"Let's talk about 'The Lion' instead."
"Have you seen him?"
"I saw him once. He felt like a terrifying, man-eating beast god."
Sergeant Latobis of the 23rd Krunos Infantry Regiment was single-handedly guarding a nearly abandoned trench. He felt hunger, drowsiness, and a nightmarish cold. Sergeant Latobis clutched his waterproof coat, pulling desperately. He felt the temperature of his skin dropping rapidly, which was not a good sign. He had seen soldiers who froze to death; their faces were as grotesque as legendary savages.
The sergeant's ten fingers were already frostbitten and red, and he couldn't even steadily hold the automatic rifle beside him. He sniffled, sucking the large, sticky snot back into his nasal cavity, making a disgusting sound of mucus friction and rolling. But he didn't care about such small matters. Latobis's body was shivering uncontrollably in the biting cold.
His gaze wandered over the slowly freezing puddles in the trench, finally returning to the crude instrument in front of him. A single glance told him it was a purely industrial product, but that didn't stop Latobis from serving it as if it were a queen.
After all, besides the automatic rifle beside him, this automatic heater, which he had begged for, was the most valuable thing on Sergeant Latobis's entire person. It was even more valuable than his wretched life.
The sergeant looked at this small object with enthusiasm, as if looking at a hot woman—no, even the hottest woman couldn't compare to it. His stiff fingers reached into his jacket. Under the waterproof leather coat, he wore another coat, and beneath that was the rough military uniform.
Inside the uniform was another layer, the warmest and best wool sweater, the only thing he brought from his hometown. It hadn't been washed for several months, emitting a disgusting odor of mixed wool and sweat.
But that was nothing. The trench reeked everywhere: whether it was the rotting corpses outside, the supplies soaked in sewage, bodies that hadn't been washed in too long, or even the starved, rat-like gray furball in the corner, and the urine secretly left by the watchman last night.
They all stank. Odor was the theme of the trench. The only thing to be thankful for was that the current temperature was too cold, so cold that even the stench and flying insects were greatly dissipated. This was a kind of finding joy in suffering.
But Sergeant Latobis didn't care about these things. He cared more about what was in his hand. His stiff fingers carefully pulled out a box of round iron cans from his inner pocket. The outside of the iron can was haphazardly sprayed with green paint,
and vaguely visible on it were words like [Standard Ration - Type IV]. He hooked the pull tab and opened it. The iron can was filled with a flesh-colored mixture, with faint hints of dark brown solids resembling pebbles. To be honest, such a combination looked a bit disgusting.
They said it was canned meat, mixed with some plant stems beneficial to the human body and artificial substances, but he was neither sure nor caring. Latobis handled everything cautiously.
He first completely pulled off the lid and set it aside, then carefully placed his can into the automatic heater. It was like a young father holding his son for the first time; emotions of excitement, joy, and even a little fear involuntarily overflowed.
Accompanied by a faint creaking sound, the self-heating unit began to work. Soon, fragrance and heat continuously spread. Latobis greedily enjoyed this rare warmth. He couldn't help but sniff, then suddenly gagged: the pungent stench emitted by the low-quality paint when heated even overpowered the aroma of the food.
And just as he was rubbing his head and nose, another dirty figure darted into the trench, rushing towards Latobis. The sergeant subconsciously grabbed his rifle with one hand, and with the other, ignoring the scalding temperature, he tucked the self-heating unit and his lunch into his embrace. Then, he clearly saw who the newcomer was and couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief.
"Lieutenant Tigre, it's you."
The newcomer had a dark face. When he smiled, he revealed a mouth full of yellow, rotting teeth. This guy's footsteps were swift; he almost slid all the way to Sergeant Latobis's side and then sat down. Latobis instinctively straightened his back,
making himself appear as respectful as possible: unlike himself, a sergeant who got his rank by chance, Tigre was a legitimate lieutenant who rose through military merits, and was even once the bodyguard of a battalion commander. Then, Tigre pressed down on his shoulder, forcefully pushing him down.
"Alright, alright, cut the formalities. Here, something good for you, kid." Tigre pulled out two dirty, greasy packages from his embrace, threw one to Latobis, then wiped his hands, looked at the grime between his fingers, and rubbed them vigorously.
Only then did he carefully take out a letter from the deepest part of his inner pocket. Then, without minding Latobis, he read it with a look of ecstasy. Latobis put down his lunch, opened the package, and saw only a dark, crumpled mass inside, as if it had been kneaded many times. It should be edible. After a brief thought, Sergeant Latobis tore off a piece and put it in his mouth.
In that instant, it was as if a mighty hammer swung, instantly shattering the bitter shell in his mouth, allowing his tongue and taste buds to rediscover the concept of [flavor], to feel the breath of life.
His teeth involuntarily chewed, crushing everything, squeezing out every bit of the oily liquid. The sergeant involuntarily swallowed, letting this delicious morsel slide down his throat. He stood there stunned, then eagerly devoured the rest, not caring even if he swallowed some paper.
