Warhammer 40k: Lust of Light - Chapter 316

c307 Gnawing old warriors

When Guilliman returned, he was in a rather depressed mood. His great son and his great farmer father had sent him a large amount of beans.

Most of them are raw beans, which Rasta requested.

They also sent home-cooked beans, and the cooking techniques were quite particular.

“Let me tell you, those who dye their hair are not good people. I know a guy named Kakarot who fights all day long…”

Rasta was talking nonsense to Angron who refused to throw the hydrangea.

Angron: “What color is it dyed?”

“Golden!” Rasta was filled with indignation.

Guilliman hesitated and touched his hair.

He didn’t get into any fights either. As a good boy with a pure mind and a non-violent nature, he behaved well under Tarasha’s education.

In fact, Guilliman does look a lot like Kakarot.

Born to be violent and a “fighting race”, if Kakarot hadn’t broken his head when he was a child, he would have been a Saiyan conquering planets everywhere.

As for Guilliman, his genetic characteristics as a war madman were similar. His brain was not damaged by force, but was influenced by his adoptive parents.

“Teacher.” Guilliman decided to avoid this topic. He was more concerned about another thing.

“What’s wrong?”

Rasta tugged at the vines of the amber rose to tease the hummingbirds that gathered honey.

“Why don’t the beans cooked with butter, sugar and many precious spices taste as good as last night’s?”

Guilliman was puzzled.

Logically speaking, if the cooking method is exquisite, it should taste better, but Guilliman feels…

Tasteless food is worse than chewing wax.

“Because what you ate last night was happiness. You didn’t expect much. What you got was all surprises. Everything you did last night was an ingredient for your beans, and what you ate today is overcooked food. , your expectations are too high, and you are destined to fail to get a response.”

What Rasta was talking about was actually Guilliman’s brain.

Although Guilliman was not a violent man after being changed by his adoptive parents, he still had the genetic trait of war, so before every battle or duel with someone, he would think about how to fight.

This also makes it easy for him to overthink sometimes.

That’s fine in combat, but in one-on-one combat, this could easily become a flaw.

When fighting against his primarch brothers who were good at fighting, they used their combat skills and honed fighting instincts to come up and give him a combination of punches, and he was still thinking of combos there.

We are all Primarchs. You, Guilliman, think so much. Do you think other Primarchs can’t keep up with your thinking?

And you are originally a violent maniac. Why do you think your thinking data is so much higher than ours?

Guilliman mused, but he could not figure it out, but he had time to digest it.

“Okay, let’s go pack our things. Today’s class is an outdoor picnic.”

Rasta patted Guilliman, who always thought too much, and then waited for Thalasa to lead someone to prepare the boiled beans.

These beans already contain some salt, so no additional salt is needed.

When Guilliman came out with a big bag, Rasta knew that this guy didn’t listen at all.

“I want you to put on your best clothes and come with me!”

Rasta felt a little headache. This guy even brought a first aid kit. With two primarchs and an evil god, who was the first aid kit for?

But the current Guilliman… may or may not be used for strange and injured people he encounters.

Guilliman went to change into a majestic royal knight’s attire, which fit him perfectly.

But Rasta beat him back.

“What’s this called? How childish? Go and change into the one at the back of your wardrobe, the one your mother made for you.”

“Then…that’s not appropriate.”

Guilliman desperately wanted to refuse.

“Go quickly!”

Rasta wouldn’t give him a chance to refuse.

Guilliman hesitated, and finally walked out wearing a little blue whale children’s playground costume.

“Okay, let’s go, it’s time to set off.”

Rasta took Guilliman and Angron, who said “I don’t want this teacher” and started to look for Thalasa.

Tarasha was cooking beans, which she did herself.

Guilliman felt a little distressed.

But Tarasha rejected the suggestion that someone else do the cooking.

Guilliman was by the stove with his mother, and Tarasha’s maternal love for the little blue whale Guilliman exploded.

Rasta was taking pictures.

“Hmph, huh, ten thousand years from now, when I ask Efreni to do something, I will give her this as a reward.”

Rasta seemed to have seen the scene where Evrene threatened Guilliman with this photo.

Everené: “Guilliman, you don’t want others to know that you, a majestic imperial god, wear children’s clothes like a blue whale.”

After putting all the beans into the box, Rasta took out the human seed bag and filled the boxes one by one.

Guilliman was already used to it. As an evil teacher, he had all kinds of magical props at his fingertips.

After taking the box, Rasta stuffed the last item into it.

“Teacher! Stop! It’s me you’re arresting!” Guilliman panicked, he was about to be stuffed into the human race bag.

“Go in! I caught you by mistake.”

After Rasta packed up Tarasha’s son, he said goodbye to Tarasha, and then took Angron directly through the Ash Gate and began to go to every planet where the Smurfs were.

When we arrived at the first planet, a bunch of Smurfs had notes plastered on their faces.

“Master, I didn’t bet! I really didn’t bet!”

The squadron leader who took the lead knelt down with a plop.

“Haha, Charmander, kill him!”

After enjoying some treatment from the original body, this squadron of Smurfs said that the mission of this planet was not yet completed.

“This is simple.”

Rasta stretched out his hand and shook it towards the stars in the sky.

He said: “I have frozen the time of this star system. Let’s go, take a vacation and come back to work.”

Opening the Ash Gate, Rasta began to bring the squadron to the planet where the other Smurfs were.

After this back and forth operation, all the Sons of Guilliman finally arrived on a planet called Misukar.

Although the Chainsword Master is not yet the company commander, because he was blessed by Rasta, his status is equal to other quartermaster champion warriors in the legion.

After the little fire dragon came out, the entire thirteenth legion was considered complete.

“Well, I always feel that we are not the ones with the highest status in the legion, that guy is.”

The two company commanders pointed at the divine mechanical Charmander in aggrieved manner, not hiding their jealousy.

The most greedy deputy commander of the 7th Company, Macron, almost acted like a dog and took out his rice bowl and started banging it with his hands.

“When will dinner be served! What are we going to eat today? Are there any sausages? I don’t want anything sweet. Sweet ones don’t taste good!”

The gourmet Macro led the entire 7th Company to a wrong direction. The 7th Company was a bunch of greedy people, so even the company commander showed some restraint – superficially restrained.

“If you yell again, I’ll have Angron beat you up!”

Rasta had introduced to all the cans that Angron was his son.

Although some people guessed that this was the original body, there was no canned refutation.

There was even a Smurf calling Master with a playful smile.

The Smurfs rejoiced when the large boxes of boiled beans came out.

The auxiliary army following them really couldn’t ration beans because there were too many people.

Therefore, they could only make do with four dishes and one soup.

Eating beans boiled in salt water is like a story. Anyway, there are cans to eat beans from other cans.

Halfway through the meal, Rasta was about to put on a show.

“I also have a whale here. Do you want to eat it?”

Rasta introduced these guys to the largest wild animal on the surface of Ancient Terra.

Macro often exclaimed: “I’m so hungry that I could eat a whale.”

“Eat!” the cans shouted in unison, looking like pirates who wanted to eat Neptune.

Then the little blue whale Guilliman was pulled out of the human race bag by Rasta.

“Come on, eat your old age! The father of your genes, the original one, enough care!”