Warhammer 40: My Fiancée Fulgrim

Thinking of Rogdorn's disgraceful behavior, Perturabo felt better and his mood improved. He was no longer surprised by Mortalian's actions.

The only remaining moment without conflict.

"Okay, bro."

"But now is not the time for you to hone your skills. Especially since we are all pretending to be ordinary businessmen, it's best to avoid this kind of behavior."

Although he didn't believe Mortalian's nonsense at all.

But at this point, you have to play dumb.

"I understand. I'll try to be patient. I mean, I'll try not to choose this time to train my patience."

Mortalian nodded, then with a speed that a Death Guard should never possess, like some kind of cockroach-like creature from Hallowed Terra, he scurried out of the ventilation duct.

The mysterious ghost incident in the food production workshop has been resolved, hasn't it?

Although he didn't want to admit that this shameful guy was his brother, the workshop was just too disgusting to look at.

However, given that the greatest threat to Lycaus currently comes from the main star's fleet, it seems that the work of modifying their production workshops should be put on hold after building defensive fortifications.

Why do they need him to do everything for them?

Is it possible that on this planet Lyukaius, there isn't even a single normal person who is even slightly intelligent?

Ugh.

But the thought that their prison cells and the junk food they ate (literally) allowed them to survive until now fills Peturabo with disbelief.

It's like someone living in the 30K era hearing about life in the 40K era for the first time.

How could someone survive in this condition?

Even those who conquered countless hive worlds during the Great Crusade

It was too dirty, too smelly, too chaotic. Peturabo wouldn't even want to watch these guys suffer. Anyway, nothing good could grow up in such a dark and gloomy environment.

He ordered his Iron Warriors to thoroughly purify these poor souls born in the bottom hive, and to clean them all up as the new hive city was built.

Master Pei was kind-hearted and couldn't bear to see the poor suffer.

This was also the first time that Peturabo was able to experience the lives of these ordinary people at such close range.

Previously, his views on the bottom nest or slaves were no different from those of other upper-class people.

They were all stupid, clumsy, and unimaginable non-human beings.

But after these days of contact, Peturabo's impression has indeed changed significantly.

Although these people weren't exactly smart, they were far more pleasing to the eye than the stupid and wicked guys on Olympia.

At least they can understand human speech and will do whatever they are told.

These two points alone make him more useful than 99% of the politicians and sages on Olympia.

The value is revealed in comparison.

It was this group of people who raised Corrax. His brother, Peturabo, didn't particularly like him, but he didn't hate him either.

Peturabo thought helplessly.

I'll help with the modifications when I have some free time later, as a way of repaying your kindness.

bah bah bah!

What repayment! What have these guys done for him that deserves a reward?

Alas, Peturabo, you just aren't hard-hearted enough!

He would feel grateful and want to repay the other person if they acted even slightly like a half-human.

Don't do that again!

Peturab held his tools, thinking sullenly.

"Phew, it's finally finished."

Peturabo looked at the neat row of giant fortress facilities in front of him and smiled with satisfaction.

He smiled like an honest and kind Horus.

But with the help of Fugrim and Kasgar, who put aside their past grievances, the construction of the fortress went very smoothly.

With the assistance of two top craftsmen, Peturabo had never felt things go so smoothly.

But it seemed a little strange that Fugrim and Kasgar would sometimes look at him and smirk.

They seemed to be plotting something, with ill intentions.

However, they never cut corners on their work, since they had accepted the other party's help and Peturabo couldn't say anything.

Mortalian and Corax weren't exactly of much help.

Mortalian's biological tactics were immediately rejected by Corax in horror as soon as they were proposed.

However, as Primarchs, they could still help them with some physical labor, which was enough for Peturabo.

Looking at the rows of quadruple laser cannons forged by the Primarchs, a heartfelt joy welled up within him.

But he didn't do it for the sake of these workers.

"This was not done for you."

Peturabo persisted.

"It's just that I want to practice a little during this time so as not to waste my building skills."

Looking at the many curious workers waiting expectantly behind him, ready to get started, Peturabo sighed helplessly: "Remember to use it properly."

"If you dare to break it, I'll be the first to crush your heads!"

"do you understand?"

"clear--!"

As the workers saluted with excitement, they stepped forward, curiously trying to touch these new gadgets according to the operating instructions in the Corax manual.

Wow, that's amazing! Really amazing!

The mechanic's ability to build and put into service these rows of surface-to-air weapons in just a few days is likely far beyond Corax's imagination.

too strong.

