Serious person, who is learning magic in Marvel?

"He gave me the courage to slay the enemies of mankind."

An Astra Militarum soldier prayed while checking the Cantralas in his hand, which is the standard weapon of the Cadian Legion. For lightly armored targets or enemies of normal human size, the Cantralas

It is an extremely reliable weapon. However, against large or armored targets, the laser gun is useless.

It lacks the stopping effect of traditional kinetic weapons and cannot force the enemy to stop. And the firepower of the laser gun itself is not enough to stop the Chaos Astartes or Orks. Fortunately, they do not need to head-on

Fight against the Chaos Warbands.

This is just a matter of routine - the Imperial War Office says that a soldier should check his weapon three times a day.

He was actually standing in front of a cannon hole. There was a black cylinder in front of him. It was not big and flashed with fluorescence. The soldier had received a full set of training in the past two hours and was able to control the cannon normally.

Although as an Army member, he had no chance to play with naval guns before, but now no one cares about this difference.

There are only three hundred and seventy-five of them, and the highest-ranking captain is still in the infirmary receiving automatic treatment on the spacecraft. Besides, who doesn't like large-caliber fire weapons?

There was a sound overhead, and a mechanical voice reminded them: "The enemy is expected to enter the shooting range in three minutes, gunners, please be ready."

The soldier turned his head and looked at each other with his companions on his left and right. The same look flashed in their identical purple pupils.

"The enemy will enter the range in two minutes, please start warming up."

According to what was said during the training two days ago, the soldier meticulously placed his hand on the black cylinder. His vision blurred for a while and then entered the dark universe. This was a wonderful feeling. The soldier could

I heard a voice urging me in my ear.

It was shouting: "Launch! Launch! Tear them apart! Beat them to slag!"

He knew that this was the roar of the machine spirit.

"It's not time yet," the soldier said in his mind. "Please wait a moment, Machine Soul."

The machine spirit made a dissatisfied noise, but didn't say much. The soldier breathed a sigh of relief and heard another voice saying: "Prepare to launch - ignite and fire!"

The soldier's hand suddenly clenched the cylinder, and veins popped out on the back of his hand. The machine spirit roared crazily in his ears, and in his sight, the screen was constantly shaking. Three hundred and seventy-five blue beams melted.

As one body, it turned into an arc of destruction in the universe, and with just one blow, a ship very far away from them was reduced to dust.

If he hadn't temporarily merged with the machine soul, the soldier wouldn't even be able to see the ship clearly. He felt sincerely happy, and the machine soul seemed to be satisfied, and let out a slight sigh in his ear - and then a few seconds passed.

At one minute, it started screaming again: "More! It's not enough! They all have to die!"

"Please forgive me, holy machine spirit, there are no more enemies near us." The soldier carefully comforted it, and received another burst of dissatisfied noise. Then, he let go of his hand and exited this state, his forehead was covered with sweat.

.

Looking around, most of the others were the same. They seemed to have gone through a rigorous training at this time, and few of them were so tired that they didn't want to talk anymore.

The soldier grinned, and another beep came from above his head: "Well done, soldier. You successfully destroyed seventeen enemy ships today, and He will be proud of you."

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"This kind of firepower even makes me a little uneasy."

Sitting in the main control room, watching the Storm-class frigate being easily beaten to ashes without even noticing them, Angron said something like a joke.

"What nonsense are you talking about? Of course, the bigger the firepower, the better. Stronger is good, more is beautiful."

"Well, actually, I'm just a little unhappy because I couldn't tear their bodies apart with my own hands."

"You are quite honest." The mage laughed.

"We only have 376 Astra Militarum, but we have 1,500 composite magic cannons. One of them is still lying in the infirmary because he gave himself that damn potion. Damn it, I We can’t even let him get better directly, otherwise he will definitely immediately respond to the soldiers and spread the word that I am a living saint or something like that.”

"Isn't this a good thing? If you ask me, you are much higher than the living saint."

