Chapter 519 Istvan III (4)
The divination hall was filled with a light bile-yellow mist and exuded a slightly pungent smell, but for the original body and captain of Barbarus, this familiar environment would not make people choke - This light mist is the air of the home star that Mortarion brought from Barbarus into the void of the universe.
With Mortarion's tacit approval, the air of the Death Guard homeworld has been carefully regulated; today's partial preservation of the past atmospheric environment is to take care of the locals' lungs as they adapt to the toxic air, providing a long and gentle period. buffer.
Typhon watched his primarch pace among the divination crystals.
After a precisely designed arrangement, these crystals seemed to be able to calculate the present and even part of the future that Mortarion wanted to infer through the combination of light and dark at specific angles.
However, during their journey filled with anxiety and disbelief, the crystal seemed to have lost its effectiveness. No matter how much Mortarion muttered and repeatedly deduced the algorithm he defined, he could not see clearly why Magnus died. .
Or, he saw part of it, but he was neither able to get a full picture of that period of history, nor was it enough to convince Mortarion of his resistance.
After all, Typhon could sense that psychic shadows were wandering around Mortarion, and the fluorescence brought by the surreal substance shimmered faintly with the shaking of the scythe in his hand. This means that his Primarch is still exposed to the mysterious sorcerous energy of the Warp in his own unique way, and is utilizing it - in a way that perhaps even Mortarion himself cannot fully recognize. Way.
Just like Ahriman said - Typhon thought of the chief think tank he met in the Sun of Thousand Dusts. His lord was like a blind man walking on the edge of a cliff, using a carefully designed crutch to carefully ensure the path under his feet.
But he had become too accustomed to a crutch, and he was already walking too well. Perhaps rashly forcibly erasing the shadows in front of his eyes would shatter his stubbornness into frightening confusion and wrong steps.
When Azhak Ahriman whispered to him, his light blue eyes always had his unique melancholy. Typhon couldn't help but wonder whether the gifted black raven had also disappeared into the dust of history along with Prospero.
"Sir, I haven't heard what the Imperial Guard said to you outside the throne room. Besides, you have been deeply troubled by it after leaving Terra." Typhon hesitated for a moment, but asked directly, knowing full well that Motta Lean abhorred any form of politeness or flattery, and their friendship stood up to questions that might have been offensive to other Legions.
Half of Mortarion's haggard face was plunged into darkness, leaving only his bright yellow eyes exposed to the dim dusk light in the room. At this time, these eyes were filled with deeper unhappiness and even some kind of anger.
The first half of his words sounded quite calm. As he spoke, the primarch sat down on his knees in the soft tapestry blanket in the center of the crystal circle, holding the scythe flat in front of him at a specific angle.
"The Golden Guards first announced Perturabo's betrayal and the Emperor's intention to re-proclaim Horus Luperkar as Warmaster..."
Mortarion said thoughtfully, the crystal flickering around him. "As soon as Horus returns from the Istvan system, the Terran Council will officially start this process... At this point, are they still clinging to formality?"
"Besides, Aurelion. Am I willing to obey his orders?" Mortarion sneered sarcastically. At this point, he paused abruptly, and then continued dullly: "In the end, Magnus really ...No more.”
"I understand, my lord." Typhon shook his head, judging Mortarion's attitude.
Mortarion threw him a complicated answer, and he wasn't sure how he could express his hatred for the Word Bearers and his disbelief at Perturabo's betrayal at the same time. Of course, the most important thing is, should he be depressed about the departure of the Crimson Primarch? Which emotion best suited the resentful Primarch before him?
No. he thought. For Mortarion, it was the unspoken words that contained the most unacceptable hurt.
"The Emperor's silence is unfortunate for us," he advised, his memory faintly flashing back to the Emperor who came to Barbarus to become a hermit more than a hundred years ago, and his voice sounded more sincere, "But we must always There is a time to make your own decisions. In fact, sir, we have always done so.”
"Of course." Mortarion frowned, stretched out his hand to touch the long handle of the scythe wrapped in cloth, and immediately grasped it tightly, veins bulging on the back of his hand. The sharp and heavy scythe was raised in an instant, and the tip of the hook suddenly pierced one of the many crystals.
