Serious People, Who is Learning Magic at Marvel?

He Shenyan was too lazy to count the number of times he burned himself.

Not bad anyway.

He had to do it, the Emperor's psionic flames were burning through his body all the time, and the unbearable pain was proof of purification - and when the pain was gone, Nurgle's blessing was completely removed from his body. Cleared out.

The mage is concentrating on breathing.

He took a deep breath, then, again.

Psionic energy and magic power are intertwined, turning into endless golden flames, replacing his blood, rushing frantically in the blood vessels. Inside the quiet room specially opened by the Vengeance, the air filtered by the magic circle is being rapidly consumed by him.

Inhale air, exhale hot air.

The rise and fall are like tides, or some kind of natural phenomenon. The crackling sound continued in his body, and the flesh and bones were being regenerated little by little.

Nurgle's blessing was gradually moving away from him, and He Shenyan could hear him sigh helplessly in the warp, like a father whose kindness had been rejected. This sigh made He Shenyan almost horrified - he knew Nurgle's image well.

So, he closed his eyes tightly and let the psionic flame burn his whole body without end. There may be some unspeakable consequences for this crazy act, but now he has no choice.

He Shenyan is actually quite aware of the possible consequences of doing so, which is nothing more than an entanglement between the nature of power.

Gu Yi started by plundering the power of other dimension demon gods. There are as many magic papers as there are in the library of the Holy of Holies, and 1,823 of them were written by Gu Yi himself. Write.

She did not sign, but He Shenyan could recognize her handwriting.

The entanglement of the nature of strength will cause the magic power of the mages to produce some unfamiliar changes, sometimes for good, sometimes for bad. It all depends on whether you can master the new power after fusion. If it can, then it is undoubtedly a good thing.

Who would think that they have too much magic power?

But that's where the problem lies. He Shenyan's original magical nature was one that he designed after careful consideration, and he could use most of the magic without any hesitation.

For example, Evocation, Fire Rain, Frost, Destructive Meteor, or Lightning. He is also very proficient in the protection system. Although he is a little worse in treatment, he is also better than many others. It can be said that he designed this magical nature for the sake of smooth battles.

Run faster, hit harder, and recover faster than everyone else - that's the full Kama Taj Mage Apprenticeship Set.

But now after the entanglement and fusion, the new power generated, he can't guarantee that it will be the same as before.

It takes a lot of time to experiment...but at this stage, what they lack most is time.

He Shenyan opened his eyes, his eyes had turned from black to gold, like burning flames, and like the sun on the horizon. He turned his head slightly, and another figure appeared in the quiet room at some point. The other party waved to him very politely.

"Is there a problem?"

The visitor was full of blond hair and had a divinely handsome face. He was more of a **** than a human being—not to mention the pair of white wings behind him.

"He asked me to see you..." Sanguinius said with a smile. "Forgive me, I believe it's not that he doesn't want to come in person, he just can't get away."

"I'm not going to be angry with an old man, and I brought it up on my own." The Master sighed. "I shouldn't be so quick."

Although he said that, he laughed: "...But, next time I will still do it."

The archangel stared at him, his wings flapping slightly behind him. The air was blurry for a while, and a fresh breeze from nowhere blew past, which slightly relieved the pain in He Shenyan's body.

Sanguinius said apologetically, "That's all I can do, sorry."

He shook his head gently, his face pitiful: "My brother just woke up from his sleep and had to deal with a sad and tragic incident."

"What happened? I brought him three new primarchs... Is there anything else that four primarchs can't handle together?"

"We are not omnipotent, even our creator will fail, how can we be omnipotent?" Sanguinius lowered his head slightly. "It's probably going to hit him mentally much more than anything else, and I'm worried about him."

He Shenyan frowned.

Sanguinius went on to say: "It's a little hard for me to talk about, after all, I was in favor of that stupid plan at the time. And now..."

He sighed again, and He Shenyan raised his hand, signaling that he didn't need to say any more. He said lightly: "I understand, the Second Empire, right?"

"you--"

The angel's expression was full of astonishment, shame, and a hint of unnoticeable relief.

"The old man sitting in the chair basically told me everything." The mage rolled his eyes.

"That's it? Trust him, Guilliman can handle it. A bunch of stupid guys trying to politically put a Primarch on the fire? Forcing him to be an emperor?"

He sneered: "It's stupid enough."

"Well, with all due respect—" The angel looked rather disturbed. "How much do you know, no, I mean, how much does he know?"

"How many things do you think he doesn't know?" He Shenyan said with a smile. "Don't worry so much, Archangel, hurry up and find a chance to get out of that hell... Your sons and daughters have suffered a lot in these ten thousand years."

Sanguinius was silent for a while, then suddenly shook his head with a wry smile: "I was clearly the condolence, but now you have comforted me. But, you are right, Mage."

His figure gradually blurred.

He Shenyan closed his eyes again, the pain continued, and the tide surged again.

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"Come one by one, don't worry - you are citizens of the Empire, His people, the Empire will not give up any of you, don't worry."

The captain held a cigarette in his mouth, which he did not light, and directed the surviving civilians to board the mechanical dragon in an orderly manner.

It's normal for them to look like they haven't broken free from their previous situation, and everyone can't be expected to be steely.

The Captain just hoped that they would pick themselves up as soon as possible and continue to make their due contribution to the Empire. Although, he didn't know what civilians could do on this ship. If it is the ships he is familiar with, they can repair some simple parts after training, or do some ordinary work, and spend their life on the ship.

