The breath of death is hanging over this place.
Malcador, wearing a heavy gas mask, stood in front of a pile of burning ashes. Countless corpses with slit throats turned to ashes under the green phosphorescent fire.
The picture of hell in front of the old man was reflected in the dark eyepiece of his gas mask.
Poisonous fire rose, and suffocating mist rose from the flames of corpses. Countless aliens and human traitors whose vocal organs were silenced by the poison had their throats slit silently by the Death Guards, and then pushed into the seven blazing fires in the hall.
Karas the Fearless was holding Mortarion's sickle Mistletoe, standing in a circle of seven fires. In front of him were seven aliens of different races tied up.
People waited quietly.
Finally, as if he had noticed something, a strange light flashed across Malcador's eyepiece. The old man lowered his scepter, and the golden flame on the scepter was stained with a layer of bright green.
Malcador placed the head of the scepter into the phosphorescent fire that burned the body before him.
Seven seconds later, Malcador raised his scepter violently and chanted an ancient spell. Green flames rose up and burned violently, with billowing smoke and dust spewing out from it.
Malcador, whose whole body began to twitch due to the spell, shouted like a wizard performing a sacrifice.
“It’s now!!!”
The fearless, silent in the center of the altar, raised the mistletoe, the sickle was sharp, blood splashed, death, death, death again, death seven times, calling on their Lord.
In the firelight, twisted moth shadows twisted on the walls of the Endurance, and monsters of the Warp were summoned, revealing their true forms from the physical world.
A groaning sound of dying sounded in the silence.
+…Fuck. +
The Pale Lord cursed weakly like drowning. Mortarion, who had been crawling on the ground, slowly stood up. His drooping wings began to fold again as he stood up.
But Malcador saw the punctured wound between Mortarion's outstretched wings. The Pale Lord's armor was shattered here, revealing hideous flesh and blood. The swollen and greasy wound was exposed, oozing with dark and sticky venom.
Mortarion gasped loudly and folded his wings. Now the wound was completely hidden under his wings.
Mortarion took a deep breath, and white mist spurted out from under his gas mask. Standing in the poisonous mist, the Pale Lord stood relaxed, as if he liked this environment very much.
Malcador, wearing a heavy gas mask, walked over holding the scepter.
"You were exiled?"
The old man pointed out bluntly,
Under the hood, Mortarion, who had already stood firmly in the physical world, looked at Malcador with dissatisfaction, but after taking seven breaths, Mortarion finally spoke.
[I asked to be exiled.]
The Primarch said,
[He is competing with me for power... I cannot defeat Him unless...]
"impossible"
Malcador said calmly,
"Don't think about summoning the [Dead] anymore. Your psychic power is too conspicuous to the [Dead]. Maybe others can remember him occasionally, but you can't."
"Unless one day the Empire no longer needs you, you can die anywhere you want. At that time, you can summon him however you want."
A muffled cough was heard from under the gas mask, and Mortarion frowned.
"Shortcuts are always tempting, but you must know the price you will pay for taking shortcuts - Magnus is the best example of this."
As always, Mortarion ignored Malcador's sermon.
[You have grown weaker, Malcador?]
Mortarion frowned, "I don't think summoning me will waste too much of your spiritual energy."
Malcador coughed and shook his head.
"There is no time in the warp - the future can also affect the present. I am getting closer and closer to my anchor point. This is inevitable."
"At least I know what I am doing, Mortarion."
Under the mask, Malcador's eyes were sharp.
"You should also know what you should do."
[… I understand.]
Mortarion said sullenly, but the old man hunched over and walked around behind Mortarion.
"You are still too anxious."
The old man pointed this out calmly.
"Then let us see if your urgency is worth the price you pay."
Mortarion was silent for a moment, then spoke again.
Horus,
He said, "Horus betrayed me. I fought him. He was slightly stronger than me - but it's hard to say after that. After seeing the Khan, he seemed more willing to accept the power of Chaos."
“It’s foreseeable.”
Machado said, "Go on."
