Emperor's Bane

Chapter 551: Immortal, but a Social Animal

"Mr. Olperson, why did you join Avalon?"

"Does this bother you, little girl?"

"……A little."

As they spent about half a Terra standard hour waiting for the crowd in the square to gradually disperse, and followed the shadows of the last group of confused people, moving forward in silence, passing through the famous Topfit Gate and vaguely seeing the spire of the apartment building, Orpesson's little travel companion finally couldn't suppress the exuberant curiosity under his eight-year-old skin.

Compared to her peers, Cyrene was undoubtedly precocious. The death of her parents and the long period of living alone made her grow up at a very fast speed. She tried her best to imitate every adult she saw to make up for the absence of elders in her life: this can be seen from the fact that Cyrene was able to suppress the doubts in her heart for more than an hour and tried to remain calm when asked.

If it were adults who were mediocre and stupid, or who were full of contempt for children, they might really be deceived by this dullness, but Olpersson was different: although he never considered himself a genius, as an immortal, he had seen and experienced everything after all.

What's more, in the countless long years in the past, Olpersson had had a family and even children more than once, although his specific appearance and even names had long been forgotten by him: it was not that he did not want to remember, but his limited brain and mental strength could not really resist the erosion of time.

This cruel world gave Orpesson endless life, but did not give him the corresponding physical strength, intelligence or even willpower: as an immortal, not only did he not remember everything in the past tens of thousands of years, he had almost forgotten even the people and events from a hundred years ago.

Don't think that all Eternals are monsters like the Emperor or the Sigillite. In fact, those two monsters should not be categorized as Eternals at all. They should be classified as another race, a mutant class that is enough to make the Eternals feel afraid: Orpesson understood this very early, and this was one of the reasons why he finally decided to leave the Emperor.

They are not on the same path after all.

To this day, this decision still makes Orpersun feel mixed emotions. It's not that he and the Emperor have no feelings for each other. On the contrary, the Lord of Mankind has the longest, most unforgettable and strongest friendship with him.

They met in Nineveh, the capital of the Assyrian Empire, the first military empire of mankind, eight thousand years before Jesus came to the world. It was the oldest thing that Orperson could remember so far.

He could never forget that moment: the Emperor was the first Eternal he had ever met, and the Emperor was also his anointed witness, the Lord of Mankind witnessing Orpesson become a believer, and they walked side by side in the years that followed, accomplishing many remarkable things together, until the gears of fate ruthlessly crushed their two paths and reorganized them into non-intersecting lines.

Compared with the years they had experienced and the friendships they had formed over the years, both the Great Crusade and the Primarchs who had been active in it were like punctuation marks in a classic, so small that they were insignificant.

Of course, Orperson felt that the Emperor would not think so: compared to the years of cooperation and moving forward side by side, the arrogant guy should be more obsessed with the present, the Great Crusade that he launched and controlled at will, and the many descendants who respected him like a god.

Neos was like this when they first met.

As for what happened before he met the Emperor, even Orpesson had long forgotten it. He vaguely remembered that a long, long time ago, he seemed to have become a member of an adventure group, boarding a ship called Argo, and experienced a journey that later generations saw as just a myth: but he could not remember more details and the final outcome.

In fact, if he had not accidentally heard during his service in Avalon that the Spider Queen named her latest star maiden "Atalanta", he would probably have completely forgotten about it: just like he forgot the name of his last wife before he joined the Great Crusade. He just kept the cross she gave him.

(It is well documented that Orpesson first met the Emperor in 8,000 BC and became a believer, although I cannot understand why the Eternal would become a believer, and I am not sure whether he participated in the Argonautics, but in mythology, Atalanta was indeed a member of the Argonautics.)
As for why he was working under the Lord of Avalon...

"Ah……"

Olperson smiled, glanced at Cyrene who was secretly looking at him, and after making sure that he could take care of the girl, he turned his head to look at the road conditions ahead.

They were still a few minutes away from the apartment building of their destination. As it was not on the main road, there were not many people around: the residents were packing their bags in their homes or gathered in the shadows whispering. The only two Dawnbreakers and dozens of mortal soldiers of Avalon standing in a conspicuous place. When they saw Orpesson, they simply nodded to this comrade as a greeting.

"Do you want to know why I chose to join Avalon's army?"

Olperson returned the greeting and asked Cyrene without turning his head.