There are many people who have lived like this - their ancestors have been born and died on the bottom of the same boat for generations.

There are less than 600 surviving humans on the entire planet, and most of them are suffering from various degrees of illness. Most of them are caused by malnutrition. Their eyes are dull and their walking speed is slow. The psychological shadow has not disappeared.

This is the third group of survivors gathered. They were found hiding in a small hole and spent ten days relying on mushrooms for food.

The captain pursed his lips, bit the filter of his cigarette, and reached out to summon the platoon leader who had performed extremely well in simulated combat before. "What's the food ration tonight?" he asked.

"According to the schedule, tonight's main course is lamb chops with orange soda, noodles, and apples."

"..."

The captain touched the back of his head in confusion, he was a little puzzled - where did so much food come from this ship that he had never heard of? And each one is delicious.

Is there a cook on the Vengeance or something? The food tasted so good that he felt that only nobles could enjoy such a delicious taste.

"The time shouldn't change, it's still five hours away."

The captain pulled up his sleeves and glanced at the watch on his right hand. It took them three hours from ascending the dragon to landing on the ground, and then collecting these surviving civilians in batches. According to the time on the Vengeance, there were five hours left for dinner.

"Let them eat when the food is rationed," the captain said lightly. "We're not bad for this meal, and—"

He stretched out his hand and grabbed three high-calorie energy bars from the right pocket of a row of long chests. This scene made his face twitch: "—You kid did you hide so much this time?"

The line leader smiled awkwardly: "I'm used to it."

The captain put the things back.

He glanced at a row of long trouser pockets and said lightly: "It's a good habit, but you should know the shelf life of this thing, right? We are not trapped in the trenches now, let's inform the soldiers who are hiding food today. I ate something at night, what are you keeping?"

He said with some hatred: "Besides, there must be wartime rations in wartime! What ship are we on now? Can we send a pack of cold stuff like before?"

The platoon leader was a little ashamed, but that was no way—the Empire's logistics had always been a big problem. Although the basic food ration can be guaranteed, but in wartime...

It's hard to say. Soldiers sometimes even have to figure out how to do it themselves, and the people in the logistics department can't tell how hard they are. As we all know, the delivery of supply lines not only takes time, but also has to be prepared against enemy attacks. In such situations, undersupply is all too common.

Not every regiment was fortunate enough to be stationed near the manufacturing base, and most were in the trenches bitterly eating **** corpse starch.

Fresh food and refreshments are expected luxuries during sailing and conditioning. However, once the war came to a close, all that was left to eat was the tasteless corpse starch. And the damned one, Huang Chengcheng's big lump of nutritional cream.

The latter often only get a small piece, which needs to be brewed to satisfy hunger. But most soldiers didn't have a reliable source of water at the time, so they had to eat it raw. Just swallowing that stuff was a daunting challenge, and many people bluntly stated that they would rather eat ten servings of corpse starch than a piece of nutritional cream.

But they have to eat, weight loss or malnutrition, slow thinking are unacceptable and even punished. You know, not cherishing your own body is equivalent to being ungrateful to the Emperor. In the manual issued by the Ministry of Military Affairs, this is a very serious crime.

The Cadians are even more outrageous. As an example of a mortal army, they are also extremely strict, and they are not even willing to spend a little time heating food. Most people are used to eating cold food directly. But that doesn't mean they like to eat it cold - and no fools, who doesn't want something hot?

The captain stood a little further away from the line, then lit the cigarette he had been drinking for half an hour for himself.

He took a deep breath. The fresh taste he had never tasted made him squinted in enjoyment, and the mellow aroma of tobacco was as relaxing as ever. But this brief enjoyment did not last long.

Staring at the long line that slowly boarded the mechanical dragon, the captain's face became gloomy again. He snuffed out half of the cigarette he had smoked, and put it into a separate package in his armed belt.

Damn traitor.

Just as he silently cursed the traitor in Cadia slang in his heart, the voice of the second platoon leader came from the communication channel: "Sir, the number of people has been counted. Including this group, there are a total of 593 people."

"Let the guys in charge of scanning scan the surface again and let me know after confirming that there is nothing missing."

"Yes, sir."

Ten minutes later, the mechanical dragon moved slowly and left the surface. It will return directly to the Vengeance, which is located above the planet's orbit, and the future fate of this planet is unknown.

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The captain saluted the crimson-armored giant in front of him, and said meticulously, "My lord, what are your instructions?"

Ezekiel did not take off his helmet, his face at this time was not suitable for exposing in front of mortals - the crimson tear stains looked very scary, in order to avoid possible unnecessary rumors, he felt that he was still Better to wear a helmet.

But that's why~www.readwn.com~ his voice didn't sound so gentle: "Just a routine question, how many surviving civilians are there?"

"Five hundred and ninety-three people, all confirmed. We scanned the surface five times."

"very good."

Ezekiel nodded. "Then you and your soldiers can go and enjoy the rest, Captain. Also...it's nice to see you alive."

The captain left, and Ezekiel took off his helmet. He didn't use the service nails like many Astartes, and there were two crimson tears of blood running from under the eye sockets to his neck.

Ezekiel sighed. The Crimson Blades had little experience with civilians, but he had to put them in place—or who else? Givaudan is still lying in the infirmary, and he doesn't think the veteran can give him any insight.

Don't get me wrong, he respects Jivaldoren very much, a thousand-year-old soldier usually needs to be provided in most chapters. But the other party is obviously not good at communicating with people, as for the other adult...

Ezekiel actually guessed something, but he dared not say it.