Serious person, who is learning magic in Marvel?

The Chapter Master of the Crimson Fists, Pedro Kantor, is a well-informed Astartes, which is not unrelated to his long service. This legendary Chapter Master has already served in his Chapter

nearly four hundred years.

But... no matter what, no matter how many reasons he gave himself, he couldn't calm down.

"Sir..." Pedro Cantor said with a bitter look on his face. "Bringing orcs on board is a bit... too..."

His hesitant and hesitant expression did not escape Steve's eyes. The blond original shook his head in amusement: "Don't look at me with that expression, Pedro. Besides, you

There's something wrong with the descriptor. It's not an orc, but 'part of a dead orc'."

Is there any difference?

If it were anyone else, Pedro Cantor dared to assure the Emperor, he would have drawn his sword and started angrily asking what the other person's intentions were - only dead orcs are good orcs, take the orcs on board? You won't

Is he a hidden traitor?

However, this is the man with the flaming sword in his hand. Even if he was recognized by a large group of orcs as their 'boss' not long ago, he could not change this.

Pedro Cantor had made up his mind to forget about it.

So he could only stand there and smile bitterly: "But, sir, what do you want to do by bringing part of its body on board? Research on orcs was stopped a thousand years ago...

.They are creatures that completely violate existing scientific knowledge.”

Pedro Cantor made a gesture: "It is both a living thing and a plant...can carry out photosynthesis, and has a weird psychic stance——"

"—I know all this, Pedro. Believe me, I have my uses."

Steve smiled: "I have a friend who is very good at making the impossible possible... Well, maybe, he can turn some new orcs into our power?"

The chapter leader only thought he was joking, but Steve's expression had become serious: "Let's not mention this for now...call teleportation first, the surface cleaning will be carried out in five minutes."

Pedro Cantor faithfully carried out his order. The soldiers gathered together, and Pablo's body was solemnly carried by the brothers in the battle group. Apart from them, the corpses of orcs were everywhere.

Yes, Steve didn't let them go.

On the contrary, he even called for a long-range strike in order to better kill these things... The beams falling from the sky completely destroyed the life of the orcs. They died, and they still thought Steve was theirs.

Boss.

Thinking of this, a rather subtle expression appeared on his face.

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He Shenyan didn't know what kind of high hopes Steve, who was far away on the other side of the empire, had on him, or let's put it another way.

He still doesn't know what kind of trouble Steve has found for him.

The mage is resting - using the stars to reshape the body of a primarch and adjust it to completely match his soul. If you want to say this, this process is tantamount to rebirthing him.

In other words, he has just created a demigod. Considering the strength of this star body and the backhand hidden in it, the strength of the 'demigod' may need to be adjusted upward.

At least this Horus will be able to tear apart several great demons of Khorne with his own hands without any trouble after he reaches adulthood.

As for the question of whether he will betray again...

Ah.

He Shenyan smiled.

He sat in the pocket dimension and tapped on his armchair, and the crisp sound was as clear and decompressing as ever. He liked doing this very much. Human beings always like to do complicated little things in completely unnecessary places to distract attention.

For example, shaking your legs, biting your nails, or tapping the armrest of an armchair all the time.

Just when he thought he could get a moment of rest and quiet, the Emperor very thoughtfully sent him a message mentally: "Horus is awake."

...It's not my business?

The mage rolled his eyes and replied unceremoniously: "So?"

"Don't you think you should come out and meet him?"

"Why should I see him? I have nothing to do with him."

"He feels the need to express his gratitude to you. After all, it was you who rescued him——"

"——Come on, I don't want to go out."

He Shenyan, who felt at ease after doing something important, conjured up a glass bottle of Coca-Cola that was just right cold, and took a big gulp before starting to read the new message from the emperor.

"Well, I won't force you. But you might have to go see your ship, the Revenge."

"What happened to the Revenge?"

The Emperor said rather tactfully: "You should know how attractive a spaceship the size of a planet and built with completely unseen technology is to the people of the Mechanicum, right?"

"If they are willing to learn, let them learn." He Shenyan rolled his eyes again, quite confident. "They can't learn anything anyway. The pattern formation is my unique patent."

Unexpectedly, the emperor said something slowly that made his blood pressure almost rise.

"They're not learning... They're trying to retrofit the Revenge."

Within two seconds of these words falling on He Shenyan's ears, he jumped out of the pocket dimension and asked with a serious face: "Who gave them permission? It is impossible for the center of the circle to allow such behavior."

It was only then that the Emperor showed a strange smile that showed his conspiracy had succeeded. That smile made Guilliman, who was standing beside him, say in his mind that there is something wrong with my eyes. As a result, he received another psychic slap on the back of his head.

Seeing that smile, the corners of the mage's eyes gradually twitched.

The emperor was not in a hurry to explain, but said slowly: "A soldier never tires of deceit... Come and see your doctor, Horus."

A young man walked out from behind the emperor, his face obviously still showing that he was not used to this new body. His mind was also incomplete, but he still did not forget to be polite. He bowed first before speaking.

"Thank you—huh?"

He looked around in confusion, and finally looked back at his father: "Father, he...?"

The emperor, who had a calm expression but could hardly hold back his laughter, coughed lightly: "He's fine, he's just not used to such an occasion, um... Horus."

He seemed to have something to say, but when the words came to his lips, nothing came out. In the end, he just touched his forehead gently. Little Horus, with confused memory and a broken mind, looked at him in confusion.

Instinctively, he felt that the man in front of him was filled with guilt.

Guilt, for me? Why?

A picture passed before his eyes. There were many people following him in the picture. They seemed to be fighting bravely against something...

Guilliman looked at all this, turned his head, smacked his tongue slightly - and then was hit on the back of the head again by a psionic palm.