A handful of black mist that even Typhon could see spurted out from the pure crystal, and Typhon was surprised. From his perspective, this meant that in their environment, a witchcraft energy that they had never noticed had become dense enough to condense into droplets, faintly passing through the protection of the Geller force field, emerging from the void. Witchcraft sea and air dissolve into reality.
Mortarion stood up and stared gloomily at the broken crystal. The black mist dissipated quickly, and the pleasant light yellow mist no longer contained the dangerous burning smell and the terrible omen of destruction. But this unexpected discovery undoubtedly took root in the heart of the original body and cast a wide range of dark clouds.
"We are very close to Istvan." Typhon reminded in surprise. "Is this fog related to what is happening on Istvan III?"
Mortarion took a slow breath and let it out through clenched teeth. The intensity of his emotions seemed to surprise even himself. His gaze swept over: "My calculations do not provide an answer to this. Are we almost there? Very good, I have to see Horus."
"Where's the Word Bearer?" Typhon asked.
"No one cares about that villain." Mortarion objected unhappily, his eyes flashing with thought.
Who has the ability to trigger a mysterious witchcraft near Istvan III?
Not the Death Guard themselves, they are pure in the warp; not the Luna Wolves, the Iron Warriors or the Imperial Fists, they have an established think tank system, but it is not enough to obscure the accuracy of his numerology.
Alpha Legion? It was doubtful that the fungi that lived in the shadows and damps were elusive and elusive... but he had never smelled the stench of sorcery in their primarch, or whoever might have been the primarch.
Of course, he thought grimly, of course, it can only be the Word Bearers. That group of people - but those people who hold most of the Empire's truth regulations in high esteem, could they be contaminated with subspace witchcraft? If this is the case, then Lorgar Aurelion finally learned to openly trample on the creed and show his obedience. Then, he may have lost his last precious virtue.
"So, after we met Lord Horus, we went straight to Isstvaan III to participate in the war, regardless of one of the suggestions the Emperor gave you?" Typhon asked.
Mortarion remained silent.
"Please allow me to speak frankly, my lord, regardless of your attitude towards the Word Bearers, without ever meeting them, we will have many questions that cannot be answered." Typhon placed his fist near his heart and crossed Mota Lian objected silently, "Then, my lord, I request to meet Lorgar Aurelion on your behalf. As your comrade and your first company commander."
Mortarion was tempted to reject Typhon's offer, but his First Captain was right, and the Death Guard were not a Legion that chose to circumvent the odds.
Some of his brothers may be flexible and choose the path that is most comfortable for them, but the Death Guard simply crush everything in their path with thick armor and unforgiving tracks. Especially, at such a fateful moment, when he must find the source of that destructive black psychic energy, he cannot easily let go of the opportunity that is closest to him.
"I will not go with you to meet Lorgar Aurelion, who hates Magnus and me as much as I hate him. But I will not let you go alone. Let the Battle Captain accompany you."
Some of his legions had other combat missions to deal with, and not every company commander had arrived in the Istvan system.
"You will bring me Aurelion's attitude and news, and look for traces of witchcraft and evil energy. You must come back here, come back to me, and hand over to me your harvest, more or less."
Seventh Company Commander Nathaniel Gallo? One of the few Terran warriors in the legion, Typhon's thin and calm face appeared in his mind.
"Yes, sir." Typhon smiled and knocked on his chest again.
Mortarion squinted and looked at the reflection of his eyes as bright as lights in the crystals. A bad intuition seeped into his fingers along his cold scythe.
"No," the Lord of Death changed his mind, "I will not leave Aurelion alone with my Death Guard. You will go with me to see Horus. Accordingly, I will go with you to the Trilogy. . Just in time to see the new ship given to him by the Adeptus Mechanicus... Oh, those blind Martians."
——
Togaton pushed open the partially opened metal door and held his helmet in his hand. There were several short bloodstains on his face, and a strong smell of copper and iron lingered in the hot air after the battle, instantly filling the limited indoor space. The other warriors crowded here couldn't help but make some distance for Togaton, and then everyone quickly got back to work and returned to their tasks.
"I heard that the Death Guard is coming, Loken?" Togaton threw his helmet on the table, put his hands on the edge of the table, and looked at the meditator display embedded in the center of the movable metal table. The icy cold green light flickered on half of his companion's body.
