Emperor's Bane

Chapter 192 Intermission: Stone and Sword
stone:
For a long time, Roger-Donne rarely asked his genetic father for anything.

Or rather, he never did: beg, demand, or actively express desire for anything.

Those were pointless moves.

The lord of Inwitt has indeed what he wants: but desire is nothing compared to his duty, his mission, his task.

Ever since he first bowed his allegiance to the Emperor's Aquila, the proud leader of the Imperial Fist has held one firmest thought: claiming was never his right, nor his duty.

After all, what he got in this galaxy, what he got from his father, is enough:

Life, Legion, Duty, Expedition...

And the most important point: a magnificent big dream, a big dream that he can spend the rest of his life chasing and building: for the first time from the mouth of the emperor, he heard the Lord of Humanity's vision for the future and the galaxy. If the planning is good, he is willing to devote himself to it, whether it is as a warrior who was born and died, or an ordinary architect.

This is enough.

In his eyes, in Rogal-Dorn's eyes, the day the Lord of Mankind first set foot on the Sentinel, he had given the Invites all they needed for the rest of their lives.

He has already obtained what he is worth fighting for, what he is worth holding on to, and what he is worth shedding blood on. From that day on, all he needs to remember are the shortest and most indisputable words:
Rogg-Dorne, son of the Emperor, Primarch of the Seventh Legion, Son of the Seventh Return, strong and unyielding.

He has memorized them.

He's got them.

What else does he need?

He shouldn't be longing for anything...

Shouldn't have...

Couldn't have...

……

The fist hit the hardest cold wooden table, paused for a moment, and slowly turned into a pair of huge palms, wrapped in solid golden armor, without moving for a long time.

The lord of the Fist of the Empire with platinum short hair is staying in the widest command room of [Eternal Crusade]. He is standing beside his favorite command table, with his right hand on the ever-absolute On the cold and hard table.

It was a simple creation made from the root of the only tree that existed on Invite in the severe cold world. It was an office appliance that Dawn built for himself when he was a child to satisfy his body shape that was gradually different from ordinary people.

The lord of the Imperial Fists has taken from his home planet only a few beloved things: and this table, which remains always cold, is one of them. Its function is to stand here, to maintain the same frosty coldness as the harshest firmament of Inwitt.

When the storm brought by thinking swept over the chest of the lord of the Imperial Fist, making him unable to maintain sincerity and calmness, he needed the coldness here, and he needed the coldness from Invite, to make these precious coldness come back to life again. Back to him, back to his chest.

For example: now.

This is necessary, even Rogal Dorn will need the necessary means and help: he will never deny this, he will not over-trust and boast of his strength, after all, in front of the careers he needs to complete, The might of a Primarch is also often trivial.

The Primarch of the Seventh Legion closed his eyes, and his right palm simply touched the cold that could freeze ordinary people, patiently waiting for his chaotic heart and mind to return to calm again.

reason.

In his mind, he said to himself.

Rational, honest, calm, unyielding.

He needs these: whenever and wherever he needs them.

He is Dorne, Son of the Emperor, Primarch of the Seventh Legion, Son of the Seventh Returning... strong and unyielding.

Heavy breathing took place again and again under the golden armor, Dawn just closed his eyes tightly, allowing him to spend every moment in the simplest breathing like a stone statue without thinking.

It didn't take long.

The Imperial Fist opened his eyes when the blazing heat in his palm began to bite back against the perpetual sleepless ice and snow.

Now, recap.

Don said to himself.

Repeat the facts: don't pause, and don't lie.

He will never lie: even the so-called good intentions, even to himself, even the silent words in his heart.

never.

Now, let's get started.

He is Roger - Donne.

Commander of the Emperor's Seventh Legion.

He's about to have a remote conversation with his father, right here.

In the conversation, he would hope that the Emperor would allow the Imperial Fist to retain some of the No.11 Legion's warriors.

It's not his job, and it's not what he's supposed to do.

In terms of responsibility, this matter has nothing to do with him.

By order, he should not make any pleas for these warriors, nor should he bother the Emperor for it.

But he... still does it.

