44 Interlude: Knight and Knight-King (Part 2)

"You have violated the laws of the Imperium," Luther said.

He chose this sentence as their first words after their long-awaited reunion, and as an opening line, it was truly awful.

"Which one?" Lion El-Jonson asked, seemingly unconcerned.

"Every single one," Luther said.

He tore off his cloak and hung it on the wall to the side. Then he took down two belts and placed them neatly on the table beside him. He never looked directly at the Lion El'Jonson, not even once; all his gazes crossed over it deliberately.

Lion Aljonson observed him and then fell silent.

Luther didn't break the hard-won peace by speaking; he simply pulled a lever slowly. His wall flipped up, and a wall covered with all sorts of weapons and equipment replaced the previously unremarkable dark gray metal.

He pulled up a chair and sat down, beginning to examine his prosthetic limb himself using a complete set of instruments. Lion Aljonson remained silent, instead going to the wall to examine Luther's equipment.

He frowned, looking very carefully, but did not reach out to touch it.

Luther glanced up at his retreating figure, then finally spoke, "You can take them down and have a look."

"If this means you consent."

Lion turned his head, glanced back at him, and finally reached out to take the power short sword that was placed in the center. The engraving of Perturabo did not escape his eyes; he touched and rubbed it with his fingers for a moment to confirm its authenticity.

"Have you ever been to Olympia?"

"Yes," Luther said without looking up, the artificial muscle fibers in his metal forearm pulsating in strange ways.

"When?"

"Confidential."

Even for me?

"You don't belong to this organization, Lion El'Jonson," Luther said. "Therefore, yes, this is classified information to you."

He clenched each finger, then released them one by one, feeling the movement of his arm. After confirming that there was nothing wrong with his arm, he reached for the two short submachine guns on his belt, placed them on the table beside him, and began to maintain and care for them.

Lion Al-Jonson approached him from behind, sword in hand, watching him skillfully disassemble the two firearms for maintenance and upkeep. His expression remained unchanged, though his eyes seemed somewhat fixed.

"So, you consider yourself no longer to belong to the Dark Angels?" After a long while, he finally asked.

"I have been expelled from the Legion by you, Lion El'Jonson," Luther replied. "And it was a public Judgment. I am still Caliban, but no longer a knight."

"Hypocritical," Lion said coldly. "You're still a knight at heart, I can see that, otherwise why would you talk about those things with that agent?"

Luther put down his tools, paused for a few seconds, and finally chose to engage in direct dialogue. He turned around, looked up at Lion Aljonson, and shook his head at him.

"You've sent the Legion to track me down throughout the Milky Way?"

"Occasionally."

"Why?"

"Because the outcome of that Judgment was problematic." Lion frowned. "I cannot stand by and watch a mistake become part of our history; it will tarnish your name. That must never happen again. Once is enough to strip someone of their honor."

"Do you think I care about this kind of thing?" Luther asked, tilting his head back. A detached smile was spreading across his face, which looked far older than before.

He's old, Lion Aljonson realized suddenly as he looked at him. And he saw in those new, unfamiliar scars a Luther was completely different from the one he had seen before.

Realizing this, he instinctively clenched his fists, the power shortsword from the Lord of Iron creaking in his hands.

"But I care," Lion said through gritted teeth. "I must uphold justice."

"You're getting angry again," Luther said, seemingly unsurprised for some reason.

"I don't."

"You have it, and you're suppressing it—that's hard-won progress." Luther looked him in the eye and uttered each word carefully. "But that's not enough, Lion El'Jonson. As long as you're still chasing me, you can't truly escape the past."

Lion Aljonsen looked at him calmly, without saying a word, his powered short sword gleaming in his hand.

"You are a Primarch, and countless things in your life are more important than me. You mobilized the Legion's manpower, ordering them to betray their duties and hunt me down throughout the Milky Way. Is this what a knight should do? You claim you must uphold justice, but you allowed a group of knights to break their oaths. Is that what you call justice?"