"I just want to know: why do you all like that Avalon so much?"

Cyrene no longer concealed her confusion and depression: She didn't understand why these people wanted to leave the flawless and perfect city and go to another corner of the world? And they decided to leave before the Emperor asked them to leave?

Isn't their perfect city the greatest city in the world? Even the Emperor has affirmed its value!
"us?"

This question made Olpersson raise his eyebrows, but he didn't care.

"I don't know about others, but if you ask me, the reason is very simple."

"Because Avalon has better benefits, I stayed here for two more years."

"Welfare?"

Cyrene chewed on the word, which was still a little too far for her.

"Yes, welfare."

Olpersong nodded.

"To put it in terms you can understand: they pay more, provide better daily security and infrastructure, provide more generous material rewards after retirement, and the reward and punishment system and promotion system are more open and transparent. As long as you work hard, you won't be treated unfairly."

“It takes tens of thousands of years for humans to figure this out.”

"For example, I joined the mortal army of Avalon twelve years ago. I am not a native of Avalon, nor do I have any connections in the Dawnbreaker Legion. But despite this, with my expertise and military achievements over the years, I have become a member of the Avalon Guard and served as a low-ranking technical officer in the Royal Guard."

"If you can't understand what this position symbolizes: in terms of actual treatment, even the governors of the Far Eastern frontiers must show me enough respect because I come from a more important class."

"Only those who have undergone surgical transformation and the Astartes warriors are above my level. As for personal treatment, even those who are from the Dawnbreakers treat me as an equal. In projects that are in line with my expertise, I even command those Astartes."

"Although I don't manage people, the conditions are good, the work is easy, and the pay is good. If I continue to serve for 28 years and make corresponding contributions during this period, I can even serve as an official or consultant in the newly developed colonial world of Avalon. You can also understand me as the administrator of your city."

"Is that so?"

Cyrene nodded: with her current knowledge, she could only understand the last sentence.

"So, if they let you be an official, you will serve them?"

"That's about right. Many of my comrades do hold this view."

Olperson pouted.

What Cyrene said was not wrong. Most of the best comrades around Orpesson held this idea: these people often came from poor backgrounds, and a considerable number of them even came from the lower-level hives, but they relied on their own excellent abilities and ruthlessness to seize the opportunity leaked from Morgan's fingertips and climbed to their current positions.

The immortals can understand their madness. After all, the Far Eastern frontier is currently at a rare historical turning point.

You know, Morgan's kingdom is not like Guilliman's Five Hundred Worlds. It was not established by the united alliance of various worlds, but a huge kingdom forcibly combined by the Dawnbreaker Legion through conquest with blood and fire: although there are many political dramas and compromises of interests, one thing is beyond doubt.

The Far Eastern Frontier is an unprecedented political entity created in the eastern part of the galaxy, and this political entity has not had any systematic rent-seeking class since its establishment: according to the historical inertia of mankind, this position originally belonged to the Dawnbreakers, but the Astartes obviously will not occupy more resources.

And those imperial governors who surrendered to Morgan one after another, under the deliberate suppression of the Primarch, could not form the initial top-level structure of Avalon, so the overwhelming wealth was placed in front of the mortal elites of her generation by the Spider Queen.

The hereditary rule over countless worlds, the wealth and status across the universe, the blessings enough to take care of relatives for thousands of years, and the top-level structure in the Far Eastern frontier that has not yet been touched by anyone are enough to drive every mortal elite who swears allegiance to the Spider Queen crazy.

Not to mention, the newly born Great Avalon has been constantly devouring its own food in the East with a savage expansionist attitude. Although more than sixty years have passed since its establishment, there are still huge interests waiting to be reaped: and in these sixty years, Morgan's elites have also suffered large-scale losses.

The most typical example is the Lost Crusade when Avalon was just established. In the support of the Dark Angels, Morgan's mortal army suffered heavy losses. If we look at the proportion alone, the damage caused by this several-year expedition to Avalon's mortal auxiliary army is even greater than the sum of all the interstellar wars in the following sixty years.

But such heavy losses are not without benefits: a considerable number of Morgan's most capable mortal troops have experienced that expedition and escaped unscathed from the purgatory-like battlefield. Although they have forgotten who they were fighting against, the instincts in their bones still remain.