……Yes.

He will do it.

Don blinked his eyes, he took a few steps forward, and came to that wall: it was a song of remembrance of past experiences, and every sonorous and powerful logo meant an undoubted victory , some are the results of the Imperial Fists alone, and some of the signs above the Seventh Legion and other legions complement each other, which is a symbol of joint operations.

The wolf under the moon, the imperial sky eagle, the holy blood, the fire dragon of mercy...

And that... Iron Eagle.

It is the most widely distributed symbol after the Fist of the Empire: an iron-gray eagle with steel-like tough lines and solemn majesty, which is the symbol and symbol of the No.11 Legion.

It was a symbol of Dorn's trust.

The lord of the Imperial Fist stared at the birds of prey that symbolized victory, and after a while, he finally stretched out his hand.

One, two, three...

The eagle fell, leaving those too abrupt gaps, Donne quietly looked at those disharmonious places, silent, but did not really erase them, but let those abrupt gaps remain in the two places. On the only memory of the two legions fighting side by side.

He held those steel eagles, squeezed his fingers heavily, and slowly twirled these flamboyant steel into a ball.

Heydrich...

He whispered softly in his heart.

He had trusted him, Lord of the Imperial Fist, had trusted the blond beast.

No one knows when this trust was born: perhaps, it was a joint battle full of silent and tacit understanding, perhaps, it was watching the undefeated No.11 Primarch patiently describe a battle without the slightest A nifty tactic of showing off and delaying.

Or maybe, when Dorn mercilessly pointed out a mistake Heydrich made in front of several Primarchs, the blond beast pondered seriously for a moment, then nodded sincerely, expressing thanks, And never made that mistake again.

Maybe it's this, maybe it's that, maybe it's the two Legions, the two Primarchs, in the thinnest interaction and the most serious communication, the countless worlds and kingdoms conquered side by side, the countless dangers and dangers passed side by side ordeal.

In short, Dorn would never deny this: before their breakup, he did trust the blond beast, trusting his coldness, reason and humility.

Until they received different missions and orders, separated among the stars, and fought fiercely for decades, until they met again and again in a mission, the unprecedented silence has enveloped the No.11 Legion.

Until he saw, in Heydrich's golden pupils, a rationality that was different from ever before: no, that was not rationality and calmness, it was a raging fire sealed by ice.

He had thought he was wrong, he had thought the long war had clouded his judgment and perception: sadly, he hadn't misread anything.

He needs to face reality: Heydrich, whom he trusted, is gone.

Disappeared in the so-called high-efficiency orders full of massacres and exterminations, disappeared in the words that are like gravel to the heirs and civilians.

Disappeared... When those soldiers of the No.11 Legion who refused to give up to rescue the people were gathered in a world by him, that command to fire without hesitation.

……

The former Heydrich disappeared, completely disappeared.

But Roger-Dorne, no.

The ear-piercing sound of metal rubbing and firing filled the command room of the entire battleship, and even the most elite guards of the two legions did not react: when those No. When ordering, a huge golden whirlwind swept everyone's field of vision.

All the communicators in the hands of the warriors were destroyed, and the Primarch of the Imperial Fist held the last communicator tightly: it was being held tightly in the hand of the golden-haired beast.

Surprise spread throughout the room. When the soldiers of the two legions hurriedly drew their weapons and confronted each other after being dazed, the two primarchs had already completed their communication in silent eyes.

Until now, Dorn remembered Heydrich's last sentence, his only sentence: it was a sentence mixed with desolate laughter.

"Are you sure?"

He was laughing, ironically, both at Don and at himself.

The Imperial Fist didn't know how to respond to the sarcastic laugh, maybe he should have told a white lie, maybe he should have uttered something stalling: if it was any other Primarch, they would.

But he is Don.

He didn't hesitate for a second.

……

"of course."

……

Finally, he brought back those warriors.

To this day, he can't believe he did it: but he's pretty sure that if it happened again, he'd do it again.

He gave them arms, he gave them lodgings, he gave them tasks, he saw them as a large friendly army: he didn't want to talk to them, because even Dorne didn't want to face them. The pupils of warriors abandoned by the Primarch.

