Eventually, these mortals were rescued and accepted the spiritual comfort of the new quartermaster.
This ability, which is exactly the same as the material provider, allows these cans to confirm that the person in front of them is indeed his clone.
The Ninth Army Corps went deep behind enemy lines and found it difficult to obtain information and communicate with the outside world.
Those squads that have not come into contact with other legions do not even know that under the guidance of the Astartes Master, the cans of other legions no longer exclude them.
The Emperor’s Radiance erased the memories of these mortals being attacked by the Astartes and watched them leave and return to the village.
Finally, surrounded by the cans, they returned to the battleship.
The cans stared at Him, with mixed emotions and they didn’t know what to say.
The cans brought out the heating equipment, filling the surroundings with warmth.
“Can you…can you take off your scarf?”
Unseth made this request with all the canned expectations.
Emperor Glory untied his scarf, his disheveled hair was slightly messy, and his dark blue eyes were raised, as if looking at the souls of these cans.
That familiar face was like a powerful hammer of maximum tonnage hitting their hearts.
They also confirmed that the other party should not be their material provider.
The reason is simple. Their material provider has said that He hates ornaments including necklaces and rings to be worn on Himself.
And on the glorious left earlobe of the emperor in front of him, there was a copper earring, which looked like a vampire fang.
Canned people don’t know they are smart but they are fooled by their cleverness.
Emperor Glory once used the same method to deceive a disciple named Doan. The other party asked him for a necklace as an anklet, and he wore it for twenty-six years.
The cans, who were as disappointed as they were protective, asked the new quartermaster to do nothing.
They just quietly took out the food from the food warehouse and started cooking.
A simple dinner was quickly delivered to Emperor Glory.
All the cans also had a portion of food placed in front of them, but none moved, waiting for Him to begin.
He looked at the two cutlery items on his plate.
This is what He taught these cans to repurpose.
He pushed aside the knife and fork—the plate was a little too big for Him.
Picking up the chopsticks, Emperor Glory began to eat.
Suddenly, all the cans seemed to be lit up somewhere in their memory, and they started to eat as if they were encouraged.
When their blood thirst is clearly aroused, they will find ordinary food extremely unpalatable and unable to eat it.
The fried noodles still taste the same – Emperor Guanghui commented.
He still used some condiments in the fried noodles, such as celery and scallions that he didn’t like to eat.
When the condiments piled up into a hill, Angseth deftly scooped the hill into his plate until a can protested.
Their provider was often a picky eater, so the can started taking shifts eating foods that the provider picked out that they didn’t like.
To be honest, the empire has no plans to grow spices and condiments.
Most spices come from newly discovered planets.
These things are valuable to canners.
After finishing a whole plate of fried noodles, Emperor Guanghui put the plate aside, and then.
“Hiccup~”
“Water! Water! Water!”
A pile of cans began to worry, fearing that the porcelain would break again.
This night without fighting was obviously very relaxing, but the cans felt tired and fulfilled.
Their worry about the porcelain even made them temporarily forget their blood thirst.
“How many clones did the empire have…”
Angseth still couldn’t help asking the question, but he couldn’t bear to finish it.
“I don’t know, but it seems like every legion has some.”
The Emperor’s Glory answered calmly. He dug into his small bag for a long time and finally took out a pack of spicy chips and handed it to Angseth.
Angseth took the snack blankly and cast an impossible look at him.
“We all share the same memories, Captain Unseth.”
The Emperor’s Glory broke through this canned defense at every turn.
Everything in front of you must be done.
He had to approach these cans in a strange yet familiar persona, in order to relieve some of their pure dependence.
Because of his self-defeating discovery, in the future timeline, there are cans of the Ninth Legion who do not recognize Sanguinius but only recognize him.
How do you say this? The Sixth Evil God is the Primarch of the Ninth Legion? The emperor must not smile crookedly?
“So…I am not…that…”
Angseth began to feel guilty for his indifference during their initial meeting.
