Warhammer 40: My Fiancée Fulgrim

The performance targets weren't set too harshly.

Unless it's for missionary work like Luo Jia's, the emperor won't interfere any further.

"It is a great pity that the emperor's sons, who are among the emperor's most outstanding offspring, have been unable to secure a worthy honor for you for various reasons."

Seeing that his many brothers and sisters had received the praise they deserved, Fugrim became somewhat anxious.

She had thought her achievements on Chemos were enough to be praised.

However, it seems that with the advancement of the Great Crusade and the return of Rogdoryn and Guilliman, who have experience in governing the Pocket Star Empire, things are looking up.

Her achievements are gradually becoming less significant.

However, the Third Legion's forces were almost depleted, making it no match for the Imperial Fist and Ultramarines, which numbered in the tens of thousands or even hundreds of thousands.

“I understand your anxiety, but the Emperor’s son is at a critical juncture in preparing for war, and it is not advisable to rush into battle.”

"If this group of veterans dies on the battlefield, then new recruits in the future will not be able to gain enough war experience before they are officially put into combat, and the difficulty of training will increase exponentially."

“Sisters Fugrim, your hasty conclusions about this demonstrate your lack of experience.”

"If you need experience in governing a vast interstellar empire like the five hundred worlds of Alteramar, I am always willing to share it."

His expression was sincere, but what he said didn't sound very pleasant.

But it seems Guilliman didn't realize this.

“I understand. My brothers and sisters were limited by their origins on their home planet, which meant that their education and perspectives in their youth were not as broad as mine.”

"On this point, I will help all my brothers and sisters grow and progress together."

“My adoptive father, King Connor, once warned me that the key to war lies in logistics. For an expedition spanning galaxies, the Emperor’s Sons’ Space Marine force currently numbers less than a thousand men. We must first consider the personnel of our army.”

We must farm!

They'll cultivate a large population of tens or hundreds of thousands of Space Marines, then lead the way (with a double meaning) to F2A!

Ugh.

Guilliman, shut up.

Casca silently continued to stuff the delicious steak into his mouth.

He began to understand why Guilliman wasn't particularly popular at any Primarch gatherings.

[Origin] [Early Education] [Adoptive Father: Kang Nuo Wang]

Each one is a major red flag.

“Robout, your suggestion is very instructive for the army of Fugrim.”

"But if I may be frank, your operational thinking and even your marching discipline are too rigid and inflexible."

"Your soldiers only follow the established methods and lack the ability to adapt to changing circumstances in actual combat."

That's absolutely right.

But it was Rogdorn who said those words.

A Primarch who can speak even more rudely than Guilliman.

If Rogdorn says you don't know how to be flexible, then there's probably a real problem.

"Brother, your suggestion does make some sense. But as I said before, having a good logistical management plan is the best way to avoid a crisis."

"In actual combat, the situation is unpredictable and complex. Local adjustments may not necessarily benefit the overall war effort. Everything depends on..."

broken.

The most awful mouths in the entire universe are all gathered here.

But whatever, it's none of my business as a mere legion chief lord commander anyway.

Casca continued eating.

As for Lemanrus

He was still eating.

"Okay, everyone."

"At this banquet, I would also like to share another piece of good news with you all."

The Emperor clapped his hands to stop the Primarchs' argument.

"Not long ago, our expeditionary fleet discovered a planet called [Baal]."

"On this planet, we have discovered the Ninth Legion's genetic prototype."

“A beautiful angel, Saint Gilles.”

"She will soon return to the Empire."

At Waldo's signal, several mortal servants brought out a tapestry inlaid with countless dazzling gems, as well as various exquisitely crafted statues and small handicrafts.

"This is a gift she gave us."

As the meal was cleared away (Ruth was still somewhat reluctant to leave), the waiters placed these exquisite gemstone artworks on the tables of everyone.

Everyone was generous with their praise.

Of course, Phyllis Marus is an exception.

"To be honest, investing unnecessary emotions in so-called aesthetics is just a human weakness that must be overcome."

"Haha. Phyllis, has anyone ever told you that you like to glare at everything with a fierce look?"

"It's practically like a giant Gorgon."

Phyllis is one of the most difficult Primarchs to get along with.

She is stubborn and has a bad temper.

There are very few people in this world who dare to call her Gorgon.

Fortunately, Fugrim was one of them.

"Gorgon?"

Phyllis chuckled softly, then looked past the crowd at Vulcan, the Lord of Fire Dragons, standing beside Kasga.

“Vulcan, come on, let’s switch places.”

"what?"

The honest and simple-minded Lord of Fire Dragons, who only knew how to play with small magical artifacts, naturally didn't understand the subtle power struggles between these two sisters.

"it is good."

The Lord of Fire Dragons rose and left, leaving behind his enormous chair, capable of accommodating a five-meter-tall figure.

However, the next second, Philus easily sat on the stool, which was much larger than Casca, filling the entire floor.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Casgar."

"I am glad that you accepted my invitation and are willing to join our Iron Hand Legion soon."

"I believe you will gain far more here than you would in the Third Legion or by Forgrim's side."

As she spoke, she glanced confidently at Fugrim.

Is it a provocation? Or a joke?

I don't know about Casca.

All he knew was that he was caught in the crossfire between two Primarchs.

Like a thorn in your back.

Like sitting on pins and needles.

Kasgar could feel the gazes of the two giant Primarchs on either side fixed on him alone.

What about the emperor?

What about the emperor?

Stop being so socially awkward, help me out!

But the big, golden guy seemed unmoved.

Since things have come to this, let's eat first—

Wait, where's the food?

The food has been taken away?

Tomboyish, muscular, busty senior

bliss

Chapter 62 The Emperor's Night Banquet (Part 2)

“Forgrim, I have no intention of criticizing your private life.”

Perhaps seeing the burning jealousy in her eyes, Phyllis laughed.

"But don't let the fear of not being loved by others become your weakness, my friend."

"weakness?"

Fugrim snorted dismissively.

"Hmph, in this world, who can be more glamorous or more dazzling than me?"

"no!"

"It's impossible, and there will never be anyone more deserving of all the love in the world than me."

She is very confident.

"Even the beautiful angel from the Ninth Legion that the Emperor just mentioned?"

"Casca asked in a low voice."

"of course."

Fugrim leaned closer to Kasgar and whispered in his ear, "She's the Primarch of the Ghoul Legion, you know."

She couldn't imagine how beautiful someone could be, as the original form of such a brutal and vicious army as ghouls.

Casca's question is really baffling.

Angel?

Hmph, even angels aren't as good-looking as me!

She didn't think her sister could possibly surpass her in beauty.

Casca, however, knew the entire outcome.

"Yes."

"Yes, that's it."

I can't very well refute her on the spot.

Casca chose to comply with her.

Aside from one chair remaining empty, the entire dinner did not go as difficult as Casca had anticipated.

He could sense that the Emperor was trying his best to maintain his relationship with the Primarch, but most of the time he just sat there without saying a word.

It gives off a strong aura that keeps strangers at bay.

It seems that aside from the progress of the Great Crusade, he has nothing to participate in regarding the Primarchs' discussions.

As the emperor who controls everything, he is not in a position to judge the right or wrong of the two sides in the argument.

I just listened quietly.

Just as Casca was about to end the banquet so abruptly, a royal guard in full golden armor pushed open the gilded doors of the banquet hall.

"My lord, Number Two, he's here."

The Imperial Guard stepped slightly to the left to make way, and behind him followed a tall Primarch.