Chapter 702: The Seeds of the Great Rebellion
Hearing the ominous words from the Primarch of the Eleventh Legion, Malcador's shoulders relaxed.
“I know, this is very unfair to you.”
The person holding the seal raised his hand.
“Come on, take a walk with me, an old man.”
They continued walking along the wall, looking out across the Himalayan plains.
There, to the south, the great spiers of the black office buildings were visible just above the dark horizon, just beyond the light of the spaceport.
Then the printmaker stopped.
"Xerxes, do you regret it? If you want to quit now, you can stop immediately. I will explain it to the emperor in the future."
The original body grinned. .
"O Seal Bearer, you are always trying to...get a hold of the truth."
"I think if these past years have taught us anything, it's that ignorance can still hurt us most profoundly, and denial Its harm will only lead to more mountains of swords and seas of fire. The saying is that the less it is, the more it will lead to failure. "
The original body nodded.
"Be cautious and reticent, so that others will forget the truth. This feels a lot like you, Master Seal Holder, and also like my father."
"But I also know very well that I will always , Never underestimate the damage that a seemingly reasonable truth can do. The secret of stability is knowing which truths to bury, which records to burn, which announcements to deny, and promote falsehoods to anyone who opposes you. Yes
In the way of a foolish demagogue, the slightest inconsistency is as sensible as the pinch of salt in the porridge, which makes the whole meal easier to swallow. "
Xerxes chuckled several times.
"So I have always said that I never regret, even if it will make me and my legion doomed, but I choose to believe you , and also believed in my father. "
Speaking, the original body turned around and put his hands on the guardrail, looking at the distant horizon, feeling lost.
"Palmmaker, you said that if I die one day, my father will give me Do I leave even a statue behind? ”
"Your father shaped you into immortal beings, but you are too sentimental."
"Ha."
The original body chuckled first, and then sighed for a long time.
“The Milky Way is trillions of years old, and there is no one who is immortal.”
“Alas, you——”
Suddenly, the original body turned his head and looked at Malcador with a serious expression.
“Master of the Seal, if one day I really die because of our plan, you must pay attention to Horus, because he will definitely be full of resentment and resentment, and he will take revenge, no matter what form it is. It’s hard to know, but he will definitely take action.”
Makado lowered his eyes and remained silent.
In an instant, many pictures were shattered, and the world was also shattered, but it was immediately reorganized at a faster speed.
Bang!
The door to the hall was thrown open with such force and fury that even the burly attendants flinched.
"Palmmaker!"
A giant roared and strode forward, his footsteps sounding like armored thunder, and the black wolf skin floated as he moved - this is Sixteen The most notable feature of Horus, the Primarch of the Legion's Luna Wolves.
"You'd better explain!"
Several of the assembled lords and bureaucrats immediately jumped from their positions around the debate table, the primarch's fury being enough to frighten almost any mortal. To confess in tears.
However, Malcador still sat on his tall wooden throne, staring calmly.
"Alfaris, you did it, I guess."
The Lord of the Alpha Legion walked beside Horus, and the gorgeous blue ceremonial armor was radiating brilliance. , the original member of the Twentieth Legion did not answer, but sneered at the officers who retreated from their posts on both sides of the door - they were the only armed personnel in the room, and the thought of raising their locked laser rifles never occurred to them. passed their minds.
Ignoring everything, Horus walked to the far end of the round table, the wolfskin hanging from his huge ceramic pauldrons hanging down as the primarch raised an accusing finger.
“Dear uncle, you have to give me an explanation.”
Suddenly, there were shouts in the corridor outside the hall. More warriors in armor were approaching, and several golden shield holders were coming into view.
They stopped in the doorway, surveying the room with mild confusion.
"Lord Regent," one of them called, eyeing the three Primarchs warily, one hand on the end of the hilt of his sword.
“Do you need our help?”
Malcador's fingers tapped on the smooth table, never moving away from Horus' cold gaze.
"No, there's nothing I can't handle here. Thank you for your diligence and care. You can go back to duty."
The Imperial Guard raised an eyebrow and nodded slowly.
"As you wish,"
he whispered, gesturing out to several courtiers who were clearly more embarrassed.
The others seized the opportunity as well, and the hall soon cleared, before Malcador shot the third Primarch a pointed glare.
The Khan, primarch of the White Scars, bowed his head respectfully in response, then walked in a wide circle around the edge of the low-ceilinged hall, then closed all the doors behind him.
"Same to you, Jaghatai?"
Malcador sighed and wrinkled his lips.
"What made you rush to the Throne World so quickly, even when even the Astropaths couldn't contact your expeditionary force when we needed it?"
"My brothers call and I answer."
The Khan replied in his slightly accented Gothic, leaning nonchalantly against a marble column.
"That's how you made us, isn't it?"
Their conversation was later interrupted by an impatient snarl from Horus, the Primarch gnashing his teeth.
"Now, you have to answer me, Sealbearer! I won't ask you a second time."
"I guess."
Malcador replied tiredly.
“You mean the work being done by the Masons’ Guild in the Square of Heroes?”
Horus glared at him.
"You know what I mean! It's an insult! You think we, my other brothers and I, are going to let this go into obscurity? You've overstepped your authority, old man, you can't just... erase it. History, if my father heard about this, he would——"
"What makes you think that the Emperor doesn't know about this?"
Malcador interrupted the other party. No mortal would dare to interrupt a primarch.
"Just because the order was not given by Him himself, I cannot act as His loyal servant?"
Horus shook his head, an annoyed smile appearing at the corner of his mouth.
"Please don't lie to my face. You and your co-conspirators are taking great pains to hide this from the War Council and the rest of the Empire. These orders have no Aquila or the Seal of the Throne." .”
Then the Primarch of the Sixteenth Legion grasped the edge of the table with his iron-fisted hands and leaned on it in boredom, the ancient mahogany wood creaking under the weight.
"Then tell me, convince me, what right do you have to try to remove one of the twenty great statues in the Place of Heroes! You want to erase my beloved brother? This is a monument to our great achievements, And he is also a symbol of inspiration for all mankind, and he has a share in this glory, no matter what he has done!”
Makado suddenly stood up from his seat.
"Glory?"
The palm print maker gave a bitter chuckle. Those words stung him more deeply than everyone present thought, but he could not show it.
"I never realized-"
While Soshyan was staring at this scene, an old voice suddenly sounded in his ears, and he turned his head, startled.
The person holding the seal was actually standing next to him, and he seemed to be staring at the scene at this moment.
Then he let out a sigh from his dry lips.
“The seeds of rebellion actually took root and sprouted at this moment. Horus’s hatred for me became a poisonous thorn in his heart, and turned into hatred for his father, which was eventually used by the evil god.”
(End of this chapter)