"There are about two hundred to three hundred Dark Angels in the camp, and there are three of us here."

"Um……"

"Slight disadvantage."

"But it's not a big problem."

——————

Sometimes life is like eating hazelnut chocolate with rotten teeth.

Sweetness is guaranteed.

Pain is predictable.

But there is a real possibility that the damn hazelnut is stuck in your tooth cavity and you can't put your fingers in or suck it out with your tongue, but you still want to lick it from time to time.

And it's not low.

Hector didn't know what hazelnut chocolate was, after all, pure cocoa butter had completely disappeared as early as the Age of Strife.

Although in private, this somewhat serious rising star of the Second Legion actually likes to taste candies, but they are limited to some ordinary types. He will never let anyone know this. After all, he personally feels that this is not something worth boasting about.

My hobbies are a bit childish and naive.

But this did not prevent him from feeling the constant sorrow and anxiety as if he had eaten an extremely bitter hard candy. This was the stimulation caused by the collision of the cruelty of reality and the beauty of dreams.

Pain, although for the Astartes, this kind of mental pain is almost insignificant, it still makes people feel annoying, and there is still the possibility of messing up things.

After all, the Death Angels loyal to the Emperor are by no means a perfect species. They can hardly even be called perfect warriors. Although they have experienced extremely strict moral brainwashing and thinking strengthening in theory, this does not prevent some

The development of irritable, reckless, arrogant or insidious emotions in the Astartes' bones. This kind of dark thoughts can even overshadow their thinking in milliseconds, allowing some dirty tragedies to appear in the world.

Hector knew this. He knew it very early. When he first became a [Tusker], Sir Kairon and other mentors almost reminded him of this. He also went to Legion

In the psychological room, I talked to those ancient warriors and learned how to better control my impulses.

The oldest warriors didn't care what kind of ideals Hector had or how huge his ambitions were. After all, they had seen stranger fangs before. These respectable figures only cared about one thing: that

It is whether he can suppress the weakness in his soul and become a reliable commander in the midst of war.

Hector passed the test, and three months later, he became the fastest-promoted recruit in the legion. In the eleventh year after he officially joined the legion, he became the youngest squad leader in the history of the legion.

——————

Becoming an Astartes is never the end, only death is, and when some greater destiny and cause come, death does not mean the end of obligations.

The Second Corps has always thought so.

——————

"Are you sure, Salieri?"

Hector suppressed a new feeling of annoyance, which was not difficult for him.

Three soldiers of the Second Legion were currently staying on a deserted slope. From here, they could barely see the dusty camp of the Dark Angels, but even for the superhuman vision of the Astartes,

, it’s really a bit too far here.

However, Hector did not dare to get closer before making a plan: this was the minimum respect for the Dark Angel's keen perception, and he did not want to face the First Legion's interrogation without any plan.

Although the camp in front of him was guarded by the same young Calibans who had just followed their genetic father into the void, they were still newcomers who were not good at grasping their own power, rather than those who were good enough to

Terran veterans are feared.

But then again, if it was really the Dark Angels company, which was mainly composed of Terran veterans, that was assigned to be stationed in this world, Lord Chiron would never allow them to act like this.

Yes... nonsense.

Hector closed his eyes. He wanted to sigh. After becoming a leader, he found that he always wanted to sigh because the light of reason shrouded his heart and kept shining on the sad reality around him.

At this time, Hector could clearly hear the battle between reason and sensibility deep in his heart: Any Astartes' rationality would tell him how weak the possibility of a Primarch lurking here is.

, not to mention that these most noble demigods have no reason to lurk in a small camp. Judging from the personnel alone, this camp is nothing more than a group of recruited mortals, two to three hundred Dark Angels, and maybe some others.

The auxiliary personnel of the legion, with the tall and burly body of the original gene, he must be more eye-catching here than standing out among the chickens, and there is no possibility of lurking.

Unless he turns into a stone.

But even so, even though he, Salieri and even Ajax knew how ridiculous this was, they still came, full of complaints, suspicions, speculations and that undetectable fluke.