Angron was surprisingly easy-going and could even make such profane jokes. When he was not in combat mode, his sense of humor was quite to his liking.

"Yes, it is a good thing. But for mortals, it is not."

Angron frowned: "Their belief in Him is as firm as the Astartes. In fact, these soldiers are all good. Let me tell you, their willpower is not much worse than that of the Astartes. "

"No, I'm not questioning whether they are devout in their belief in the emperor or whether their willpower is firm." He Shenyan said lightly. "It's just because they are mortals, it's that simple."

Angron fell silent.

He knew that the mage was not looking down on mortals. He was just explaining a simple truth - they were mortals.

During the war, the Astartes had extraordinary strength, elaborate power armor, and all kinds of powerful weapons. But what did the mortals have?

Carapace and laser guns? Those things are of little use to the enemies of the Empire, but these brave soldiers have still stepped onto the front line one after another for tens of thousands of years. This is why Angron respects the mortal auxiliaries so much. One reason. He knew very well that without the sacrifices of mortals, the Astartes were nothing.

But, then again, there are some things that mortals cannot know.

It's cruel, but that's how it is. It's not that I don't trust them, or that I think they don't deserve to know the truth. It's just out of the perspective of protection... Thinking of this, Angron suddenly understood why the Emperor wanted to know the truth in the first place. The existence of the subspace has been concealed from all mankind.

This complicated mood made him sigh: "Did you give that feather to them?"

"Of course." He Shenyan blinked at him. "Seriously, Angron. It's really your loss that you weren't there at that time. The third company commander's expression looked like he was about to cry."

"Get over your damn bad taste."

Angron clicked his tongue in disgust: "Why do people become less upright the longer they live?"

"You seem to have some misunderstandings about me, and you seem to be hinting at other people. However, I am only thirty-five years old now."

He Shenyan held up his face and touched the stubble on his chin. He said thoughtfully: "Let's not talk about this anymore. We will probably have to maintain this fighting intensity every day for the next month."

"Good thing or bad thing?"

"The more machine souls you kill, the happier you will be, and the firepower of the cannon will be stronger. But overall, this is actually not a good thing."

He Shenyan said something ambiguous and frowned.

He knocked on the table in front of him, and the runes engraved on the magic circle in the main control room immediately bounced up, forming a light blue light curtain in the air.

This scene inevitably made Angron look twice - it was the first time he had seen this special technology, well, just think of it as technology.

"look."

The mage pointed at the light curtain, which showed the route they had traveled so far. It could be regarded as a simple map, but due to the fact that they were near the Great Rift, the map had long lost its meaning.

Even the laws of physics can be rewritten, and the stability of the real universe has long been a joke. To put it bluntly, this place is now a bus that anyone can get in and get out of.

The mage continued: "Although the map is no longer useful, the route we sailed is still somewhat useful. Maintaining this intensity of fighting every day means that we are always surrounded by the enemy. It won't be long before the Chaos traitors will realize that we are

existence. Then we will have to fight a really tough battle. After all, they are not idiots."

"Then let's fight." Angron looked at a route shown on the light screen, with light reflecting in his eyes: "A traitor who fell into chaos, a vulnerable waste."

"I appreciate your contempt for them. Strategically, it is appropriate to despise the enemy, but tactically, we must pay attention to the enemy."

He Shenyan knocked on the table: "Eighteen Astartes, one Primarch, 376 Astra Militarum, and a weak mage like me. If they assemble a fleet to launch a surprise attack, they will still have to fight in the end.

Engage in gang fighting."

"Why? Isn't the firepower of the composite magic cannon not enough... I understand what you mean." Angron suddenly stopped speaking and showed a somewhat dangerous smile.

He Shenyan also smiled slowly.

"Compared to an opponent who has no weaknesses at all and will be smashed into pieces without even meeting him, why don't we leave them some illusions? Every battle is a miserable victory. So, in order to please their master, they

More people will definitely be sent. If it doesn’t work this time, do it next time, and if it doesn’t work next time, do it again.”