The courage displayed by this part of mortal troops on the battlefield could even impress the Space Wolves and Blood Angels. No matter they were facing the overwhelming green tide or the twisted monsters that gave the Astartes a headache, they were always able to maintain high morale: because in their instinctive will, they knew that they had faced something even more terrible, and they had returned alive from that battlefield.

Since you have succeeded the first time, the second time will not be daunting.

Orperson even envied his battle brothers a little: as an out-and-out fan of famous battlefield punch-in, he regretted that he had missed perhaps the most legendary battlefield in the entire Great Crusade.

In this case, even if he was a commoner living in the lower hive of Avalon, if he was talented enough, hardworking, and willing to sacrifice his life for the cause of the Lord of Avalon, he could create a noble family that could last for thousands of years and rule a world or even a galaxy in one generation, and bless thousands of descendants behind him.

This is not a beautiful fantasy, but a realistic fairy tale that has been realized countless times throughout the Far East frontier: Morgan has at least thousands of [Officer Families] who have risen like this.

Not expecting this, Orpesson could not help but feel lucky that he was an immortal who did not need to worry about his descendants, and for him, serving for a few more decades and then owning a fertile valley or estate on a beautiful emerging colonial world was all he had planned for the next hundred years of his life.

Of course, he could also make more meritorious contributions as appropriate, because those warriors with better performance would be assigned to a better world: and if they were willing to give up power and be content to be a traditional military family affiliated with the Dawnbreaker Legion, they could even be assigned to several star regions around the Avalon galaxy and become Morgan's real base.

But Orpesson was not interested in this. Compared with living in Avalon, he preferred the emerging colony of Caerleon in the Hull galaxy on the west side of the Far Eastern Frontier: this name was chosen by the Spider Queen herself, telling of the glorious future of this new colonial world.

It will serve as the core world of the entire Far Eastern Frontier, as an important hub between Greater Avalon and the Empire, and as a trade hub that is visible to the naked eye and is about to rise. It will exist forever in the galaxy: Morgan once described it as [Caus of Avalon.]

...Tsk...Cos...

Olperson smacked his lips, the expression on his face becoming a little unpleasant, and he couldn't help but quicken his pace, but he still tried his best to take care of Cyrene who was trying to keep up with him: After sending the little girl home, the Immortal stood cautiously at her door, waiting for Cyrene to pack her few bags.

The little girl obviously had no reason to stay in the city, and it seemed that she was looking forward to witnessing the encounter between the Emperor and the Word Bearers Legion. Naturally, she wanted to vie for the first position to leave the city: the Immortal, who had lived for countless years, could understand all this without Cyrene even having to speak up. While he still had some time to rest, Orpesson didn't mind going there in person to send Cyrene to his trusted colleagues outside the city.

During this period, he couldn't help but think of Kos again: There was no way, just a dozen years ago, the name of this world had appeared in his mind countless times. After all, Kos and the Five Hundred Worlds were the hundred-year destination that Orpesson had chosen for himself at the beginning.

As for why he changed ships halfway on his way to Ultramar to join the army and instead headed for Avalon: the welfare he mentioned to the little girl was naturally one of the reasons, but the other reason was not easy to say.

Olperson turned his head and looked at the glittering golden minarets outside the window.

faith.

He sighed.

Faith is another reason: Although the Five Hundred Worlds also maintain a tacit attitude towards the religious issues of their residents, and the government will not investigate unless the people report it, Avalon is obviously more relaxed in this regard. They have actually written religious freedom into national policy, and among the mortal auxiliary group under Morgan, they do not prohibit healthy personal beliefs.

On the ship to Macragge, although people expressed understanding of Orpesson's beliefs, they never stopped mocking, questioning, or looking at him as an alien. On Avalon, "a believer" was just a label people used to identify Orpesson.

Compared to the Titan captains who collectively praised the goddess of hunting before the battle, painted their own divine machines, and the senior officers who placed statues of Morgan in their respective strategy rooms and next to the sand table, the cross on Orperson's chest was too inconspicuous. A Dawnbreaker even asked him, from which world did he buy this souvenir?
In comparison, although the objective conditions of the Five Hundred Worlds were better than those of Avalon: Ultramar was a fertile land that had been reclaimed by Guilliman, while the Far Eastern Frontier still had some of the wildness of the expansion era, Orpesson ultimately chose the latter.