He made a point of forgetting them: for a while, he did.

Until the beginning and end of Randan War.

until today.

Don closed his eyes, but opened them soon after.

It was not long before the time he agreed to talk to the emperor. The Imperial Fist adjusted his face and slowly came to the front of the projector. Uncommonly, his Adam's apple was rolling up and down.

repeat.

he said to himself.

He will speak to the Emperor.

He will send a request to the Emperor: he will ask the Emperor to allow him to take in those warriors of the No. 11 Legion.

He would promise, he would promise, he would be sure that they were an equally noble group of warriors, a group of heroes who should not be weighed down by the Primarch's mistakes.

They deserved to exist, they deserved to fight, and they deserved to die with honor.

That was his request, his only request, a request he would follow through.

This is offensive, this is crossing the line, this is everything he should not care about, this is a violation of the emperor's order, this is words that will attract anger and hostility, this is what will make him and Guilliman and others ambitious The harbinger of juxtaposition...

It's the worst thing ever.

But he won't give up.

……

He is Don.

Children of the Emperor, Primarch of the Seventh Legion, Son of the Seventh Returning...

Unyielding.

------

sword:
The master of the Dark Angels watched Horus and Morgan gradually move away towards the temporarily piled up hill.

The Second Legion was coming, and soon they would reunite with their Primarch beneath the hills.

His two blood relatives had gone a little far, but the lion king didn't choose to follow up immediately, he stopped, because the same was true of the human master behind him.

The Emperor had something to say to Jonson: the Primarch of the First Order could feel it, because he too had been waiting for this conversation.

The lion turned around, and he stood solemnly on the spot, waiting for his lord, the silent king under the black hood.

The emperor came very quickly, within a short time, he was already standing in front of Jonson, his eyes were hidden under the hood, and his tone was flat.

[We haven't met and talked for a while, the war with Ran Dan consumed all the energy of you and the First Legion. 】

"It's your job, father."

Zhuang Sen's salute shows his submission to the Lord of Mankind: his conversations with the emperor are often not long or intimate, but only the shortest and most important communication between the king and his subjects.

Issue orders, complete orders, and generally, nothing more.

Even the terrible secrets of the Knight-Kings of Caliban, delivered to Caliban by the Lords of Men, were never the subject of conversation: in fact, they always avoided mentioning them.

When dealing with these most deadly topics, the Emperor and Jonson will use another method: silent giving and receiving, this simple method is enough to entrust thousands of words.

The emperor nodded, he was always satisfied with Jonson's attitude, which was the most important reason why he handed over to the First Legion with confidence.

[Now, the war with Ran Dan has ended in a certain sense, and what their remnants and defeated soldiers can only get is merciless massacre and extermination. Even so, I still hope that you can remain vigilant, Johnson. 】

"I will, father."

The lord of humanity nodded.

[Perhaps in the future, I will find your legion again and give you a new mission: that mission will have something to do with Ran Dan. We haven’t found the home planet of the Alien Empire yet, but when we The moment you find it, you need to end everything about them. 】

"Standby."

[More than that, maybe at that time, I will order you to complete other tasks, some tasks that you need to complete with Leman Russ: Right now, I don’t want to reveal more details, but when the time comes, I will Telling it to you, I hope you will be ready for any situation. 】

[As we said when we first met, I need your sword, your sword without hesitation, no matter what...thing you want to cut at. 】

"I will always remember, Father, that I will kill whatever you point to."

These impeccable words made the lord of mankind silent for a while, his eyes came from under the hood, and looked at the ferocious marks on Zhuang Sen's armor that had not been replaced, which was left by Ran Dan Scars and Glory.

The Emperor hesitated for a moment, hesitating to bring up the subject, the subject of help that might offend and sadden his knights.

And just as the human lord kept silent, an imperceptible drop of sweat also slowly slid down from Zhuang Sen's temples and dripped into the armor.

The Emperor is silent.

What is he silent about?
Is that hesitation?
Is that a disappointment?
Was it disappointment at the defeat of the Turks, the defeat of the First Legion, and the retreat of Jonson?