"I hope they brought the antidote as a courtesy to the other Cousin Legions as well," Togaton said.
"How come I didn't know they would release poison on us?" Loken did not look up from the information in front of him because of the wisecrack. After all, he had fought together with the Death Guard soldiers and even established a friendship with their seventh company commander. And he is not as accustomed to making all kinds of little jokes as Togaton.
"Come and see this."
He stepped aside and Togaton glanced at the screen. "Oh, Kahn."
The Legion Commander of the World Eaters has appeared on the front line, and the number of reports of serious injuries from there is increasing sharply. The requisitioned health train will soon carry a third of the pharmacy department and a large number of engineers to complete the work they need.
The total number of enemy Astartes in that direction is expected to exceed ten thousand, and the auxiliary army will not be less than one million. More than three hundred aircraft are hovering above the castle, and the enemy's supplies there cannot be observed from the ground. I am afraid there are A large number of garrison troops are organized in the shadows from the middle nest to the lower nest.
One Titan was even torn apart by a team of World Eaters, like a giant elephant being mauled to death by a pack of mad dogs - with the help of the Iron Warriors' artillery, of course.
"They even plan to launch an attack outside." Loken said, "Kahn is finding a breakthrough from our front."
"No way, the World Eaters are good at attacking, and Kahn, as the commander of the legion," Togaton laughed, "Ah, as the commander of the legion, of course he condenses the combat style of the entire legion. Just as the Death Guard came... "His smile disappeared, "The collision between them will bring maximum bloodshed."
"Even more so when the Primarch himself joins the fray," Loken said softly, although there were no Primarchs directly fighting on the front lines yet.
"Where are the Emperor's Children?" Togaton asked. "Where's Tavitz?"
"We won't see him again until we retake the first base station we lost." Loken said, noticing a new signal, he opened the message in the center of the screen.
News came from the Word Bearers' flagship that Mortarion, the Death Guard Primarch, had a pleasant meeting with them. They shared the current combat situation of Isstvaan III and carefully studied the evil deeds of the Iron Warriors. , introduced each other's draft strategic plans, and swore each other's absolute loyalty to the emperor, etc.
"It doesn't sound like anything is being negotiated," Togaton pointed out astutely.
"There are still many new military orders." Loken refuted his friend, "The Death Guard will follow the Gilamet Wasteland deep into the gap between Song City and Fugue City, destroying the strata to cut off communication between the two sides. Contact; participate in smashing the Emperor's Children defense line west of the Cantor Palace; First Captain Typhon and Mortarion himself march from the front road directly to the Cantor Palace where Perturabo is located; full force action, no reserves on standby."
"This shows that we need to strengthen our focus on attacking next." Togaton thought intently, analyzing some of the general's tendencies from these orders. "By the Emperor, will they really sit peacefully at the same long table in the conference hall one day?"
"Oh, I'm not sure, because these orders came from the Vengeful Spirit." Loken added, answering Togaton's doubts.
Loken believed that the Primarch Mortarion had met their father, Horus Luperkar. What will they talk about? Loken can't be sure...
He could imagine some of it: imagining how the taciturn Mortarion would be softened again and again in the presence of the venerable Horus, just as their father had been every time he met Mortarion. .
Will the Lord of Death rejoice in the awakening of Horus? It must have been maintained at a subtle level, a level that only their father's sensitive and energetic mind could reach.
However, this harmony will be fleeting, and the indelible pain will lie between them, as well as the rift of suspicion that will follow... because it is the Luna Wolf who is ordered to destroy Prospero. And Horus and Magnus are almost the only two prime ministers who have truly touched Mortarion's heart...
Death has cut open scars that will never heal everywhere, within the legions and between the legions.
"Sir," his deputy called to him, "you should see this."
Loken stopped overthinking, and after a brief moment of disappointment, he quickly regained his composure. "Come," he said seriously.
The adjutant adjusted the access key in the data pad for him, and some images from the other side's battle were immediately displayed in the room, further occupying the already insufficient space.
Togaton stared at the image floating in the projection. "I almost doubt they are the Fifteenth Legion." "Because of those halos?"