This was meat! Not the messy starch distributed by those bastards in the military supply department, nor the strange creatures that roamed the tunnels, which even starving ghosts wouldn't eat. This was real meat! He devoured it greedily, feeling a warm joy radiating from his pupils.
Latobis had known Tigre for almost two years. At that time, their regiment was not in this damned desert, but in a strange place called a forge world, where huge factories and furnaces belched smoke everywhere,
and grotesque figures roamed about. They fought a losing battle there, a terribly fierce one. The entire regiment was shattered, everyone fleeing for their lives. Discarded firearms and armored vehicles piled up into hills. And just as Latobis was fleeing with everyone else, he met Tigre.
Tigre was injured at the time, and was helping an officer whose thigh had been shot. He later learned that this was Tigre's battalion commander. At that moment, Latobis hesitated for a moment. His compassion temporarily got the better of him, and he ran over, helping Tigre and the officer successfully escape.
Later, he heard that battle had ultimately turned into a collapse that almost swept the entire world, and was only contained when the legendary Death Angels intervened. It was said that the generals and commanders who led the battle were all executed afterward. And when their 23rd Krunos Regiment was tallied later, only about one-fifteenth of their men had successfully escaped.
However, for Latobis, this wasn't a bad thing. After the officer had somewhat recovered, he immediately promoted Latobis from private to sergeant, and said he would keep him by his side. Such good fortune made Latobis fantasize for several days, until he heard that the officer, along with many wounded, boarded a ship heading to the rear, and that ship was blown to pieces by an alien Raid before it even had a chance to lift off.
A few days later, Tigre, wearing the rank of lieutenant, arrived at the 23rd Krunos Regiment's trench, accompanied by a large group of new recruits and stragglers from other regiments. The regiment quickly returned to full strength—at least it seemed that way—and then they were kicked to this godforsaken desert world, forgotten in the cold wind for a full two years.
"How does it taste? This is cured meat personally made by my mother. It's much better than the shitty military rations those bastards hand out."
"My mother said in her letter that she packed me five packs, but those bastards in logistics told me there were only two left, and the rest were lost. Damn them! Those sons of bitches!" Tigre spat, then continued to look at the letter. The letter wasn't long, but he read it again and again, unconsciously smiling.
Latobis wolfed down the meat, then licked his oily fingers with relish. After licking them clean, he picked up his lunch. Although it didn't look great and had gone cold, he still ate it greedily. The sound of eating echoed in the trench until Tigre caressed the letter, carefully folded it, and tucked it into his inner pocket. The lieutenant wanted to smoke a cigarette, but he searched all his pockets and found none.
Just then, Latobis's voice came from beside him. "Lieutenant, there's something I've always wanted to ask."
"Speak."
"Why did you join the army?" Tigre, hearing this, simply stroked his chin. He didn't look for a cigarette, but instead laughed.
"Do you believe me if I say it's for the greater good of humanity, for the Empire, for the Emperor?"
"Uh... For what?"
"For the Emperor, for the Emperor. That's the biggest boss who pays us. You need to learn that phrase. The officers love to hear it most, and they love to shout it most. And those awesome auxillary forces, they shout that when they fight."
"Uh, auxiliary forces? Aren't we?"
"What the hell are you thinking?" Tigre smacked Latobis's head unceremoniously, laughing in exasperation. "Those armies from Terra and other big places are the auxiliary forces.
Don't you see their equipment and guns are ten times better than ours? Let me tell you, those guys from Terra are all stuck-up. Especially those... chroniclers. They don't even acknowledge guys like us as auxiliary forces. They only recognize those rich folks from Terra and other big places."
"Ah... I see... So Lieutenant, why did you come here? Was it really... for the Emperor?"
"Bullshit! For money." Tigre touched his uniform pocket, where his family letter, his most precious possession, was. "I was just living my life back home. I had an old mother above me and a brother below me. No wife, no kids. But my brother and I working together to support our old mother was no problem. Until one day, my brother's leg got caught in a machine at work."
"The factory manager was still decent enough. He paid to get my brother rescued, but my brother couldn't work anymore and had to stay home. I couldn't support two people alone. I was just having a headache about it when one day, the sky above us was suddenly covered by a large group of black shadows—you know, those spaceships."
"The next day at work, the radio started blaring about 'for the Empire, for the Emperor.' A few days later, people came from above, recruiting people to join the army in the factory. They really gave money! Those guys with guns stood there watching the money being handed to us.
I thought about it. I couldn't earn that much money even if I worked for the rest of my life. And my brother was a reliable guy. So I thought, why not join the army, get the money to let my brother take care of our old mother, and maybe the rest would be enough for him to get a wife and continue the family line. Anyway, it's just a worthless life; where you die doesn't matter."
"So, I came to join the army. If I count carefully, it's been almost ten years now." Tigre pulled out a small flask, took a swig, then threw it to Latobis, muttering inaudible words about the logistics department.
"What about you, kid, how did you get here?"
"I..." Latobis scratched his head, took a drink, and then slowly began to speak. "I had no father or mother since I was little. We didn't care about factory managers there; we cared about lords, knight lords.