[Alpha, two Alphas, I can't tell which one of them is the original, but they both fell, one fell into the pool of blood, and the other... replaced me. ]
Malcador was silent now. The old man remained silent for a long time, as if in deep thought.
Finally, Malcador sighed.
"I raised Alpha myself."
He said, “I misled him.”
Mortarion's eyes flicked to Malcador,
[The part about fate and secrecy?]
Malcador nodded heavily. "He misunderstood."
Makado nodded.
[And Fulgrim and Magnus,]
Mortarion continued, "Horus mentioned them when he was trying to lure the Khan into surrender, and it sounds like they also betrayed him."
"Has the Khan betrayed?"
Malcador suddenly asked,
[No,]
Mortarion replied, "I sense the same aura in him as I do."
Malcador paused, and then the old man managed to laugh.
"Hate the Empire, but hate Chaos even more?"
[right.]
Mortarion said nonchalantly,
[At least he is loyal.]
"Well," Malcador nodded, "the Khan is aware... and that is a good thing—"
"—where's Corax?"
Mortarion paused for a moment before answering.
[he…]
Mortarion said slowly, "I threw him towards the White Scars' ship when I was finally expelled - but my domain was suddenly cut off, and I was fighting him with all my strength at that time. I don't know where he returned to the physical world."
Malcador was silent for a moment, then said simply,
"Okay, so we lost Corax in this battle, what about his legion?"
[It was dispersed by Horus' fleet, and one third of it remained. ]
Malcador shook his head.
"The Raven Guard's ships will be incorporated into the White Scars. We can stop worrying about the Raven Guard from now on."
Mortarion seemed to be surprised by Malcador's answer. The Pale Lord lowered his head and looked at Malcador in disbelief.
[Raven Guard was not important in your original plan?]
The Pale Lord asked,
"No," said Malcador, "the Imperium is merely prepared to lose, to sacrifice, any Legion, any Primarch, any individual."
"Is there any other news?"
Malcador said. The old man was silent for a moment, remembering the Emperor's last words.
"For example, a mechanical alien, Mortarion, have you encountered a similar existence?"
Mortarion looked at Malcador in surprise.
[I did encounter a mechanical sage who was completely soulless—I'm not sure, I was planning to interrogate him after teleporting back.]
But the plan failed and Mortarion was forced to choose exile.
[He also...]
Mortarion paused, as if realizing something.
[In the end, he was swept away holding one of my Familiar, but now I can't feel my Familiar. ]
He could no longer feel his power. Each small Death Guard was an extension of the Pale Lord's power, but now, Mortarion could no longer feel it at all.
[What is that? !]
Mortarion shouted in exasperation.
————
"A smaller Death Guard with slightly altered proportions."
Trazyn said, returning to his private room in the Silent Order after a brief break with the Khan, Trazyn poked the struggling little Death Guard in his hand with interest.
The little Death Guard gave a slight shrill cry that sounded like a war cry in a distorted tone, and it drew a small dagger from its waist and tried to stab Trazyn.
Trazyn thought it was fun.
"I have isolated the subspace. It's useless for you to shout."
Trazyn let out a mechanical laugh, lifted up his mechanical robe, and tucked the little Death Guard into the shadow of his robe. The little Death Guard's voice faded away, and the stasis in his robe made it quiet.
Escaped for now.
Trazyn thought that at least he didn't have to face Mortarion. Mortarion was more difficult to deal with than he had imagined. It seemed that he had to make more preparations.
Unfortunately, he did not get the dagger of the Primarch, which disappeared along with Corax.
…Corax, Trazyn’s thoughts darkened for a moment.
I hope he is okay, the Space Overlord thought, he can now use other bodies to look for Corax, maybe Corax will need his help.
The physical location corresponding to the subspace coordinates where the Raven Lord fell last is -
The green indicator light on Trazyn's face flashed, and his spies in various parts of the galaxy were working simultaneously to find the Primarch he hoped to find for the Space Overlord.
—Near the fleet of the Emperor's Children?!
No more, yay!
(End of this chapter)