"Thank you, my friend. You've done so much for us, I can't think of a better way to repay you."

After Peturabo finished building the imposing fortress that stood outside the factory, Corax looked at the rows of laser cannons in front of him and stepped forward to express his gratitude.

Corax's original plan was actually somewhat reckless.

They planned to detonate the last remaining large nuclear bomb on Lycaus by dropping it directly onto the ground via the space elevator before the Kiava people noticed, causing even greater chaos.

Although nuclear weapons would cause irreversible environmental damage to the Earth's surface and kill many more innocent people, Corax had no other choice at this moment.

Taking advantage of this opportunity, Corax could use his assassination skills to silence the nobles of Kiava, preventing them from mentioning attacking Lycaeus again.

But deep down, Corax didn't like using fear to achieve his goals.

He could sense that if one day he truly relied on instilling fear in others, rather than the salvation that his name, Corax, implied.

Abuse of this power will turn him into a monster.

Fortunately, Peturab's fortifications prevented him from going down an extreme path.

"No need for formalities. What new intelligence did you gather on Kiava?"

"How long are these guys going to take to send out their troops? Why haven't I heard a single word about their fleet after I've been here for so long?"

If he painstakingly builds a fortress only to find no one comes to attack it, that would be too much like the fist of the empire.

Peturabo could not tolerate such an insult.

"There is about one more day."

"One more day?"

"Are the Kivars somehow affected by time slowing down, or what? Why do they need so much time to prepare a fleet?"

"No. Actually, the preparation time for the fleet was not long—but it seems that the officials were still arguing and bickering about how large a fleet to send for Lucius's uprising and how much budget to approve."

"So much so that they just finished discussing everything and are preparing to officially send troops tomorrow."

"This is classic. So much precious time wasted on such a stupid question."

Those self-proclaimed politicians are always like this, hindering and disgusting each other over trivial matters.

Peturabo thought impatiently.

This seems to have given him some PTSD from Olympia.

"By the way, Corax."

"Will you be unhappy because I disturbed your private time—I mean, will you feel uncomfortable about my behavior being too outrageous?"

Although Mortalian had specifically emphasized before we came not to mess around and steal the New Primarch's kill.

But once construction began, Peturabo seemed unable to stop building.

When he came to his senses, he had already built an entire surface-to-air fortress.

“Huh?” Corax looked extremely surprised, as if he had never thought of this before. “I am already very grateful for your help, my friend.”

"I am just a rescuer for the workers, not their leader. I am satisfied as long as I can save more people."

"They are all good people and should not live as slaves to others for the rest of their lives."

"Hmph, whether it's good or bad, only my own judgment can tell."

Peturabo snorted and walked away into the distance.

"I'm leaving now. If you don't understand something, ask Fugrim and Kasgar. They will help you figure out how to use these laser cannons."

As he walked, he was still thinking about the construction.

Perfect, we have an extra day.

Should we build something else?

Just build a few more, it'll be fine.

wrong!

Peturabo's left hand grasped his right.

Peturabo, stop!

How can you act like a lapdog, expecting to pour your heart and soul into building for someone without complaint just because they praised you a couple of times?

You deserve far better treatment than this. You don't need to always silently sacrifice and dedicate yourself to others; it's not worth it.

But his hands wouldn't obey him.

after one day.

The Kiava space fleet officially set off for Lycaius.

Although it was nothing compared to the Empire's expeditionary fleet, it was not even a merchant ship accompanying the expeditionary force. However, since the Kiava was not an intergalactic empire, their fleet was sufficient to maintain the orbits of their planets and surrounding satellites.

In a battle of wits, as long as it can be started, that's fine.

Not to mention that the planet where these rebellious workers lived didn't even have an atmosphere.

Even the rebels were a bunch of brainless slave workers!

Using anti-aircraft guns to shoot down primitive people is a rare mission that doesn't happen every day.

Especially given that the fleet has not had the opportunity to be deployed for a long time, this mission is of great importance.

Officials, eager to place their own people in positions of power and gain military merit, had long been fiercely vying for control of the suppression operation.

They stalled and argued for a long time, but in the end, they managed to cram in almost everything they could.

At the command of the fleet commander, more than a dozen ships marched in a grand procession toward the rebel satellite.

Soon, the barren planet came into view through the fleet's portholes.

Lükes.

Looking at the scene before them, even the fleet commander revealed a cruel smile.