Serious person, who is learning magic in Marvel?

A person can choose many ways to die, but only loyalty is eternal.

Stedrick kept repeating this sentence. From his face, you can probably tell that this man has no culture.

There is no hidden truth in this matter - Stedrick is indeed a rough guy, and has been so since before he was signed into this army, and in the army, you naturally don't have much time to learn.

of.

Therefore, this sentence was not written by him himself.

These were the last words spoken by an Emperor's Death Angel three days ago as he held his hand before dying. Stedrick didn't know his last name, but he knew that he belonged to the Origin War.

A member of the regiment. Together with several soldiers, he dragged the angel back from the monster's body. At that time, he was almost dead.

Stedrick asked his name, but he didn't respond and just kept repeating this sentence.

And now, Stedrick also read this sentence and asked himself another question.

How long can we resist?

He began to clean the gun with a dirty cloth. This thing had been carried on the back of his waist during the day's battle. Stedrick expected it to fall anywhere, but it didn't. It was like

He thought he would die, but he didn't.

He's not dead - does that count? Stedrick has no answer. He's tired, but if he can still live, let's live.

"Stand up, soldier."

A voice sounded above his head, with unconcealed fatigue. Stedrick looked up, and when he caught a glimpse of the wide-brimmed hat of the political commissar, he had already stood up and announced his name.

and military rank.

"Stedrick, corporal, attached to the 667th Cadian Light Infantry Regiment, political commissar."

"It's good to see you're still motivated, Corporal Stedrick, but I'm not here to give you some orders. So you can relax a little."

The political commissar's face was haggard, his left hand was empty, and his clothes and even his face were full of dirty marks, but whether it was the brim of his hat or his breastplate, the Imperial Sky Eagle mark was still as clean as new. It was obviously after the war.

After passing by, Stedrick stared at the eagle on his hat for a while before realizing that he should relax.

He relaxed.

The political commissar sighed, and with his remaining right hand he took out a pack of issued cigarettes from his waist pocket and handed it over. The cigarette case was crumpled: "Do you want to smoke, Corporal?"

"Thank you for your kindness."

Stedrick was not polite. He hadn't smoked for a long time. He didn't miss it much during the war, but once he was free, it was a different matter. He reached for the cigarette case and pulled out a cigarette.

. Carefully used his tongue to lubricate his dry lips, but he had not drank water for too long, so this action had little effect.

But no matter what, after that, he put the cigarette in his mouth.

A pack of matches was handed over by the political commissar, and his right hand trembled slightly. This is normal. All soldiers fighting on the front line will do this. Bombing and continuous pulling of the trigger will cause this phenomenon.

With the soft sound and the unique smell of the match, Stedrick scratched the side of his boots, lit the cigarette, and took a deep breath.

He exhaled the smoke into the open space beside him, then quickly inhaled it, and then exhaled it. After repeating the cycle three times, all he exhaled was pure air.

The political commissar showed a smile: "You are an experienced smoker, Corporal. I have seen many veterans smoking like this, especially when the rations are about to come out. They are very economical, but they will suddenly drink up all the cigarettes one night.

Drink, smoke out all the cigarettes.”

"You've been through a lot of troops?"

Stedrick developed a slight liking for this political commissar. The political commissar of the 667th Regiment had long since died. This political commissar should be from another army. He was much more easy-going than the previous one. However, more than half of the 667th Regiment had actually been killed or wounded.

"No, not much."

The political commissar answered briefly and waved his hand, obviously not wanting to answer the question. He was silent for a while and then turned to another topic: "Okay, Corporal, I will ask straight to the point. In the name of the Emperor, I

I hope you can answer me honestly."

He blinked.

Stedrick smiled knowingly, knowing what trick he was trying to play: "I'll tell you everything, Commissar."

"What happened to that sudden attack three days ago? Why did all the witnesses keep silent about it?"

"I don't know what the attack was, commissar."

"Very well, then comes the second question - what did the angel say to you?"

"A person can choose many ways to die, but only loyalty is eternal."

The political commissar smiled slightly, and a little brightness bloomed on his haggard face, but it quickly disappeared.

He took a deep breath and sat down, not caring that the blood-soaked mud would stain his clothes. Stedrick squatted down with him. His leg was injured, so he couldn't sit down completely.

Instead, it became a better choice.

The two of them looked at the back of the trench at the same time. For a moment, no one spoke. A few shadowy figures were walking around in the trench, probably carrying ammunition.

Finally, it was Stedrick who spoke.

"The Angels suffered heavy casualties," he whispered. "So did we, Commissar."

The political commissar quietly smoked a cigarette he had just lit, without answering his words. Above them, the darkness of Pereira pressed heavily, and not a single shining star could be seen in the dull black curtain.

Yes, not even half a pill.

After a while, he answered.

"It was inevitable, but we have proven our loyalty. We have resisted here for hundreds of days and nights since the loss of Pereira. The Emperor may not see us, but his will remains with us.

Here, Corporal."

The political commissar's words were firm and persistent. Stedrick could tell that the political commissar truly believed in this matter. But his mind was drawn to another matter.

Hundreds of days and nights...has it been that long?

Stedrick's thoughts quickly drifted away, and he began to be immersed in memories.

At the beginning of the war, no one imagined that this time it would last so long. Today, all the cities on Pereira have been destroyed by the war. Those who survived were lucky enough to move to underground shelters to survive.

Three months ago, the angels from the Origin Chapter arrived here. They received a distress signal from Pereira and arrived here. Their arrival gave everyone a shot in the arm. But as their support arrived,

, the intensity of the war also began to increase dramatically.

