40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 140 2. The Emperor and His Sons (2)

The first precious dish to hit the banquet hall of Macragge's Glory was a dangerous deep-sea fish.

It was ugly in appearance and huge in size, even taking up one-third of the long table, which also surprised the three primarchs sitting on the same side. Even Robert Guilliman, the most knowledgeable of the three, had never seen it before.

However, one thing he had to admit was that the fish was cooked very deliciously by the chef from the Emperor's Dream.

It has a fragrant aroma, and the tender fish meat is looming under the thick and chewy skin. The deep red soup spreads under it, as if it were its own blood, but it is not fishy. Instead, it exudes the intoxicating aroma of wine.

Its head was wide open, and its terrifying mouth was filled with terrifyingly fine sharp teeth.

"An extinct fish originating from a cold moon in the solar system." The Emperor of Mankind spoke slowly.

His voice was commanding, but never distant. Now, he looked very different from the person in Conrad Coates' impression. Although he had the same face, his temperament seemed very gentle.

He wore no armor, and a golden laurel wreath surrounded him among his long black hair. It added no divinity to him, in fact, it only looked divine because it was being worn by the Emperor.

He was wearing a white robe, with golden wrist guards on both hands. Complex and exquisite carvings were carved on the golden surface by craftsmen with silver strokes.

"You say it is extinct?" Guilliman asked.

"Yes, the genetic reproduction project has turned it into a delicacy that only a few people can enjoy, but I hope to reduce the cost within five years and develop an effective breeding method to promote it. To the whole empire.”

The emperor nodded with a calm and gentle expression: "It is very nutritious and delicious. It is a rare food for those children who are growing."

He glanced at Conrad Coates, who was aware of his gaze but didn't know how to respond.

"And this is just the first dish?" Angron finally said, the gladiator's expression was a little complicated. “There are only four of us, do we really need that many dishes?”

"In terms of filling your stomach, you don't need as many as twenty-six dishes."

The Emperor gave him a slight nod.

"But the problem is that sometimes, your identity can distort your wishes. If I specifically order that today's banquet only requires ten dishes, my chefs will experience an uneasy disaster, and they will think that I don't They are no longer needed. Of course, this will also raise some political questions. For example, why do I eat so little when I meet you? "

Guilliman's eyes widened, feeling at a loss at what his father had said. The same was true for Konrad Curze, but Angron remained calm.

Nucerians can even crack a joke.

"If I were to think about it, I might think that you just want to live a simple life for a while." He said. "But are you also bothered by these things?"

"Why shouldn't I?" The emperor smiled. “They put in the work, the time and the effort to cook the food for me, and of course I care about how they feel.”

Angron nodded, stretched out his knife and fork, and took away a large piece of skin and fish meat.

"Fair enough," he said.

He put the fish meat into his mouth and began to chew it carefully. The emperor looked at him with a smile and said nothing, but he stretched out his arm and took away a piece of fish with his fork.

The banquet officially began.

More dishes were served one after another, dotted among the white cloth-covered tables, with the bright glimmer of burning gold candlesticks, precious ingredients sourced from the Emperor's Dream's warehouses. Under the illumination of candlelight, their processed appearance was revealed. The wine swayed in the silver cup, vibrating with the words or movements of the primarchs.

Conrad Coates actually didn't eat much. He tasted almost every dish, but ate a little more on a kind of soft bread. He loved it dipped in Glocks soup, which was delicious.

Angron ate the most. The gladiator did not want to be polite or even frank. Rather than having a conversation during the table, he preferred to do this after the meal. He did not hide his love for these foods.

Robert Guilliman also joined under his leadership, but the Lord of Macragge did not eat much dinner. He ate many desserts, from layer cake dipped in honey to puff pastry decorated with apples and peaches. Peppa Pig, he almost refuses anyone who comes.

As for their father.

The Emperor ate nothing but the piece of fish.

"Don't you have a bad appetite today?" Robert Guilliman finally asked the question after a long period of suppression.

"You could say the same, Robert," the Emperor replied gently, keeping his eyes on Guilliman as he spoke.

