"A commander, a king, should remain calm and rational, avoiding war whenever possible. But when war comes, a commander must give his all, with the annihilation of the enemy as his goal, and show no mercy. Mercy belongs to times of peace; war can possess only the nature of a beast. Only when triggers are no longer pulled and swords are returned to their sheaths can we return to the embrace of precious humanity."
"You're studying." Hammurabi caught sight of the opening inscription in the book, his tone rather pleased. To the other members of Latveria's administrative and military institutions, the Praetorian Guard's physique and armament carried an aura of authority that made people either straighten their backs or tremble in fear, depending on their stance. Yet regardless of their stance, many ordinary people considered the Praetorian Guard to be cold war machines. No Praetorian Guard wished to correct that misunderstanding; from certain perspectives, it was true. "It seems the Emperor gave you a talent for learning when He created you," Hammurabi said. "I possess some of that talent as well, but I'm more enthusiastic about building defenses and smearing cement on my battle robe, like a child building sandcastles by the sea."
Amon was amused by his colleague's words.
"That is something only He could know, brother. Still, I do not mind acquiring knowledge outside the database during my off-duty hours." He did not put away the book. The Explosive Rounds Gun magazine, short sword, book, paper, and pen lay together, carrying considerable symbolic meaning, for the Praetorian Guard themselves were perfect tools created to defend human civilization. A weapon in one hand and a book in the other—this was precisely the Emperor's original intent in creating the Praetorian Guard. "This passage from the Emperor originated from The Art