Luther shook his head, ending his sentence.

However, in the face of his attack, Lion Aljonson laughed. Although the laugh was not very gentle, it was enough to surprise Luther.

He hadn't expected such an outcome; he had thought the Lion El'Jonson would immediately fly into a rage and refute him in detail, possibly leading to a fierce confrontation.

His surprise did not escape Lion's notice. The First Army Commander turned around and hung the short sword back on the wall. A few seconds later, his calm voice echoed in the room.

"We've all changed, Luther. I don't know you as I do now, just as you don't know me. You tried to provoke me with your words, and you succeeded, but anger is no longer an enemy I need to worry about. Besides, there's only one force in the Legion that truly carried out my orders to track you down."

Luther frowned immediately.

He had been away from the treacherous political landscape of the First Legion for many years, and only after leaving did he realize that his former thirst for power was actually destroying his pride as a knight.

He has grown disgusted with politics and similar dirty games, but that doesn't mean his experience has vanished.

Based on just one sentence from Lion El-Jonson, he immediately realized something.

"What's the situation with the Caliban now?" he asked.

"As one of Malcador's best agents, haven't you used your authority to investigate it all these years?"

"No."

Even just once?

"Not even once," Luther repeated. "I have only two powers: to learn secrets and to kill for them. I won't do anything else. Besides, Malcador has never called me his best agent."

"Then you must put in the effort." The First Army Commander turned around and told Luther seriously. His words surprised the latter once again.

"Besides, you've missed a lot. The current Caliban."

He paused for a moment, and from that face that combined wildness and nobility, Luther could see a long-suppressed sense of pent-up frustration.

"It's not what it used to be," Lion El-Jonson said. "Some kind of irreconcilable conflict has erupted, and I realized it too late. The situation in Caliban is undergoing dramatic changes."

"I'm more concerned about why someone within the legion would bypass your orders and act independently."

Lion Aljonson shook his head dismissively. "We'll talk about this later."

He appeared calm, but Luther saw a strong murderous intent in his eyes.

"So, what are you trying to say?" Luther asked.

"What follows is all classified," Lion replied. "Even to you, you don't belong to my legion. Therefore, yes, these things are classified to you as well."

"."

Luther smiled silently; something was beginning to change between them. After a few seconds, he spoke again, "I can't abandon my duties and go to Caliban just because of some words you've said, Lion."

I thought you would continue to call me the Lion El'Jonson.

"There's no need for that now—but, to get back to the point. I can't just abandon what I need to do and go back to Caliban to help you with those things. There are too many things involved, too many rules and regulations. Besides, how do you plan to legitimize my return to the Legion?"

"That's not something you need to worry about," Lion Aljonsen replied calmly, as if he had already prepared for it.

Which one?

"Every single one," Lion said, raising his hand to pull a parchment scroll from inside his dark green cloak and handing it to Luther.

The old knight reached out and took the document. The first thing he saw was the emblem of Malcador, followed by the emblem of their organization. These two things made him frown. He spent several minutes carefully reading the document over and over again, and finally came to a conclusion.

"It was Malcador who helped you find me."

"Yes," Lion Aljonson nodded. "I made contact with one of his spies—or rather, the latter approached me and relayed Malcador's instructions, as well as the possible locations of you and your partner."

Luther silently put away the document and tucked it into the lining of his breastplate. They fell into a silent understanding again, both knowing that whoever spoke first would be at a disadvantage, so neither chose to break the silence.

It was a suffocating silence, but it meant nothing to the two people present.

They had experienced something far more suffocating many years ago.

"Listen, Luther." After a long silence, Lion Aljonson chose to put himself on the defensive.

He looked sincerely into the latter's eyes, and a sense of past memories washed over him in those bright, emerald-green eyes.

Luther drifted into a daze, and suddenly he smelled the scent of the forest—damp earth, cold air, and fog high enough to reach his knees. Then, he heard Lion Alderson's voice.

"I need your help," he said.

Update complete.