Malcador coughed twice, then slammed his scepter on the floor with a dull thud, and the black stone door in front of him opened, revealing a gap.
Mortarion behind him still sat there, staring at the old man in silence.
“Can you see over there?”
Malcador asked, pushing back a small Death Guard that was trying to get closer.
It’s very difficult.
In the dim mist, a hissing sound was heard, like the sound of an insect rubbing its wings together.
[There was a scar there that was enough to hurt any soul. I couldn't stare at it for long.]
Malcador paused, and once again pushed away the approaching little Death Guard with his foot. This time it did not move, but stood there, looking up at Malcador.
The old man sighed softly.
“… they are really angry… that’s where the real battle is.”
The two bright yellow dots in the white mist narrowed their eyes.
[Didn't you say there were at least three powerful legions on that side? Or are you worried about corruption? ]
Malcador reached out and pulled his hat back, hiding himself in the shadow of the hood.
"You know what I'm talking about, Pale Lord."
Malcador paused.
"If you want to be more cautious, then you should try using your new abilities."
"At least we need to hold on to this place and stabilize the rear area."
“… Then, you can try something else.”
I will.
A hoarse voice sounded, and the silent black shadow disappeared into the mist.
Malcador sighed. The storm had not yet subsided, making it difficult to locate and sail. Should they wait for the Astronomican to rekindle - or, another miracle
"You can leave later."
The old man suddenly said,
"In order to maintain regional stability, Guilliman intends to establish a short-lived autonomous state, and he intends to make you the Warmaster..."
“… You need to at least show one side.”
Without replying, Malcador stared at the small Death Guard at his feet, which had stopped after its second failed attempt to climb onto Malcador and stood there staring at him.
+Not interested!+
The little guy screamed.
——————
Warmaster.
A beautiful word, representing power, responsibility, the submission of millions of people, the command of thousands of stars...
But these are not the most important things.
Most importantly, it represented his trust in the Chosen One.
But Lions know that true trust does not require rewards.
Lion Johnson stood silently at the bow of the Indomitable Truth with his head held high like a lion. The glow of the exploding star flowed slowly from the porthole to his feet.
The Dark Angels, who were originally hovering near the Midnight Lords, ready to guard the Eighth Legion of Judgment, encountered some minor difficulties in this star field.
This should have been a vindication done along the way, a galaxy of moderate size, countless industrial planets, and a huge forging world.
But the Astronomican died out just as they began to bring down the sword of war.
Then, madness set in.
Perhaps any Primarch would feel confused and crazy about what he saw next, what he realized, and what he thought after seeing it all.
But he is Lion Jonson.
So, after losing a quarter of the fleet, initiating the Ikaros Protocol, and detonating a star in a potentially habitable system,
The Dark Angel once again became the sharp sword of the Lion, even though the blade was worn, stained with blood, and emitted an unpleasant bloody smell.
There was the sound of soft footsteps, and the lion did not need to turn around to know it was Coswayn.
[Have you found my brother?]
"According to the information from the monitoring matrix, there is an 83% probability that the Eighth Legion's Night Lords are moving towards Baal during their last warp jump."
"but,"
Koswain paused.
"According to predictions, their voyage will not be smooth. The monitoring matrix has detected other psychic fluctuations heading straight for the Eighth Legion."
The lion's eyes calmly reflect a burning galaxy, where billions of lives will be reduced to ashes. Any creature with a conscience will hesitate and waver, but the lion will not.
Because he knew it was the right thing to do.
Get ready.
Leon said,
[If my brother and I were treated the same way... then I think we could have a trial.]
He didn't think Conrad Coates would survive this.
Now hope is gone, the Astronomican is extinguished, the Emperor, the Warmaster, all of them are gone, Chaos is everywhere, but fortunately the Lion never relies on those battles.
He only fights for loyalty.
————
[I want to see Conrad Coates.]
Phoenix bent down, his long, soft silver hair hanging on Sevatar's shoulder armor, while Sevatar's dark eyes stared at Fulgrim without blinking.
If it were any other day, or if it were during the Great Crusade, Sevatar would never have done this, as it would have been disrespectful to the Primarch.
But now the order is broken and no longer what it used to be.
In the broken galaxy, the Primarch was nothing more than a rag doll who had no control over his own destiny.
Sevatar is the final person in charge of the Eighth Legion, and he cannot show weakness.
"grown ups,"
Sevatar tried his best to smile, his fake smile was uglier than crying, revealing his fangs.
"My father said he doesn't want to see you."
Sevatar spoke softly, and Fulgrim narrowed his eyes dangerously. The Primarch's slender fingers on Sevatar's shoulder armor exerted a little force, and Sevatar's shoulder armor made a wailing sound as if it was about to break.
[Did he say that—or do you think he should say that?]
Sevatar swears to God, this time it was really Konrad Curze who said it himself. Although he locked Curze up, tied him to a pillar, extracted his gene seeds at the maximum frequency, and did not feed him to reduce the frequency of his madness - but swear to God, this time it was really Konrad Curze who said it himself.
Even though he was mad when he said this.
Sevatar grinned again, but this time it was purely mocking. Endless suffering had long made him no longer afraid of the Primarch.
Fulgrim saw that something was wrong with the Night Lords, just as Sevatar saw that something was wrong with the Phoenix.
Sevatar silently crossed out Fulgrim from the list of possible candidates, and now only Sanguinius was left on the list.
"My Lord, in the name of the Emperor, this is what Konrad Curze said himself, but if you insist on seeing him - then I can disobey his orders."
Fulgrim pushed Sevatar away violently, and Phoenix snorted contemptuously.
[Just as I thought,]
Fugen said coldly,
[Greedy fellow, what do you want in order to let my brother go? ]
Sevatar stretched out his hands in vain,
"Sir, a safe place where we can rest is not our original intention, but after the Star Torch went out, my father's condition became worse and worse, so we had to do this."
Fugen was silent. Sevatar could see a corner of his gorgeous and exquisite appearance, which was endless fatigue and doubt.
There is always a place to rest.
Forgan said,
"Now, take me to my brother - no tricks, or the Emperor's Children will tear your fleet apart at any time."
Sevatar moved aside to make way for the Phoenix.
"I will obey your orders, but please allow me to say one last thing. My father, Conrad Curze, said that he does not want you to go to him."
[lead the way.]
Yay!
(End of this chapter)