"Failure after defeat, defeat after defeat. We won miserably every time. They can only say that we are lucky, but they will not think that we are invincible. On the contrary, they will think that we are too lucky -

—So more people will be brought.”

He extinguished the light screen, patted the table and stood up: "...Don't you think it's interesting to play with them little by little like this?"

"Let me tell you in advance, I hate intrigues." Angron said slowly. "But you are right, it is indeed very interesting."

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Ezekiel's room was very simple, even too simple. There was only one chair, one table, and not even a bed. He was leaning on the chair and carefully looking at the white feathers in his hands.

There is no doubt that this is His gift.

After looking at it for a while, he put the feather into the sandwich of his power armor. He didn't feel at ease placing such a precious item anywhere. It would be better to carry it with him. But it would not be a long-term move if it continued like this.

He must return to the battle group before his death and treasure these treasures.

However, Ezekiel actually knew that their hope of returning was slim.

He stood up and walked out of his room. The wall split naturally, revealing an opening for him to pass through smoothly. The corridor outside was made of silver and white, which was similar to the imperial ship he had taken before.

There are two styles. Ezekiel can't say which one he prefers.

The floor of the corridor was made of a metal material that he could not identify, and a light with a light blue light appeared on the ceiling every few hundred meters. This light seemed to have the effect of keeping people sane.

The cold Milky Way was reflected out of the porthole window. The material of the window was not glass - the glass was not so transparent. It even gave Ezekiel the illusion that he could touch the vacuum as long as he stretched out his hand. But this was not the case. He tested it.

Even with all my strength, I couldn't break this unknown solid material.

Astartes sighed a little in his heart. He walked along the road to the assigned armor repair point. There was a thoughtful sign on the door. He stood by the door. A burst of white light swept over him, and the door opened by itself. He left.

Entering, a mechanical voice came from above: "Please wait a moment, Captain Ezekiel."

He stood there, the walls around him were black, and there was a fine buzzing sound. Not long after, a light blue magic circle appeared under his feet, and just looking at it made him feel like this

The Astartes felt dizzy. Ezekiel looked away and took off his helmet.

He let go of his hand, and the helmet floated in the air on its own, rotating around. The eyepiece looked at him, and he looked at the eyepiece. The voice said: "Please be ready, Captain Ezekiel, your armor is about to be repaired and upgraded.

Estimated time is thirty-five minutes – please remain calm during this process.”

"I'm ready." Ezekiel said in a deep voice.

"Zi——"

The magic circle made an uncomfortable sound, wrapping him up from bottom to top, including the helmet. Ezekiel closed his eyes, and there was an uncomfortable itching from the black carapace connected to his power armor, but it was very

It soon disappeared. A sense of stability gradually relaxed his mind.

Sparks were constantly emerging from the joints of the armor's shell. This ancient and sacred power armor had to go through four veterans before it was passed to him. As a small war group with little background, any piece of power armor is a family heirloom.

.At this time, this timeless armor is receiving a new life.

The dents and scratches on the shell have disappeared without a trace, and the artificial muscle fibers inside have become thicker and even engraved with a total of sixty-four runes. The painting and color have not changed, and the various symbols on it have

The tech-like crystals have not been modified in any way - they are simply merged with the runes from the mages.

Ezekiel opened his eyes, and a voice came from above: "The repairs have been completed, and thirty-three damages have been repaired. Your power armor transmission system and servo have been strengthened. If you feel uncomfortable, please go to the training ground."

It takes a little getting used to.”

He tried to pump his fist, three times faster than before.

The corners of Ezekiel's eyes twitched and he said: "Please arrange a separate training venue for me..."

It is foreseeable that he will not even think about sleeping tonight. The increase in speed and strength does not mean that he can simply adapt in a short time. His fighting skills must also keep up, which requires a lot of practice.

But, it's still a good thing - not for their enemies.