"Because the color of their armor has changed to red, Gavir. But the coloring is far less beautiful than the one we witnessed in Prospero," Togaton said, "Although from the perspective of clearly distinguishing ourselves from the enemy, we It's the Word Bearers who should be praised. How did they do it?"
He paused for a few seconds, listening to the chorus of singing coming from the communication, and then continued in disbelief, "Only by singing praises to the Emperor? By their faith and rage?"
Miracle. Or curse. Loken thought to himself.
Forgive him that he can only think of these words that go against the objective truth of the Empire - because this is what he is witnessing now. In the bloody battle with the Emperor's Children, several Word Bearers who are obviously in a state of death because they are alone are embracing of supernatural phenomena.
The Word Bearers had apparently transcended the limitations of the Empire's technology through some controllable form, and put on an invisible radiant shield that was enough to burn the enemy and protect themselves.
As they recited the Imperial Code of Truth loudly and traced the Aquila emblem on their chests with their fingers, bombs rained down on them, falling one after another and piling up among the corpses beneath their boots. Sharp swords and roaring weapons hit the outer layer of their armor, either sliding away along the curved surface, or breaking into cracks everywhere.
Even if the enemy's power sword really barely broke through the gleaming armor and fatally slashed into the Word Bearer's abdomen, Loken still witnessed with his own eyes that warrior exempted himself from at least falling into a state of suspended animation, using the burning The heavy hammer smashed into the purple-gold shoulder strap of the Emperor's Son, causing his enemy to fall with half of his body destroyed and burning... Of course, the Word Bearers' strength and speed also exceeded the limits they should have.
Around the battlefield, the blood continued to sublimate and disappear in the golden halo as thin as a mist, as if the entire area was being enveloped in some kind of true sanctified light.
Although, this scope of miracles soon ended...
The blood no longer rises, the dazzling light gradually fades away, the high-pitched prayers of the Word Bearers turn into low murmurs, and they once again return to the flesh and blood that can be killed, and they just nimbly walked away to temporarily avoid The sharp-edged Emperor's Children quickly surrounded them and executed half of the Word Bearers squad.
Despite this, in a short miraculous amount of time, the three Word Bearers still had more than ten Emperor's Children fall before them - an astonishing ratio, especially for someone who was not bad at close quarters sword fighting. of the Emperor's Children Legion.
"Is the Golden Throne... really protecting the Word Bearers?" Togaton was deeply affected by the mental impact. A horrifying fact emerged before him, that is, the Word Bearers had truly received a visible blessing - a divine blessing that no entire legion had ever truly received during the Great Crusade.
"I must admit, this was not what I expected, Mortarion. Perhaps this is why Aurelion dared to send his sons to advance the battle line so aggressively." Horus Luperkar said, from below And Shangji reached out his hand and let his fingers brush over the projected virtual image installed in the command bridge of the Vengeful Spirit, as if he was holding up a corner of the battlefield below.
"Let me just say that in my impression, the warriors of the Word Bearers are not as naturally strong as the Death Guard." Horus added.
"You believe them?" Mortarion said, then squeezed his mouth shut.
Even though the projection in front of him had followed the fall of the Word Bearers warrior and followed the camera into a faintly transparent darkness, he still stared at the picture that was extremely terrifying to him, his fingers on the gray-yellow robe. Some calculation symbols are outlined between the folds. After a few seconds, he grasped the robe, tightening his fingers, then unclenching them.
He got nothing. There was no answer in his mind about the wonders of the Word Bearers, everything seemed to lie behind a hazy mist...
But, Mortarion thought sceptically, he did find that the miracles were manifested in the same form of psionic sorcery that the Emperor had once shown him.
Had he misunderstood Lorgar Aurelion? Just like when he got nothing but Aurelion's constant pretense aboard the Trilogy?
Or is this a ploy to cover up their hidden rebellion?
However, the unhappiness in his heart quickly outweighed his rare tolerance for Aurelion. Aurelion's thoughts and attitudes have never changed, and when he brings up the topics they once argued about, that over-obsessive stubbornness is still deeply imprinted in Aurelion's bones, just like the golden words engraved on his face. His physical appearance is the same.
What an abhorrent bigotry, Mortarion thought in disgust. The Word Bearers had destroyed the Imperial Truth's rejection of sorcery, and destroyed the Emperor's promise to him - the promise of firm control when this was all over. The future of warp sorcery. He polluted the pure essence of death and war.