My lord picked me up from the roadside. I was almost starving to death then. My lord was kind and took me back, fed me and clothed me. When I grew up, I became my lord's handyman, running errands."
"Then one day, my lord suddenly set out with several young masters and a large army. They were gone for several months and never sent back word. The remaining young masters started fighting over the family inheritance.
Suddenly, a large group of soldiers came and arrested all the young masters, saying that my lord had defied the Emperor, and that all of us were guilty and had to atone for ten lifetimes. Then they arrested me too. That's how I... came to join the army."
"They didn't give you money?"
"The officer who arrested me saw I had nothing, so he gave me a few coins, but as soon as I got on the ship... it was all gone." Tigre burst into laughter. He patted Latobis on the shoulder, then took the flask back and took several more large swigs. The two of them finished the flask like that, taking turns drinking. They looked up and could only see the hazy sky, emitting all sorts of indescribable foul odors.
"It's gotten really cold these past two days. You kid better be careful to stay warm. The medics say their infirmary is full. Many people have frostbite these days, and some have trench foot; they don't look like they'll live long."
"No supplies, no reinforcements. I passed by headquarters today and heard those motorcycle messengers say that our regiment's request for aid was denied again. They're only giving us a tiny bit of supplies and ammunition. Those bastards in the rear, they really want us to freeze and starve to death, don't they?"
"Understood... Lieutenant, when do you think we can leave this hellhole? There are no enemies here anyway. What's the point of us guarding this place?"
"How should I know? That's something for the bigwigs to think about. Maybe one day, that 'Lion' will see our location on the map and have us transferred. If we're transferred to a war zone then, don't come complaining to me, kid."
"The Lion...?" Latobis was concerned about another point. "Lieutenant, have you seen 'The Lion'? What's he like? I heard people say he's ten meters tall, sturdier than a tank, and can fly. If he dislikes someone, he just knocks their head off."
"Don't listen to those people spouting nonsense... 'The Lion,' huh? I actually did see him once. That was when my battalion commander wasn't dead yet. He once earned a merit, and went with a group of people to have an audience with 'The Lion.' I went too."
"Is he really ten meters tall?"
"Not that exaggerated, but five or six meters, I think so. I was quite far away at the time, so I couldn't see clearly, but he was indeed exceptionally tall and sturdy. At first glance, he really did look like a tank. I don't know if he can fly; I didn't see him with wings."
"If I had to describe him... he's probably particularly terrifying."
"Terrifying?"
"Yes, terrifying, very terrifying. I'm not afraid of you laughing at me. Even I and my battalion commander, when 'The Lion' emerged from the door and looked at us, we immediately knelt. I still can't forget that scene. That person, he was too terrifying. I didn't even dare to look at him directly. When he stood there... how should I put it, it was just the aura he had. It made you want to kneel, not dare to look directly at him, like an emperor."
"But isn't his father the emperor, the true emperor?"
"How should I know? Maybe that 'Emperor' has conquered so many worlds that he's already more of an emperor than an emperor. So it makes sense for his son to be an emperor, or like an emperor, doesn't it?"
"Anyway... that's how it is. That 'Lion' is like an emperor, and also like a real lion, or a beast. Like, you're walking in a forest or the wilderness, and you suddenly find a particularly large beast staring at you, and you don't know if it's going to eat you or what. Anyway, when 'The Lion' looks at you, I think that's all you can think."
"And the people around him, those called Death Angels, they're all the same. They don't say a word, they just stare at you. You'll feel your legs wobble and you won't be able to stand. I reckon that 'Lion''s relatives and friends are all like that too."
Sergeant Latobis nodded, but he quickly thought of another question. "Lieutenant... then you're saying such a person, his relatives and friends... He has relatives, but can he have friends?"
This question clearly stumped Tigre. He scratched his head, then his chin, and finally waved his hand and slapped his clothes, answering resignedly, "Who knows? Such a monster... maybe some monster wants to be his friend?"
"The galaxy is so vast, who can say for sure?"
Translator's Note: During this period, to shape Zang Sen, I continuously changed perspectives to subtly foreshadow him. I'm not sure if you can adapt to this. If not, you can say so. Anyway, for me, this writing style is quite challenging.
Luther's frustration, the Death Angel veterans' riddles and indignation, and the crude, live-for-the-moment mentality of the low-level soldiers—these are all completely different angles and perspectives. And I also have to connect them, driving the plot forward, which is indeed quite difficult.
Ran Danjuan is harder to write than I imagined. Now, even sending Morgan to the Lion King's side requires constant perspective shifts and plot interweaving, let alone what happens after contacting the Lion King. However, if this volume can be written well, and as long as there are no major plot holes, this book can be considered a success.
Oh, and Morgan's legion. I initially set the color scheme for the Second Legion as silver-white with gold accents (Grey Knights, I'm happy). The style is somewhat a fusion of Deathwatch and Dark Angels. It's also a multi-functional legion, primarily focused on exploration, tomb raiding, and finding secrets. The name? Haven't decided yet, tentatively [Fanged Angels].
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