After all, who can say for sure about everything in this world?

What's more, that is their Primarch...

The word seemed to have a magical power, and the mere thought of it was enough to make Hector take some excessive risks: even though his rationality screamed at him, screaming that such behavior was irrational.

but……

That's the Primarch.

The mere appearance of this word easily destroyed the wall of reason.

Hector now understands some things, some things that he used to regard as anecdotes or absurdities: why the Iron Warriors can accept eleven kills, why the True Word holders will change from faithbreakers to believers almost instantly, and why those zombies

The ghost... would become the Blood Angels we are today.

Some things are indeed full of charm.

"It's too far away for me to be completely sure, Hector, but I do feel it."

Salieri's voice reminded him that he was staying with Ajax, and the two looked at him together.

Hector pondered for a moment.

"Is it possible that the Dark Angel will let us in directly?"

"If you are visiting for important reasons, it's okay for other legions, but the first legion..."

"They're like a bunch of guard dogs."

"It's possible that they will let you go, but there's also a chance that they won't. It's more likely that they'll even deny us access."

"It's impossible to break in by force. This group of Calibans won't hold back for unknown people like us."

"Caliban... Hector, don't you know Zahariel?"

"It can only be said that we are acquaintances. We spent some time together on the Imperial Fist's [Eternal Crusade], but I am not familiar with his character."

"So...what should we do?"

This question made Hector rub the corners of his eyebrows.

Damn it, why is it Dark Angel?

This rising star of the Second Legion, who was far taller than the average Astartes and could even be called the biggest among the Astartes, thought about it for a moment. The first thought that came to his mind was that

Strange.

or……

Sneak in?

——————

Hector made a deliberate detour.

After confirming that Salieri and Ajax's chorus was enough to distract some of the Dark Angel's attention, he did not take action immediately. Instead, he patiently bypassed most of the camp and arrived at the site where construction was still ongoing.

In the area, the mortals who were recruited were working listlessly there. They were operating some huge sand pulling trucks and mixing machines. From time to time, a thick fog of dust and sand would appear, obscuring the sight and senses.

There are very few guards here. There are only a few Dark Angels staying at the edge of the construction site, chatting from time to time. They are not very enthusiastic about this job. After all, in theory, this camp is for those who will stay here later.

It is used by mortals, and the Dark Angel only supervises them to make this place a little more decent.

Hector's eyes were wandering and his mind was running. He soon discovered the pile of sand piled up on the other side of the construction site. His thoughts and calculations were running rapidly in his mind. If he could control those mortal construction workers

The rhythm and time, maybe...

He didn't hesitate.

Once again, the sluggish mortals drove those vehicles and dumped another pile of sand and dust on the planned area of ​​the construction site. As always, they raised layers of sand and dust, soaring into the sky, in the desert.

In the strong wind, the dust was like a high and erratic wall, swaying wantonly under the cold sunlight, blurring everyone's sight.

No one even noticed, a flash of shining silver light seemed to flash by.

It’s done.

Hector leaned against the sand. These huge solid objects were enough to obscure the view on the other side. Next, he only needed to...

"Click."

It seemed like something was pressing against his back armor.

Then, he heard the scraping sound in the sand, the sound of explosive bombs being loaded, and a cold laugh.

"What makes you choose such a rude way of visiting, my friend?"

——————

No, no.

This won't work.

Hector shook his head and threw this idea out of his mind.

He put his index finger on his chin and started thinking again. One plan after another began to emerge in the ocean of thoughts like a revolving lantern, but it was picked up and dropped to the ground one by one like a revolving lantern.

The first legion...

In the end, Hector could only sigh.

He never likes situations where the progress of things is not in his own hands. He is keen on laying out detailed plans and thinking about countermeasures under every possibility.

This may be a special case among the Second Legion, but Hector does make it a habit, relies on it, and is even proud of it.

But this time, or at present, he really can only leave the fate of the matter in the hands of the First Legion, even if it involves his Primarch, even if the opponent is just a few cubs from Caliban.
To be continued...