecue has been upgraded to the square? If this continues, it won't be a problem to directly paint their power armor with Fenris blue and lemon yellow!" And the food made by the coalition cooks of the Fourth Legion and the Seventh Legion seriously (competing with each other), emmmmm... It's not that there is a problem. Theoretically, it can be eaten, the appearance is normal, and the nutrients and formula are used very correctly, but I don't know why. They are all very unpleasant to the teeth, and the direction of the unpleasantness is not quite the same.

Why is this? Why are the desserts from the Imperial Fists chefs, from waffles to apricot pie, all as hard as reinforced concrete bricks, while the dishes from the precious Iron Warriors (?) are all dedicated to making diners solve puzzles before eating and then bite open the hedgehog-like shells in the correct order? ——Perturabo BC sneered at Mr. Ramizane, who was confused.

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"This new portable food you developed with Saul Tarvitz is great, but no one will buy it. You said you would sell it to the ship owner - who would buy it for their crew?"

"Why? This is a supply point for adventurers and the navy, I mean..."

"Later, when I said it's not easy, I was talking about the last sentence you said to me."

"Which one? Oh, wait, you mean the thing we talked about before the meal. You mean, suppose we can turn back time and go back to change something in this universe, but it's not easy to change the main events of the universe, not like people think, a butterfly's airflow will form a storm?"

"That's right." Perturabo BC nodded, the new lumens they installed for the hundreds of meters high dome of the Court of the Dead formed a beautiful artificial sunlight, sprinkled on his fair face, the indelible hatred and pain of countless years and events in the past carved deep wrinkles on him, making him always have a melancholy and severe temperament, but his eyes are now deep, clear and focused. A girl hurried past the window, looked at the two archons shyly, left her ribbon rose with prayers and hymns written on it under the window, and ran away quickly like a deer.

"Because even if you specify a butterfly of a certain place name, there can still be many butterflies of the same species in that place name at that time, and there can also be many storms in another place, and even both can have multiple choices in the same place. So if you just casually affect a small thing, first of all, you can't point to the thing you ultimately want to change; secondly..."

"Secondly, if you catch the butterfly that originally produced storm A, it may not necessarily change storm B produced in the same place, that is, they are considered two different storms in the macroscopic scale of time, but if they are only one kilometer apart or occur 30 minutes before and after, then for most of the recipients of the events at that time who will be attacked by them, the main time event is not completely changed?" Ramizane suddenly said.

"That's right... It's gratifying that you seem to have finally started to use a cell in my brain."

"So..." Ramizann's lazy face rarely showed a solemn expression, "Even if you can go back to the past to correct time, it may not necessarily have a decisive impact on truly major events? This is a bit unreasonable."

"That depends on the specific correction method and..." The dog paused and smiled, "The number and degree of correction... This is a delicate job that requires a patient forger. Because correcting it is like bending steel with force. No matter how strong the force is, rough and direct bending will only break the steel, but heating and repeatedly beating the steel will gradually become the shape you want."

"I see! Hey!" Ramizann's face suddenly showed an idiotic smile.

The dog began to lean back vigilantly, and at the same time reached out to pull the curtains.

"You are really the smartest and most beautiful puppy in the world, Pepe! You are worthy of you! Hey-ah!"

"Don't jump over and bury my mane directly! Damn it! Let me remove this layer of camouflage first!"