"But, rather than eating, I want to record your performance. Angron likes meat, but he will not refuse vegetables as a decoration. You like desserts, even better than a good Glocks Meat. And Conrad Conrad, why don't you eat more?"

His words brought the attention of the dinner table to Conrad Coates.

The pale-faced primarch pursed his lips and had to answer the question: "I don't like to eat too much."

"But you are still growing." The Emperor said thoughtfully. He raised his hands, and the four fingers of his left hand rested on the index finger of his right hand, and the palms of his hands fit tightly together. "You should eat more."

".I don't really like stuffing my stomach," said Conrad Coates. "Yes, I know I can turn them into nutrients quickly and the feeling of fullness will disappear quickly, but I'd rather eat less."

"Old habit?" the Emperor demanded, his behavior making Robert Guilliman increasingly confused.

Angron was not surprised, he just stuffed another whole piece of steak with a calm face.

"Pretty much." Coze replied. "The food reserve is limited. If you eat more at this meal, you will eat less at the next meal. I would rather distribute hunger equally to every day of my life than watch another person walk alone in hunger. Time to feast.”

"Another one?" Robert Guilliman realized that his brother was not using a metaphor. "Is it Instructor Khalil?"

"Yes." Conrad Coates looked at him quietly, with neither sadness nor joy on his face. "Every three days he will pick up a batch of nutritional ointments that are about to expire. Most of them belong to me. He only eats one meal a day."

Guilliman couldn't help but frown. Angron picked up his silver cup and drank the wine in one gulp. His throat rolled, and his eyes gave Koz comfort instead of his words. The Lord of the Eighth Legion smiled slightly, indicating that he didn't care.

And the emperor.

The Emperor made no sign.

"You suffered," he said quietly. "But that was already the best condition your adoptive father could give you. But things are different now, Conrad. Your body will need these nutrients, so you might as well eat more."

"No."

"Okay." The emperor nodded with regret. "I guess I'm still not very good at talking to you."

Robert Guilliman looked at his father and then at his brother, his face filled with a look of uncertainty as to whether he was awake or not.

Konrad Coates smiled, clearly and gently: "And you don't have to."

"do what?"

"Buy me with these words," Curze said quietly. "Compared to lies wrapped in honey, I still prefer the truth you revealed last time."

Guilliman took a deep breath: "Brother, what are you talking about?"

"Tell me something you don't know, Robert. But that doesn't mean I'm going to start an argument, and he's not angry, is it?"

The Emperor answered with a smile. He was indeed not angry, and there was even a little encouragement in that smile.

"But—" Guilliman muttered in confusion and frustration. "--Father?"

"What's the matter, Robert?"

"you"

"Um?"

Guilliman closed his mouth speechlessly and shook his head, indicating that he had nothing to say.

He didn't quite understand why his brothers would interact with their father in this way - the most bizarre thing about this whole thing was that their father actually showed a clear enjoyment in it.

Angron laughed lowly but said nothing. He leaned back quietly in his chair, also showing a vague curiosity about the next development.

And what about the two hosts of this conversation?

They were just silent.

Konrad Curze remained calm and silent, and the Emperor remained silent with a smile, neither of them spoke.

Maybe he had nothing to say, or maybe he had revealed enough information in his eyes - in short, after a minute, the human emperor stood up with a smile.

The door to the banquet hall was immediately pushed open, and the face of Constantine Waldo appeared in the middle of the door. The emperor nodded slightly to him, and then looked at his sons.

"This is the most comfortable party I have had in recent years, my sons." He said with gentle eyes. "As for now, I'm leaving for a while. Please come and meet me on my boat at nine o'clock tomorrow morning."

After finishing his words, he turned and left, leaving the Primarchs to continue in the banquet hall. As Constantine Valdor closed the door, Guilliman's confusion was finally released.

He let out a long sigh and glanced at Conrad Coates with a complex expression: "What you just said almost made me jump out of my chair, Conrad."

"He won't be angry," Curze replied softly. "He even expected me to answer that."

Angron chuckled again and began to continue eating. He never wastes any food.

As for what the emperor is going to do?

No one knows the answer.

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