At the first moment, Jonson thought of this terrible possibility: after all, the moment he opened his eyes, the moment he heard that the Emperor had killed Emperor Randan, apart from some The anger that came, lingering in the lion's heart, is a kind of grief: a kind of grief that failed to complete the task.

He failed, he did not defend the Turks forged with blood, this is undoubtedly his failure: Ran Dan's power, the purpose of the strategy, or the birth of the alien emperor and the engine of fate, in Zhuang Sen's eyes were full of pale excuses.

In many cases, the lion's vision is not so broad. He can only see the exquisite tactics, but not the strategy that can span the galaxy and the universe.

Now, that's it.

No matter what happened on the battlefield, no matter what was decided strategically, no matter the reality that the Turks were hard to defend, in Jonson's eyes, none of these were important.

He failed, that's all.

He had promised the Emperor, but he had not kept that promise.

This reality disturbed the Lord of the Dark Angels from the moment he awoke in the light of the Lord of Men.

Therefore, when the silence of the lord of mankind appeared, this uneasiness hit Jonson's heart as it should.

Until he heard the words of the Emperor.

[You have accomplished an incomparably great cause, Zhuang Sen, apart from being proud, I cannot give you a better evaluation of what you have done in the Randan War. 】

The Emperor's approval was low and sincere, but in the heart of the bowed Jon Sen, it was even more painful than the most violent accusation: his father was comforting him against his will, what a sad scene! .

[But, I also know, Johnson. 】

[The First Legion has paid too much. This is not a scar that can be repaired by a one-time replenishment and rest: it is permanent. 】

coming.

Jonson's face was dominated by gloom.

The legion that was victorious and defeated, the general who was victorious and defeated, no longer received that kind of trust, the kind of trust that was enough to entrust the empire.

[Your casualties are too great, my knight, this is an indisputable fact. 】

In the shadows, Jonson clenched his fists tightly.

Yes, casualties.

Disappointing casualties, casualties that made his brothers shake their heads secretly: after witnessing the sacrifice of the First Legion, any one would doubt Jonson's ability, would doubt whether he could continue to lead the Dark Angels, whether he could carry more Many responsibilities and missions.

Doubts, disappointments, and more...

No.

He never intended to sit still like this.

[So, I think, maybe it's time to think about it, so that you can fight side by side with other people...]

"No! Father!"

"I do not need!"

The most resolute words cut off the Emperor's slow bass, and the Lord of Humanity looked at the firmness of the lion's face with some surprise, and he was silent for a while before speaking slowly.

【Are you sure, Johnson? 】

"Yes."

Without the slightest hesitation.

"The First Legion still has the power to wash away the shame and fight for you. Our strength and determination are enough to face everything in this galaxy alone. We are still the sharp blade in the dark and can be trusted by you , to slaughter everything."

Zhuang Sen's face was so serious that no one could refute it. The Lord of Humanity glanced at his most reliable heir and hesitated.

[You know very well, Zhuang Sen, what the First Legion paid in the war, I think, you really need help, you need a reason to fight side by side with others: even if it is only for the shortest period of time. 】

"No, father."

In the eyes of the lion, there is a light like a raging torch: neither he nor the dark angels have fallen to the point of reporting to the regiment for warmth like his brothers. The unique responsibility and mission are the only glory and glory of the First Legion. Bottom line: He must not throw away.

"I'll take care of everything. There won't be any changes to the First Legion."

"Ran Dan did not break us, we are consistent, without secrets and decadence."

"We don't need any changes."

"We are still the Dark Angels, we are still the First Legion."

【…】

【Are you sure, my son? 】

"Of course, father."

【…】

【All right. 】

The lord of mankind sighed, and in his sigh, Zhuang Sen actually felt an inexplicable sense of loss and uneasiness.

The emperor nodded and did not continue the topic. Since Zhuang Sen was so persistent, he could only think of a way.

He could only think about where he was going to send his only daughter and the Second Legion.

But obviously, that answer won't be Dark Angels.

(End of this chapter)