dmims Chapter 47 Returning Ships
Chapter 47 Returning Ships
After a bumpy journey, the Stormbird that Salpedon was riding became one of the first Astartes to return to the Queen Glory-class battleship Dawn.
Stepping off the Stormbird and standing on the deck of the Dawn, looking at everything familiar around him, Salpedon felt a sense of joy, as if he were returning home, even though it had only been a few days.
He wasn't the first to step off the Stormbird, just like his detached nature.
Salpedon mingled in the crowd, wearing a helmet, with only the skull on his shoulder armor distinguishing him from the rest.
Looking around, the bridge of the Dawn was bustling with activity and appeared somewhat crowded.
With the help of transport ships, a large number of mortal auxiliary troops and vehicles have completed their full withdrawal from the surface of Iron Seven.
The deck where the stormbirds were perched was in complete disarray and chaos.
Countless shipwrights, from the world of Sintira's forging, along with red and blue mechanical cult technicians and a large number of mechs, rushed forward to begin the post-return inspection of the Stormbird, which was still emitting roars.
Some of the mechanical engineers, whose eyes had long since been replaced with gemstones, were glowing red as if they were seeing a woman they admired. They murmured softly as if possessed, and lovingly stroked the damaged Stormbird fuselage with their hands.
Occasionally, he would utter the most offensive binary insults directed at the pilot, and punch and kick the machine gunners who were maintaining the artillery beside him.
Before Salpedon could walk alone on the magnificent warship, a group of Trojan mortal guards, armed with rifles and dressed in silver and red, approached, carrying bowls of water and sprigs of the nameless wildflowers of Middle Nest that Valentine was familiar with.
An elderly man with a silver laurel wreath, a full head of white hair, and dressed in a black and gold royal palace attendant's robe walked at the front.
His back remained straight, but he stood humbly before all the returning dawn messengers.
"Lercas".
A dawn messenger of noble birth from Upper Nest recognized the old man before him.
Hector was one of his most trusted personal attendants before he had grown up quickly and before he returned to the Empire.
A learned yet humble old man, who refused to undergo life-extending surgery, did not pursue glory, did not care about pleasure, and had royal blood from a collateral branch.
The moment the words were spoken, the young soldiers instantly stood up straight, as if waiting for inspection. Salpedon took a deep look at the kind old man in front of him.
He didn't recognize him because he was just the son of a gangster from the bottom rungs of society.
"No need for that, warriors," Lercas said gently.
His voice carried the kindness of an elder, and his gentle tone made every messenger of dawn feel close to him.
The word "warrior" in particular made these Trojan warriors feel a sense of familiarity and brought them closer together.
Lercas smiled and said, "I am very pleased that the King has bestowed this honor upon me, allowing me to greet you, to greet the great warriors who have vanquished the enemies of mankind."
"We..." A soldier's voice was filled with hesitation and pain as he lowered his head in shame. "We are unworthy of this."
His words reminded the soldiers, who had been holding their heads high with pride, of their fallen brothers and comrades, and of the high casualty ratio, and their spirits also plummeted.
"We are unworthy of this."
"We have failed the King."
"I······"
A jumble of noises rang out from the ranks of these superhuman warriors. Even though no one spoke loudly, the nearly one hundred-strong company was still loud enough for those nearby to hear clearly.
The sight of Lercas so solemnly leading his entourage to celebrate the triumphant return of his men attracted countless eyes.
Everyone is watching this.
Lercas did not forcefully suppress these recruits, who were essentially just kids in their twenties.
He wasn't good at this either.
Lercas held up a bowl of incredibly pure fresh water and called out to everyone, "Salpedon."
His voice was firm, as if he was certain that he was there.
The noise in the crowd suddenly stopped. All the dawn messengers looked at each other, and finally, with great tacit understanding, they began to part ways to the left and right.
Before the procession could even get Salpedon to appear, his voice rang out: "Sir, I'm here."
Salpedon stepped out from the crowd.
It was a bit crowded at first, but the line spontaneously formed a wide passage.
Just as everyone admired Achilles at Troy, they admired Salpedon for leaving the lightning claw in the alien's spine.
The giant's 2.3-meter-tall body covered the upright old man.
Lercas wasn't tall; even when he stood up straight, he could only barely reach below the giant's shoulder armor.
"Warrior, would you be willing to bend down for an old man like me?" Lercas joked.
"No," Salpedon refused.
Before Lercas could find any excuses for Salpedon, Salpedon solemnly knelt on one knee, so that a mortal could see his visor.
Salpedon removed his helmet, revealing his leaden skin: "You deserve respect."
The old man laughed heartily, but instead of agreeing, he said earnestly, "Warrior, stand up."
Now it was Salpedon and the other Dawnbringers who didn't see anything wrong with it that began to be surprised. Lercas's reputation and status in Troy were worthy of the respect of these Trojan warriors.
The old man placed the bowl of water in Salpedon's palm, took a step forward, and reached out to wipe the skull image on Salpedon's shoulder armor, which had been corroded by the blood of the Kraf alien.
The words that followed were solemn and powerful: "You are victorious warriors, you are the Trojans chosen from among thousands to become kings, to fight for the emperor, you fought bloody battles against the enemies of mankind, against those who sought to destroy the bright future of humanity."
"Warriors, remember this."
"No one is worthy of your worship except the king and the emperor."
As he finished speaking, amidst the sounds of his mechs at work, Lercas gently patted the skull on Salpedon's shoulder armor and chuckled, "Quite distinctive, warrior."
"Then stand up, warrior."
Salpedon rose from the ground.
"So, warrior, are you willing to bow down for this old man?" Lercas asked with a beaming smile.
"It is my honor," Salpedon said, bowing.
The flower branch was pinned to Salpedon's armor.
Following Sarpedon, the guards from Troy marched in orderly steps toward the dawn messengers.
Joyful sounds rang out from the formation.
"Well done, kid."
"Your father will be proud of you."
"Brother."
"Haha, as expected of my younger brother."
Not far away, in a place with an excellent view, Hector dismissed the enthusiastic mortals who rushed forward. He and Holmes alone watched the scene unfold before them, in high spirits.
"The old man did a good job."