He tilted his head, waiting for Horus's answer. If there was anyone else he could trust in the Istvan system - it was Horus Luperkar, the blood brother he initially trusted. In a world in turmoil, Horus was a rare immutable man. His eyes were as bright as before, and his abundant strength always supported that huge body, as if the serious injury he had suffered had not affected him at all.
More than ten minutes ago, Mortarion had informed the parties involved that the Emperor had ordered that the position of Warmaster be re-granted to Horus. Horus nodded happily and took over the responsibilities that were his.
The Shepherd God told him that power must be in the hands of those who can control the situation. This is an extremely arrogant truth and the right decision that must be implemented. Someone made a mistake, and maybe he still makes a mistake today. But the momentum must be kept going, no matter what they use as fuel.
Mortarion listened in silence.
Horus withdrew his hand from the holographic projection, threw off his cloak, turned around and strode back to his seat. Behind him, the flags of the Luna Wolves and the Imperial Skyhawk were still hanging on the command bridge of the Vengeful Spirit, and the gold threads in the embroidery were highlighted in the dim light behind.
Mortarion walked towards him under Horus's encouraging eyes, climbed the steps, and stood beside Horus.
The light was darker here, further away from the Luna Wolf and the Death Guard he had brought with him. He saw the sea-green armor blending with the undecorated white armor of his descendants. Some of them knew each other, and the low voices lingered around him like the fluttering wings of mosquitoes.
When the distance widened, he suddenly gained a strange perspective, as if he was standing in a higher place - far higher than the steps. Accompanying him was Horus Luperkar. After breaking away from the crowd, , the Wolf God's voice seemed to become lower and softer, further away from the others and closer to Mortarion.
Horus said calmly: "Mortarion, your arrival is a key to unlocking the situation. You can see how anxious our battlefield situation is, and if we continue to fight like this... you see, World Eater A counterattack has been launched.”
"You lack sufficient attack power, certainly not enough to overcome the Iron Warriors' tactical defenses, and to be held back for so long," Mortarion said, with a hint of satisfaction. "A war challenge befitting the Death Guard."
"In the assault mission, I will hand over the power of decision-making to you. You come to this battlefield from the outside world and look at it from a new perspective. Of course, your current vision must be clearer than ours." Wolf Shepherd God There is a convincing power in his voice.
Mortarion couldn't help but begin to imagine how his troops would be deployed at the forefront of the battle line, gathering all weapons, all heavy infantry, tanks, aircraft and artillery, exerting all their strength to exert heavy pressure, for the Iron Warriors... yes, for Iron Warrior brings a silence. Bring destruction and death.
…Why Iron Warriors? Mortarion lowered his eyes briefly, the sadness and confusion in his heart gathering like clouds, and was momentarily overshadowed by the anger of being betrayed.
Horus seemed unaware of his turbulent mood, or perhaps he was thoughtful enough not to reveal it.
He changed the topic, "I'm actually a little surprised, Mortarion, you asked me about many current situations, the Emperor's, Isstvan III's, Perturabo and Rogal Dorn's, and The Emperor's Children and the World Eaters. We have these rules of attack...I thank you for coming, did I forget to say that?"
"You have not forgotten." Mortarion emphasized out of some unique persistence.
Horus was startled, then naturally shook his head slightly and smiled: "Okay, then there is no forgetting. But you know what I want to ask you, Mortarion. If you want to hear my point of view, then tell me Otherwise, if you really don’t want to know, I won’t interfere with you. You have always had your own ideas and persistence.”
"Of course I'm not unwilling," Mortarion said. "There's nothing I can't hear."
"The heirs of Magnus took away my crescent moon and the lives of tens of thousands of my heirs. All their proud spiritual energy was poured into this civil war. No one will ever know that Magnus What exactly Nuth did that caused the Emperor's extreme wrath and clear judgment - no, I am afraid no one will know except Perturabo."
"Has Perturabo revealed anything to you, Horus?"
"He has only repeatedly revealed a truth, my brother," said Horus. "War destroys everything. Once we brought destruction to the thousands of forces in the galaxy who refused to surrender, and now this storm of destruction still rages The earth spreads, swallowing every wisp of air it comes close to, and we are the only ones left facing the storm.”