However, this was not the reason why he came to the Perfect City on his own initiative: if he knew that the destination of this business trip was the Perfect City, and that there was a Lord of Humanity floating in the sky above this city, he would have called in sick leave long ago.

He didn't want to see his old friend. After all, so many years had passed. Who knew what the paranoid man had become? Maybe he was working with some twisted things that he couldn't name, which he considered "safe", and then created a bunch of creepy and terrifying creations. Orperson didn't completely wrong the Emperor for thinking this way. No one knew the stubborn golden bastard better than him. Let's not talk about anything else. Let's talk about his current boss, Morgan, known as the Spider Woman: Just from the skills, temperament, agility, and extremely normal logical thinking shown by the only female Primarch on weekdays, as well as her shamelessness of saying one thing to one person and another to another in the sky above the Perfect City...

Orperson would never believe that she was created by the Emperor alone.

The emperor doesn't have that ability, you know.

He must have been working with someone, perhaps those strange energy entities in the subspace, or perhaps other dangerous realms and gods: the Lord of Mankind never minds playing with fire and getting burned in these horrible places, and he created a bunch of twisted freaks.

Madmen, warmongers, fools, greedy politicians, and believers...

"..."

Olperson took a deep breath through his nose.

Believer... huh...

He clutched the cross on his chest and looked out the window again at the hustle and bustle: the first group of residents who wanted to move out of the Perfect City were already waiting on the streets for inspection and arrangements by the Dawnbreakers and mortal warriors, while Guilliman's descendants were standing further away, doing the rest of the auxiliary work. Their experience in such large-scale evacuations was obviously not as good as their silver-armored relatives.

At least in Olpersson's opinion, the Dawnbreakers' skills in managing and comforting these mortals can be called an art: even in the memories of the Immortals, there are very few powerful military organizations that can be like them. In less than ten minutes, a few Dawnbreakers and hundreds of mortal soldiers were able to organize the tens of thousands of people who blocked several streets in an orderly and meticulous manner.

These demigod soldiers were like skilled shepherds, classifying the scattered crowd in a simple way, allowing them to leave in the most basic order and head to the next checkpoint, where they would face a more detailed classification: there were more than a dozen checkpoints like this, and after the crowd finally walked out of the Perfect City, they would be divided into more than a dozen separate small teams that were easier to be transported collectively.

Like an assembly line.

Or... a concentration camp?

Thinking of some bad words, Orperson narrowed his eyes: in his impression, other Astartes Legions, such as the Ultramarines standing on both sides, performing guarding and maintaining order, might also be able to do this, but few of the Emperor's angels would have such patience with mortals.

And experience.

"She's really not like him."

The Immortal sighed.

"Nios would probably care about these ignorant people walking in the mortal world, but he would never do things so meticulously: he would care about their overall fate, but he would never care about how to manage these small things, such as sending confidants to evacuate the masses. She definitely didn't learn these from Neos."

"Then, where will it be from..."

Olpersong muttered.

Then, he suddenly thought for no reason what kind of scene would occur if the imperial guards came to evacuate these believers: just a moment of fantasy in his mind made the Immortal unable to stop laughing.

“That’s totally not the case…”

He began to hesitate whether to meet the Queen of Avalon: all along, in order to prevent the master of the soul realm from being aware of his difference as an immortal, Orpesson had never even been to the Aurora. He controlled his own achievements accurately to ensure that he was always in an inconspicuous but comfortable position.

But now, it might be a better idea to meet with the Lord of Avalon: he had not received the latest intelligence about Neos for too long. Although he did not care what the Emperor was trying to do, if Neos really messed up something, then he, Orpesson, would most likely be affected.

There was no way. If it was tens of thousands of years ago, when Neos' ambition was just to build a tower to the sky, Orpesson could have stayed away, but who could blame him for the current situation? It would be safer to understand the situation clearly.

not to mention.

Looking at the Dawnbreakers who were walking around in the crowd and constantly maintaining order, a hint of amusement flashed across the Eternal's face: Although in various propaganda, the Spider Queen always portrayed herself as a follower of the Emperor, there were some things that Orpesson could guess almost exactly even if he hadn't seen them with his own eyes.

Based on Morgan's current actions and his understanding of Neos, Orperson can at least be sure of one thing: that is, no matter what the external propaganda says, the compatibility of this father and daughter is definitely not very good. Maybe they will be a good pair, but he does not believe how much loyalty Morgan will have to the Emperor.

