MTL - Serious People, Who is Learning Magic at Marvel?-v16 Chapter 147 So it was (four k)

indeed so.

Guilliman smiled wryly after he left—yes, it might be hard to believe, but Robert Guilliman really didn't want anyone else to interfere with his work.

Dealing with government affairs is complicated and time-consuming, and at the same time it is always thankless, so he has no free time to do his own things. But, that's what he was created for.

He was created to multitask, a born statesman and leader of officials. If he doesn't take that responsibility, who can?

Neither can Sanguinius, the archangel's mind is too delicate and complicated. He can't make up his mind to make the decisions that should be made. If he is allowed to sit in this chair, Guilliman is sure that Sanguinius will directly announce that many worlds will be exempted from taxes for ten years on the first day of taking office. To make their civilians feel better.

But this is unrealistic.

Guilliman wanted to do the same, but he couldn't—he couldn't.

An empire cannot function without the backing of taxes.

Sighing, Guilliman wanted to keep working and forced himself to focus on it. But he suddenly remembered a sentence.

"Have you asked them?"

It was his father's voice.

He seemed to be back on Terra, when, just after the War of Defense, the Emperor sat behind him, patiently teaching him questions that Guilliman had never thought of before.

"You should have asked them, Robert. You can't arrange everyone's path. It's good to have a job...but everyone has their own ideas."

Is that right?

Guilliman lowered his head thoughtfully. Maybe it was true. He should ask Sanguinius for his opinion before deciding on the matter, instead of directly vetoing his wishes. After all, he has been studying how to handle government affairs for a while...

It is indeed not a wise idea to directly reject his idea. Guilliman suddenly realized this—his reason for doing this was for the good of Sanguinius, and he didn't want Sanguinius to feel guilty and regretful because of the chain reaction after making a bad decision.

But why not Sanguinius?

I see.

Robert Guilliman thought for a long time, and suddenly laughed helplessly.

It turns out that for so long, we have been hurting each other under the banner of being good for each other.

Ok.

He picked up the personal terminal and dialed Sanguinius' communication. A few seconds later, the communication was connected, and the voice of the archangel came from it: "What's the matter, Robert?"

"I want to invite you to my office, Sanguinius, and I want to tell you something." Guilliman said softly. "Oh, you'd better take your notebook. I'm afraid you'll have to write something down."

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While the Crimson Fists and the Black Templars sailed their ships into the depths of the Octarius sector, those left on Sigmar Ustaly were clearing the battlefield.

Not everyone has to go to the war, they did send some people to join the expeditionary force, but, as a forge world, Sigma Ustali must have sufficient defense. This is necessary.

Insmara-1-Gama watched the hordes of autochanters go away, worried a little about their chassis. The uneven ground after the war can easily cause these mechanical creations to fall, and their chassis and wheels cannot withstand this harsh environment.

At this moment, a voice from someone she hated very much sounded in the communication channel: "Come to the wreckage of the Seventh Foundry in the west, you are needed to command the servant here—ah, you stupid guy, that is Material delivery pipe, put it down!"

The speaker shouted in frustration through the communication channel: "I said, put it down! Damn it, all you have to clean up are the corpses of those beasts and the collapsed stones. Who told you to move the material delivery pipeline?" ? I really want to disassemble your core and see your thinking array!"

"Be gentle with the servitors," said Father Insmara calmly, with a touch of schadenfreude. "You won't make the God of Myriad Chances happy if you do this."

"You don't understand the **** of all things at all! You don't even want to abandon those weak organic parts of you! Stop talking to me, **** it, come here, Father Insmara! Or I will report to the sages You stayed there for half a day doing nothing!"

"You go."

Yinsmara laughed disdainfully: "We keep yelling that we don't understand the God of Myriad Machines, but you don't even have the most basic tolerance for a machine servant. Don't you know that they can only execute the simplest orders? huh? That's ridiculous, stop talking to me, you makeover."

After saying this, she withdrew from the communication channel, and then continued to stare at the team of chanters in a daze.

Coincidentally, above the orbit of Sigma Ustari, the Faithful Herald, a Retribution-class battleship, is also doing their post-battle cleanup.

"Stay still, soldier."

Sister Staci held down the screaming soldier gently but resolutely, gave him a strong anesthetic, and immediately saw off the broken carapace on his chest and abdomen with a special surgical saw. The wound down there was horrible, and the orcs' poorly crafted ammunition made it difficult to heal.

The flying shrapnel got stuck in his chest and abdomen, creating a huge wound, and his internal organs were bleeding violently. It's no wonder that he was in such pain.

She frowned, then turned to another soldier standing beside her and said, "I'm sorry, the tools in my hand can't help him, this soldier must be sent to the medical cabin."

"But, sister, the medical bay is full," the soldier replied bewilderedly.

Staci sighed, there was no way, although those respected angels sent them such precious treasures, but the quantity was not many. But what more could you ask for? Such a selfless act should have been appreciated, not demanded more.

"I'll give him some injections, and you take him to the emergency room, right there. As soon as the medical bay is emptied, he'll be sent in, and the rest..."

The nun closed her eyes: "Let us pray for the Emperor's mercy."

The soldier immediately pushed his companion lying on the cart and left, not forgetting to thank the nun. But Staci felt no joy in her heart, only self-blame. They had won, and so many of the Emperor's loyal soldiers had been mortally wounded, and she couldn't be of much help.

Her self-blame made her feel a little down-but, this matter will pass, and war is the eternal theme song in the galaxy.