——
"I feel like I'm witnessing a spectacle, cousin," Eidolon said, his tone brisk.
"If you don't have enough drive to express your opinions without being asked, then don't distract us by opening your mouth." Lann said, sitting on the stone bench at the edge of the long hall, wiping it with a soft cloth Holding his pair of battle axes.
His commander, Sigismund, had just gone out to the West City to inspect the actual war situation, which may have included some personal fighting. Lan had to stay here and temporarily take his commander's place.
"You have such a bad temper, Imperial Fists," Lucius said with a smile, the scars on his face puckered like a faded blanket from over-washing.
"Like Rann said, we can express our views more directly, brothers." Vespasian said, and his relief made Rann breathe a sigh of relief.
Surrounded by a group of purple and gold Emperor's Children, Fafnir Lane only felt that the pressure on himself was increasing for no reason. Among them, the one who impressed him the most was their other senior general Vespasian. He admired the lord commander's attitude in talking to others.
"You want to say that the Word Bearers and the Death Guard fought side by side." Lann said, raising the battle ax and wiping the handle with some scratches.
His rough fingers touched a deep cut on it. Not long ago, he almost lost one of his fingers, and the battle left scars on his weapon.
"Isn't it amazing, cousin?" Eidolon said with regret, his eyes fixed on Lan, "The Death Guard who are most opposed to supernatural powers, and the Word Bearers who are smashing flaming stones at our gates. . Why? The Emperor's blessing is not witchcraft? Just like Mortarion's fortune-telling is not witchcraft?"
He laughed. Lan took a deep breath and stared at the knife marks on the weapon.
"It makes them more worthy opponents," Lucius said. "More powerful, and their respect and fall more meaningful."
The glorious honor in battle is indeed an irresistible temptation for the Astartes, Lann thought, but if a swordsman like Lucius is also pursuing it persistently, then all this will mean to Lann, It seems... no longer pure.
"What is more meaningful is to find out what they used in exchange for blessings. This does not comply with the laws of subspace operation." Lann said, "It all depends on the favor of the false emperor? Then the false emperor might as well just lower the sky fire," he Added accent to imitate Huaiyan In the exaggerated tone of the speaker, "Think of our father, the traitorous Primarch without honor, and the Astartes under his command who don't know right from wrong in the stinking ditch, but can still return astray to serve the cause." Where are the ashes?”
"I'm afraid it's because 'you can still get lost'?" Lucius tapped the hilt of the sword with his fingers, suddenly drew out his sword, and drew a bright sword light in the air. He pointed the tip of the sword towards the meditator, The intent was to point to the location of the battle where they last heard this broadcast.
Vespasian held Lucius's shoulders: "You will damage our machinery, Lucius."
He immediately turned around and asked Lan: "Is this the inference of your think tank?"
The Imperial Fists did have their own think tank, but Rogal Dorn was not keen on the tricks and cantrips of the Warp. Therefore, the think tank of the Seventh Legion does not have much reputation for actual combat among all legions, except that they do have a think tank library department.
"Hmm... I don't think so." Lann stopped what he was doing and said, "It belongs to the Thousand Sons."
"Of course, of course." Eidolon said, "I wish Amon will gain something. How does he plan to search? Will he go to the front line to meet every decision made by Horus in the sky?"
"You think I know about their Warp Sensitives?" Lann said. "But it's time for us to face Horus Luperkar's decision. Maybe Mortarion's. The focus of the entire front has shifted. The outer fortifications are being neutralized. If you don’t want to lose the honor of fighting when you are forced to retreat, then formulate a strategy to maintain the trenches..."
He deliberately added the personal title: "Dear officers."
"Your respect comes too late, but it doesn't matter." Eidolon nodded, and then said to Lucius: "And you, I think you must have some opinions on the failure of these teams in the battle, Lu Hughes."
Lucius understood immediately, and he pulled out the long sword that had just been hung back on his waist. He swore that he was about to lead a small conflict that must be won...
Lan blinked and returned to silence. Following Rogal Dorn's instructions, he did not say it rashly. It was not Amon who made the judgment, but other Thousand Sons warriors who came from afar and left in a hurry.
Azhak Ahriman and his secret circle of prodigal sons.
(End of chapter)