vncnus Chapter 48 Favoritism is a Reward
Chapter 48 Favoritism is a Reward
"Aren't you going to meet them yourself, my lord?" Holmes didn't respond to Hector's somewhat disrespectful address to Lercas.
He was somewhat puzzled: "If the soldiers could see you, it would be a huge boost to morale."
Hector shook his head: "I cannot intervene, Holmes."
He said decisively.
"I don't understand, my lord," Holmes asked.
"You calculated the return time of each Stormbird, the probability of the people on board, and designed a special welcome ceremony for each warrior."
"If you care about them so much, why don't you want them to know?"
"Because the number of favored spots is limited, child, consider this a reward," Hector smiled frankly.
He touched the somewhat stiff hair of his offspring beside him.
The father of genetics' answer was extremely dramatic, deviating from all of Holmes's conjectures.
However, his doubts were briefly stunned by the father of genes' doting caresses, leaving him unable to raise any questions.
"Favoritism is limited, and favoritism is the best reward."
"I never deny that, child," Hector laughed heartily.
"Just as the Emperor is to my brother Horus, and Horus is to his son Hastel Cyyanus, who is so similar to him."
"My son, do you believe that Emperor Horus, or even I, Hector, do not love my offspring?"
"Absolutely not," Holmes said decisively.
"That is the reason, my son." Hector leaned against the steel in front of him, still watching the celebration taking place in the distance, watching them receive applause and glory from the crowd on the bridge.
There is no glory in this war; glory has been tainted by the shameful and cowardly aliens.
However, the soldiers' bloodshed should be acknowledged, and their noble sacrifice should be commended.
Hector's smile grew even gentler: "We all love our offspring, but what makes us human is that we all have many flaws; no one is ever perfect."
You have no flaws. Holmes watched Hector's retreating figure.
"The expression of emotions should be precise to the individual."
"The emperor favored Horus, Horus favored Cyyanus, but in my eyes..."
Holmes forced himself not to look at Hector. Even though he was as shrewd and intelligent as he was, and already knew the answer, he was still filled with anticipation and apprehension.
Hector had no intention of playing with his son's emotions; he stated very frankly and honestly, "Paris and you have always held a place in my heart above all other legion warriors."
"One is my brother who has been with me since childhood, and the other is my most capable, trustworthy, and loyal son whom I can entrust with my life."
Buzzing—
Holmes was overjoyed and became so excited that he lost his composure.
I once wanted to run, scream, and walk around this not-so-spacious place.
Hector watched this scene with amusement.
He straightened his face: "Be more reserved, Holmes."
"Yes, yes, my, my lord," Holmes said, his voice trembling with excitement.
More ships flew in one after another, followed by several stormbirds.
Hector looked down and prepared the same familiar etiquette for these warriors, listening to the celebratory music playing in his ears.
Hector closed his eyes slightly, letting his thoughts wander and relax.
The space began to quiet down, and Hector suddenly felt like saying something. He started a casual chat with his only son, Holmes.
"The Great Expedition is a grand goal that is destined to be long and will require the efforts of several generations."
"Although I have always criticized the Emperor, for example, his extremism, his inability to express himself, his impatience, and his style of doing things, which is very much like that of a brutal warlord who only knows how to use force."
"But the Great Expedition is the one thing I will defend with my life."
Snapped!
Holmes slammed his hammer into his breastplate, silently expressing his determination.
Hector continued to talk to himself, sometimes about Troy, sometimes about the heavy tax burden, and sometimes about how the Sealholder Macado and the Emperor had repeatedly urged him to hasten the conquest or break his legions into one main expeditionary fleet after another.
This left Hector somewhat overwhelmed, and he had even made initial contact with some of the Empire's tax officials, whose attitudes were at least respectful and friendly.
They were hoping, both openly and covertly, that Hector would provide them with some support, as their tax collection had been somewhat hampered in certain areas.
At this time, Holmes would listen quietly from the side, like the most perfect and excellent listener, occasionally helping Hector solve his problems and offering very meaningful advice.
What was supposed to be a relaxing occasion to watch the offspring return victorious turned into an informal business setting.
until----
"My lord..." A night guard walked over from his work of dispersing the crowd.
His tone was hesitant, as if he was extremely reluctant to say what he was about to say.
The hesitation in his tone did not escape the notice of Hector and Holmes. Hector stopped Holmes, his face serious: "My son, report immediately. You cannot let the news lag behind."
"Could it be that the remaining alien forces on Iron Seven launched a counterattack?"
"No, my lord, Commander Valentine's offensive was swift, and they did not encounter any aliens that were nearly three meters tall and powerful." The Night Guard's mouth was slightly open, clearly still hesitant to speak.
But Hector was getting impatient, and he snapped, "Report it immediately!"
At the same time, he suddenly felt a strange unease and sorrow, a feeling of sadness that something important had been taken away and that he was powerless to stop it.
Hector experienced a long-lost hallucination called suffocation. His good mood began to disappear, and he became restless and angry like a lion, but he quickly restrained and hid it.
He continues to maintain his facade of fairness.
"Paris is severely injured. His Sus-an meninges have been activated, and he has been placed in a hibernation pod. The pharmacist and technical sergeant are already in place," the Night Guardian quickly reported.
"Oh no!" This was the only thought in Holmes' mind after hearing the name Paris, and he instinctively looked at the Father of Genetics.
At that moment, the father of genetics showed a moment of astonishment and blankness on his face.
Then came the anger and grief of a wounded lion.
Hector lifted his foot, but walked in the wrong direction.
He turned and shoved aside the Night Guard and Holmes who were following him. Then he stopped, turned to look at his offspring who was getting up from the ground, and then, as he was about to turn away again, he suddenly remembered something and said sternly, "Tell the Tech Sergeant to get lost."
"If they dare to stuff Paris into the Dreadnought, I'll hang them on the ram of the Dawn!"