The other cans also blamed themselves like children who had done something wrong.
With the same blood and memory, even if they can’t completely treat each other as the original quartermasters, they can no longer feel how far apart they are.
It is a tradition for the material provider to give out snacks before telling stories, and He is already familiar with what kind of snacks or fruits everyone likes to eat.
“Vann, your cookies.”
Emperor’s Glory called out the name of a can.
The group of cans began to follow their memories and recall what they had done when they received the snacks.
Vann came to the quartermaster, took a box of cookies, then knelt down on one knee and lowered his head.
Emperor Glory stood up, stretched out his hand that was a little small for the cans, and touched his head.
Fann suddenly seemed to have taken stimulants and ran away holding the cookies.
As usual, there are cans who want to grab his cookies.
Before the Emperor’s Glory called out the next name, Anseth opened his eyes wide.
Then he remembered that there was such a ceremony for receiving snacks, and he immediately knelt on one knee and lowered his head.
“You are more forgetful than me.”
Guangyu smiled and touched his head.
There seemed to be a deep meaning in this sentence, and Anseth always felt that something was wrong.
But the quartermaster’s “next” and the urging of other gene brothers made him leave immediately.
“Shakli, chocolate wafers.”
Another can came forward and was touched on the head.
This is the tradition of the Ninth Legion.
The quartermaster told them stories like “The immortal touches my head, and I will live forever after I get married.”
So they asked the quartermaster if he could give them a “touching the head” blessing once a day.
The quartermaster was going to refuse, but unfortunately all the cans were watching eagerly.
This became their tradition, and even new cans who arrived during that period thought this tradition was really great.
They didn’t know that this tradition had formed a subspace projection.
Anything involving the Chaos End of Light Desire, as long as there is a pattern and scale, will become a ritual.
The evil god touches my head, and I will be immortal!
The lifespan of Astartes is generally around 1,000 years, and the Ninth Legion has a longer lifespan due to the strong vitality of Sanguinius.
As long as the Ninth Legion cans that received the evil god’s touch on their heads do not die in battle, each can still be within the shelf life of the can after 10,000 years.
When all the cans were touched, Emperor Glory hesitated.
“Well, can we not draw a lottery?”
“No!”
The cans’ carnival time!
Light Desire began to grind his teeth in anger, and the grinding sound reached the ears of the cans.
Anseth began to take out the lottery machine that had not been used for too long.
“Whoever draws number 44 will be the lucky winner of today! No arguments are allowed!”
After the captain of the Zhilian team warned the cans, he also shook the machine nervously.
On the machine, the steel balls with numbers began to roll.
The steel ball rolled around for a long time, and finally, among a bunch of names, a lucky person was chosen.
“It’s me! I’m the one chosen!”
The can named Yoli stood up, excited and incoherent.
He trotted to the quartermaster and removed the power armor on his arm.
“Manicure or head pat.”
Guangyu pouted, aggrieved.
This is a collective welfare that the cans fought for with their shameless face.
Can the evil god not be too cute in their eyes? So they have long wanted to rub him.
Others have the desire but not the courage, but one of them was so miserable that he asked the quartermaster and the military doctor for a head pat when there were only 0.4 of himself left in a war.
After cheating a head pat, this guy showed his true colors: “It’s for us to pat your head, not for you to pat our heads.”
With one can leading the way, the evil wind could not be stopped, and a bunch of cans started doing this.
In the end, it became a ghost tradition that before telling stories, you can draw a lottery to rub the evil god or cut your nails.
“Touch… or trim your nails.”
With the big gray-blue eyes staring at him, the honest can was deceived by the evil god pretending to be pitiful.
The evil god, who didn’t need to be touched, immediately took out the nail clippers and began to trim the can’s fingernails.
A quiet night, swaying firelight, a bright white moon, snow covering the world, and the side of the rock that stubbornly exposed the ground.
The nails were trimmed quickly, and Yoli returned to his seat and sat down.
Guangyu took out his fairy tale book.