I'm afraid that this time, all the work related to Perfect City was forced upon me.

In this way, she could help and conceal her whereabouts.

Even if it's just temporary.

"..."

Never mind. Don't think too much about it.

Orperson shook his head and laughed at his own arrogance in his heart. He never thought of himself as a great man, and he never had any lofty goals: to be able to live a comfortable life for decades on a stable piece of land, facing the earth and back to the sky, is his biggest dream as an immortal.

Perhaps to these primarchs, it was no different from a joke.

As usual, Orpesson stroked the cross on his chest and turned his gaze away from the window, because Cyrene had already walked up to him, dragging his huge suitcase. The Immortal stepped forward, helped, and walked in front, pulling the suitcase, while the eight-year-old girl followed behind him, closely.

When they passed by the apartment rented by the hot dog vendor, Cyrene walked up and knocked on the door, but after waiting for a few minutes without any response, she returned to Orperson in great disappointment.

"He left long ago."

Cyrene's voice was filled with tears.

"He didn't even say goodbye to me."

"Maybe he just wants to grab a spot in the best towns."

Olpersson offered words of comfort.

"You know, he is looking forward to the coming of the Emperor just like you."

"No, it's different."

The little girl shook her head.

"He must have gone to Avalon. He always said he was going to Avalon."

Then, Cyrene raised his face and looked at Orpesson in a daze.

"Is it so nice there: why do any of you want to go to Avalon?"

"..."

Olpersson found that he could not answer this simple question, and he hesitated for a moment. Finally, he gave an answer that he did not even know if it was an answer: Perhaps, this is more like a consolation.

"I can't tell you, little girl, but if you want, I can take you to Avalon with me: believe me, you will like life there more, and then, perhaps, you will understand the answer to this question."

"But I don't want to leave."

Cyrene took one last look at the habitat she had lived in for eight years.

"This is the perfect city. This is my home."

"Now it is..."

The Immortal did not speak again, he kept his thoughts in silence: After comparing the situations of Perfect City and Avalon in his mind, Orpesson felt that for this little guy without a father or a mother, perhaps Avalon would be a more friendly environment for him to grow up in.

If all else fails, just take the little girl out of the city and hand her over to the woman in person: given the woman's personal experience and character, she will not ignore such an orphan. I just hope that Cyrene will not be raised to be a fanatical nun.

The Immortal made up his mind. He took Cyrene's hand and led her to choose a uncrowded path: In the twenty days before officially entering the Perfect City, every Avalon soldier who participated in the operation was required to memorize the map of their activity area.

"Forget it. I'll take you outside the city and to the evacuation team. You have to stay there obediently. There will be a group of scary-looking older sisters waiting for you, but they are actually a group of very friendly people."

"Will the vendor uncle be there too?"

"Ah, that shouldn't be possible."

The Eternal scratched his chin.

"Because you are separated, in order to avoid unnecessary bad incidents, they will separate you: adult men without families will be grouped together, women and children without family breadwinners will be grouped together, and intact families will be grouped together. The elderly or orphans will also be grouped separately..."

"In short, it was a hassle, but they really put a lot of effort into it."

"They are very attentive. Why are they so attentive? Are they good people?"

"Not really the good guys: they're just the weird ones."

"strangeness."

"Yes: in this galaxy, the good guys are the weird ones."

"You will understand later."

Olpersson held the suitcase in one hand and pulled Cyrene with the other. The early morning sun had just risen from behind him. In the gradually dazzling sunlight, two shadows, one big and one small, were dragged very long on the ground, running parallel to each other until they disappeared in the hustle and bustle of the perfect city and could no longer be heard from.

And where they disappeared, an extremely abnormal, blood-red light was gradually covering the entire Perfect City: it came from the Emperor's fleet in the sky, and from an isolation skynet that had been laid out long ago.

When the Empire's first ship arrived in Monacia's low-Earth orbit, the isolation net had already been deployed, and it was not until now that it slowly retreated, leaving space for sending communication files.

There is no doubt that a letter from the Perfect City, at the instruction of the Emperor and the Primarch, rushed out from the broken gap at the first moment, and rushed to the distant front of the Great Crusade beyond the galaxy.

He ran towards the one who believed the truth, who still knew nothing about this place until now.

(End of this chapter)