Lorgar: Fine, Fine, Everyone Looks Down on Me!

"Then we should go out!"

His voice boomed like thunder, "I should go and help my legion!"

Those traitors' henchmen are not worthy to set foot in the star field I govern!

He turned to leave.

But Belial's voice rang out behind him:

"Great Father..."

The voice trembled, hesitated, and carried an unspeakable pain:

"There are no more legions now."

Lion's steps abruptly stopped.

He slowly turned around, looked down at his son, and for the first time, genuine shock appeared in his grey-green eyes:

"... What do you mean there are no more legions?"

His voice was deep, yet carried the weight of a suppressed storm:

"Did the Dark Angels disband? Or were they destroyed?"

A fire of rage burned in his eyes:

"Damn Luther!"

He wished he could rush up to Luther right now, chop off his head, and make him atone for his betrayal ten thousand years ago!

Belial quickly shook his head:

"No! It's not because of that traitor Luther!"

He took a deep breath and spoke with difficulty:

"It is the Imperium that has now promulgated the Astartes Codex."

There are no longer any legions, only Chapter.

Each Chapter is only allowed a maximum of two thousand Astartes.

"Currently, most Dark Angels sub-corpses have around 1,500 Astartes."

Lion's brow furrowed deeply.

"Five hundred?"

He repeated the number, as if to confirm that he hadn't misheard.

"Five thousand five hundred?!"

His voice suddenly rose, carrying an unbelievable sense of absurdity:

"How many troops are there?! I've never fought such a pathetic battle in my entire life!"

He began pacing down the corridor, each step causing the ground to tremble.

"I've always fought battles with at least 100,000 troops! I've never fought a battle with only 1,500 troops!"

He stopped and turned to Belial, his eyes blazing with fury.

"Furthermore, what's the point of breaking that massive legion down into countless smaller Chapter?!"

How can we cope with a large-scale invasion by dispersing our forces like this?! How can we execute strategic missions that require concentrated forces?!

His voice grew louder and louder, almost a roar:

"Who issued such a foolish order?! Only a pure insect could issue such an order!"

What kind of fool could issue such an order! Has the Imperium already been taken over by such idiots?!

"And that damned Astartes Codex, it should be treated like toilet paper!"

No! That's not even good enough to be used as toilet paper!

Belial's body trembled slightly.

He knew that the name he was about to utter might ignite his father's anger even more fiercely.

But he had to tell the truth.

He lowered his head, his voice barely audible:

"It's from ten thousand years ago... the Thirteenth Primarch, Robert Guilliman."

He paused.

He didn't dare add the word "sir" after his name.

Seeing the extent of his father's anger, he feared that if he added "sir," his father would chop him up as well.

A deathly silence fell over the corridor.

The fifty-odd Deathwing members knelt on the ground, not daring to breathe.

They knew the Thirteenth Primarch's place in their father's heart.

They had heard some of the secrets circulating within the Legion, the ancient legends about the relationships between the Primarch.

The father looked down on the Thirteenth Primarch.

This is "common knowledge" passed down through generations within the Dark Angels.

My father always said that the Thirteenth Primarch was not like Primarch, and was the least formidable of all the Primarch —except for Lorgar.

Lorgar:...

Okay, okay, everyone's trying to suppress me!

One day I'll show you what a true master of words looks like!

In the pseudo-canonical texts, Lao Tzu is portrayed as someone who punches Slaanesh and kicks Lion!

Now, the father has just regained consciousness, only to learn that his most despised brother has issued the "foolish" order to dismantle the legion...

It's over.

Belial thought to himself.

My father is probably going to rush straight to Terra and start hacking people to death.

However--

In an instant, the frenzy emanating from the Primarch body dissipated like the receding tide.

Lion stood still, his anger subsiding at a visible speed.

His brows relaxed, his eyes became peaceful, and even carried a hint of thoughtful gentleness.

"Oh, Robert."

"It's alright now, I was just too excited."

He said it in a calm tone, as if he were discussing today's weather:

"He must have had his reasons for doing this."

Belial:???

"I was a little excited just now."

Lion continued, his face as serene as a saint in a church, "We should examine ourselves."

"If I hadn't been so agitated ten thousand years ago, Caliban wouldn't be what he is today."

Belial:!!!???

He stared wide-eyed at his father in disbelief.

You were just about to kill him!

Belial was internally ranting and raving.

Is our Gene-Father really that good-tempered? I had no idea!

The secret circulating within the Mingming Legion is that the Gene-Father is someone who would rather die than speak!

He recalled those ancient legends.

Those were the infighting and power struggles among the Primarch before the Horus Heresy.

Those stories about how Lion scorned Guilliman's "armchair theorizing" and how he mocked Guilliman for "being a local tyrant hiding in the Five Hundred Worlds."

Moreover, according to the secrets passed down within the Legion, the Gene-Father looks down on the Thirteenth Primarch!

He consistently despised Guilliman's so-called "Son of War" nature.

In the Legion's secrets, Lion once said that any Primarch was more qualified to be a War Soldier than Guilliman —except for Lorgar!

Lorgar: That's enough! Again and again! If you provoke me again, I'll worship you like a god!

But now...

Belial looked at Lion's peaceful face, and then at the almost "benevolent" light in his eyes, and his mind went blank for a moment.

666, changing faces without deducting points!

He sighed inwardly.

He truly deserves to be called the Gene-Father!

It perfectly inherited the excellent traditional civilization of Old Terra, and was able to adapt to changing circumstances and be flexible in its approach!

I heard this was a traditional skill back in the 2K era?

Ancient people in the 2K era were very skilled at face-changing, especially those in the ancient Sichuan and Chongqing regions of China.

This is called --

An ancient word came to Belial's mind:

I was just joking with you.

He almost burst out laughing.

But he held it in tightly.

Because he knew that if he laughed now, his father might show him what "the wrath of a lion" meant.

Lion, of course, had no idea of the turmoil of thoughts churning within Belial's mind.

He simply stood there, a peaceful smile on his face, but his mind was racing:

Are you kidding me!

If you had said it was an order issued by Robert earlier, I wouldn't have mocked you!