Before the arrival of the Angels, the Astra Militarum had to deal with the inexplicable influx of traitors, cultists, and mutants.

And now...

Maybe it's some kind of attraction.

Stedrick thought: Angels will only appear on the most dangerous battlefields, and the most dangerous battlefields should be filled with monsters.

He twitched the corner of his mouth, and the cigarette butt burned, burning his fingers. The corporal took one last puff, then stubbed it out and put it in his coat pocket, intending to take out the cigarette butt and smell it when he was craving for it later.

Stedrick stood up and looked at the horizon in the distance. The pitch black area did not make him see it clearly, but there was nothing weird surging in the night, just as he had guessed.

The same.

Traitors also need to rest.

This suspicion made him feel angry: The Emperor should really unleash his wrath and chop you all to death! You shameful things still need rest as much as we do?!

He no longer wanted to talk.

"I'm going to change shifts, political commissar." The corporal lowered his head and said. "The two-day rotation is over - I'm going to the rear to sleep for six hours."

"Go, Corporal, get some rest and recharge your batteries. The Emperor still needs you."

Of course he needs me.

Stedrick turned around with a smile, and that ferocious face rarely looked a little childish. The threat of death still existed. Their morale was low, they were short of food, clothing, and even no supplies, but Stedrick felt

Unprecedented peace.

There are many ways a person can die.

But only loyalty lasts forever.

----------------------------------------

"May our brother Perodimas rest in peace."

Erroled uttered these words seriously, and then stopped mentioning anything about him. He was the Chapter Master of the Origin Chapter, and Second Captain Bodan stood beside him, his expression serious to the point of being cold.

A table consisting of a bulletproof armor plate and two brackets was placed in the center of the room. For them, such conditions were simple, but no one in the room cared about it. The man sitting opposite him took off his clothes

He lowered his hat slightly and paid a brief tribute to the dead Perodimas.

And when he put on his hat, he once again became the commander of the 667th Cadian Light Infantry Regiment, Horace Berne.

"May the Emperor rest his soul," he said shortly. "You and your brothers still have a chance—"

"-No, don't mention this matter again, Captain Horace." Ellorede stopped him. "Our ship is indeed still parked in orbit, but if we cannot win, we will never

leave."

Horace pursed his lips.

"There is no need for you to waste your and your brother's lives on defending people like us and Pereira." He made one last attempt. "Pereira is just an agricultural world, it is neither precious nor special.

.There are countless similar worlds within the empire.”

"First of all, I have to correct you, Captain Horace."

Ellorede said slowly: "All pure humans are the Emperor's subjects. As the Emperor's subjects, we have the obligation to protect you. Secondly, as you said, Pereira is just

It’s an agricultural world, yes, but it’s the agricultural world of empire.”

"So we're not going to leave, and that's also within my responsibilities. And I will never renege on my responsibilities."

Horace let out a long sigh: "You are very stubborn."

"I was born this way."

"I really can't understand why you are still unwilling to evacuate..."

"But you can respect my wishes."

"Of course I respect you, my lord, but - alas."

Horace didn't say anything else, stood up, made an eagle salute, and left the room that was used as a temporary conference room. It was located underground. As an agricultural world, Pereira had a large area of ​​underground mines.

It wasn't even abandoned. In the past, Ellorede would have carefully considered this matter. But now, he doesn't care so much.

"A stubborn mortal," Bodin said. "But he is also very heroic - have you seen him in battle?"

"No."

"He single-handedly killed two mutants who broke through the line with a chain sword." The second company commander, who had been extremely serious before, showed a smile. "It's really surprising - the Cadian people are indeed as rumored.

They are so persevering and have extraordinary will. It’s a pity that they are still mortals.”

This is not a disdain, but a true statement: there is an insurmountable boundary between Astartes and mortals. No matter how powerful a mortal is, he is still a mortal, and the most incompetent Astartes is still an Astartes.

If the latter waves his hand, the former may die in pieces. The former may need to sacrifice thousands of lives to kill an Astartes with the blessing of good luck.

Ellorede shook his head: "I don't want to argue with you about 'still being a mortal' again. The difference in status between Astartes and mortals has been debated by us as a philosophical topic thousands of times.

Bodin.”

"Just looking for something to do, Chapter Commander." The Second Company Commander blinked, showing a rare sense of humor. "But if you don't want to, I will choose to keep my mouth shut."

"That's good, Bodin, it couldn't be better - notify the mothership and let them prepare for the next round of orbital bombardment."

"Are you sure? This may be the last time. Our macro-cannon ammunition reserve is already insufficient. If we continue the bombing, we may have to use light spears for orbital bombing."

Bodan's expression is a little worried, which is normal. After all, the light spear is only suitable for dealing with small groups of elite enemies. And most of the time the enemies they have to face are a group of cult rebels - which means that the light spear may not be able to

method to cause widespread damage.

The killing range of the light spear is only a hundred meters square. Although the subsequent secondary shock wave can damage the surrounding area of ​​nearly one square kilometer, it is really a drop in the bucket compared with the bombing range of the macro artillery, which can easily reach ten square kilometers.

Ellorede's expression looked like he had other plans.

"In the past three months, we have repelled hundreds of their attacks. As a stable agricultural world, why are there so many determined traitors? Their numbers and fighting will are obviously unreasonable."

"At first they were just cultists, Chaos Ogryns, mutants and fanatical traitors, but now they have turned into chaotic beasts and damn demon hosts. What will happen next? Are demons really being summoned?"

He shook his head and said seriously: "You must make plans as early as possible, the sooner the better. Besides, weapons and ammunition are created to be used."

Bodan stopped persuading and just nodded: "I understand, Chapter Commander."