Chapter 832

"How can we get the Regent to agree to this meeting?"

One captain asked the question. He had a straight handlebar mustache, a pair of green eyes, and a long face, which together made him look rather shrewd.

"We've already exhausted every method."

Another captain answered. His face was calm, with a broad forehead and a hooked nose—the kind of superior navy men least wanted to see, for no other reason than that he looked far too stern.

If someone like that became a captain, he would most likely clamp down hard on discipline.

In the bigger picture, that was a good thing. Unfortunately, for navy men, it was not. Clamping down hard on discipline meant things like sneaking food from logistics or sleeping in would no longer happen, and the navy did not like that.

Granted, the navy were not the pampered young masters of rumor, but they still preferred a relatively comfortable life—otherwise, how were they supposed to mock those starch-gnawing army men?

One had to know, this was one of the navy's great pleasures.

He said, "I suppose we can only hope His Highness the Regent changes his mind of his own accord. How could we possibly alter the thoughts of a demigod?"

"So we just sit here and wait? Emperor above, I've had enough sitting! If I don't kill some xenos, Orks, or Chaos Traitors for a single day, my whole body starts itching! It already took me thirty-two days to reach sacred Terra Space Station. I can't wait any longer!"

A short-tempered old man said loudly, even slapping the conference table. His voice was extremely loud.

His hair was white, and several crisscrossing scars marked his face. Even so, he remained powerfully built and intimidating. Worth noting was the cane leaning beside his chair, reddish