Let's turn our attention back to the Crimson Fist and the Black Templar.

Helbrecht, who arrived for a long time late, listened patiently to Angard's retelling, nodding from time to time. After the Emperor's Champion finished his narration, the High Marshal nodded in approval.

"This is the way to deal with these hateful aliens!" He said in a deep voice. "If Lord Steve's plan can be successful, then we may be able to gain a firm foothold in the Octarius galaxy on our own, and lay a net to intercept and kill that **** face tearer along the way."

Speaking of this, he frowned dissatisfiedly: "The Eldar's words are simply changeable weather, saying that the face tearer is behind us, and saying that it hasn't set off yet... Humph. "

He snorted coldly: "If it wasn't for Lord Guilliman's sake, I would have killed her immediately!"

Helbrecht's words were naturally sincere, but Anjade knew very well that the Supreme Marshal might not be able to defeat the Eldar in a single fight.

However, he didn't say that.

"Supreme Marshal, what did you talk to Lord Pedro before?" Anjade asked.

Helbrecht missed Pedro's visit due to his meditations, but he quickly made it to the command room and later had a private conversation with Pedro in the corridor outside. In this regard, Anjiade was very curious about the content of their conversation.

Speaking of this, Helbrecht quickly showed a smile.

"Battlemaster Pedro wants to share with us his experience in fighting the orcs," he said. "I agree, I can't think of a reason for refusing, what do you think?"

"I think it's a good thing, Marshal."

Anjiade also showed a surprised smile—not to mention that the Crimson Fist has been fighting the orcs, and their experience will definitely help the Black Templar. The meaning hidden behind this incident is the most important. This is the Crimson Fist headed by Pedro Canto, sending a friendly signal to the Black Templar.

It couldn't be better.

"That's true, but this exchange will be held after the expedition is over. The main thing right now is to kill that damned orc."

The moment of happiness just revealed seemed to be just an illusion, Helbrecht frowned again: "I will ask the Second Company Commander Sicarius tonight to see what nonsense that Eldar said today ...I'm reaching the limit of my tolerance for it."

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"My patience with you is almost at the limit, Liz Hesperax."

Sicarius called out her full name solemnly. The second company commander of the Ultramarines crossed his arms, watching the Eldar huddled in the corner of his room holding a bucket of ice cream and eating endlessly, the corners of his eyes twitched.

"Oh? Why do you say that?"

"It's been so long... You're talking about that face-tearer every day, but the next day you always overturn your so-called 'feeling' from the previous day."

Sicarius looked at her sullenly, and asked word for word, "You'd better give me an explanation—besides, get out of my room."

Liz didn't even look at him, and even waved the spoon she used to eat ice cream at him in dissatisfaction: "Go away, you're blocking it!"

Block what?

The answer is to block her from watching a series of otherworldly entertainment projects projected by the pattern to pass the time—Sicarius never expected that this Eldar would discover the pattern without a teacher in such a short period of time There are features about entertainment in this regard.

In addition to eating ice cream these days, she watched these products from another world called TV dramas, and she didn't look like a so-called arena champion at all.

It's just like a useless person.

If she just simply does nothing, that's fine.

But the problem now is very serious. The Astartes and the two Primarchs on the two ships are counting on the coordinates in the Eldar's mind to intercept the Facetearer and complete Guilliman's mission. In this case, Sicarius was annoyed by her behavior as if stomping on his head.

"You shameless Eldar!" Sicarius was furious. "It's fine to stay in my room. It's okay for my personal reputation to be damaged because of you. As long as I can complete the task, it's all worth it, but how dare you do that?!"

"What did I do?"

Liz looked at him inexplicably: "Didn't I explain everything? The coordinates of the face tearer have been changing because something is interfering with my perception in the subspace."

"Didn't you say that your **** gave you guidance?"

Liz frowned: "Inniyed did give me guidance, yes, but that doesn't mean she is omniscient and omnipotent. Death is powerful, but not invincible. We worship her because she is worthy, not because of her Possesses invincible power—and besides, isn't your **** infallible?"

"I don't believe in any gods." Sicarius replied bluntly.

"Oh, these words are interesting, they come from a race protected by two gods." Liz sneered. "Do you know how lucky you are?"

"Take back your words."

Sicarius narrowed his eyes, expressionless, but the atmosphere in the room changed in an instant. All his irritation and doubts vanished at this moment, leaving only the deepest, most silent peace.

Liz saw that he had put his hand on the plasma pistol at his waist.

"Or I let you take it back. UU Reading www.uukanshu.com" Sicarius said slowly. "Don't jump to conclusions, come Liz Hesperax, I don't want to be your enemy, but that doesn't mean I can't. Calling them gods is an insult... Do you understand?"

The Queen of the Night looked at the Astartes who suddenly became unfamiliar, and was silent for a while, but the series projected by the pattern was still broadcasting steadily. The conversations of the characters in the play sounded in the room as the background sound, and they were continuous, mixed with some canned laughter.

"I see." Liz Hesperax nodded. "I apologize for what I said, but you must understand that I am also eager to complete the task that Inniyed gave me, just like you, but this matter cannot be changed because of personal wishes."

Sicarius slowly lowered his hand from the plasma pistol.

The second company commander looked back at the projection of the eye lines. The ordinary and happy lives of the characters in the play made his eyes a little complicated, but it was only for a moment. When he turned his head again, his expression had returned to that serious look.

"Very well," Sicarius said. "But you'd better hurry, because we're about to go to war."