Emperor's Bane

Chapter 597 Target Ullanor

"The Luna Wolves, Death Guard, White Scars, Blood Angels, World Eaters, Thousand Sons, Word Bearers, Emperor's Children, Alphas, Iron Warriors, Ultramarines and Dawnbreakers: every proud war machine of the Imperium has been summoned by the Emperor, and their bows are turned toward the northern frontiers of the galaxy."

"The Titan Legion, the Knight Dynasty, the Mortal Army, the Expedition Fleet, the Emissary Group, and the endless Mechanical Cultists, every sword loyal to the Emperor will join this greatest war along with the Legion's victorious steps: compared with the glorious victory that Ullanor is about to achieve, all the victories in the Great Crusade pale in comparison."

"And now, before this great victory in which the Lord of Mankind personally leads the battle and the Wolf God and his Sixteenth Legion are destined to become famous, there is only one suspense that is worth our speculation: that is, how exactly does our lucky Lord Horus want to make the most of this victory that is within his grasp?"

"What do you think, Sigismund?"

"..."

The hissing of metal collision

"Unlike you, I have little interest in all this red tape, Pollux."

Compared with a dozen years ago, Sigismund's voice has become much calmer. In Pollax's opinion, it is like the difference between an iron ingot being hammered in a furnace and then being poured with cold water. To be honest, he actually prefers the former Sigismund who was enthusiastic and a little reckless.

"But even I can hear a loophole in your words."

As Sigismund spoke, he launched his next blow. The silent sound of the blow alone made Polux feel sick to his teeth: he instinctively took a defensive stance, even though the Black Knight had his back to him at this time.

"What loophole?"

"You forgot about us, brother."

"Given Lord Dorne's character, it is impossible for him not to participate in the Battle of Ullanor, especially since the Emperor and the Wolf God have summoned him: the Phalanx is undergoing a large-scale maintenance. Can't you see the meaning of this?"

"Indeed, it was my negligence."

Pollax nodded and admitted it neatly, and for the next short while, neither of them spoke: Sigismund focused on his swordsmanship, while Pollax was observing him, specifically, observing the Terminator armor hanging in front of the Black Knight, which he used as a punching bag.

Even with Sigismund's special status in Dorn's heart, he only got the Primarch's approval after he had made great contributions in several wars: Although a set of Terminator armor was certainly not a rare item for the Imperial Fists, it took some effort to convince the Lord of the Imperial Fists to accept such a wasteful act.

The Black Knight succeeded, the only drawback is that he has not yet found any combat brothers in the legion who are willing to stand in the Terminator armor and serve as volunteers, so he cannot conduct actual combat drills.

Pollax could totally understand that.

After all, he witnessed with his own eyes how Sigismund stabbed the Terminator Armor hanging in front of him with more than a dozen fatal damages in a blink of an eye: he could swear with all his honor that if there was a real person inside the Terminator Armor, then every blow of Sigismund made his opponent feel the reality of approaching death.

Feeling the same way, Polux felt that he, wearing the Terminator Armor, would not be able to hold out for long against Sigismund: being able to fight for more than ten minutes with the determination to die was already a performance beyond his limit.

Even just watching, Pollax felt his neck go cold. As one of the few witnesses who witnessed the whole process, he saw with his own eyes how Sigismund spent more than ten years studying and honing his stabbing skills day and night after he was defeated by Dantioch's Terminator Armor tactics.

This Black Knight is perhaps the best person in the Empire today at dealing with Terminators: before he knew it, Pollax had respectfully recited the supreme honor that Sigismund had just received a few years ago.

"Captain Chief."

His voice was respectful.

"I hate to interrupt you, but the time for Dorn's meeting is approaching."

"I know, brother."

The Black Knight drew back his sword.

"Let us go. I look forward to the position we will be given in the Battle of Ullanor."

"Do you desire to make enemies with the greenskins?"

"Those guys aren't worth mentioning."

Sigismund's smile always has an indescribable persuasiveness.

"What I'm really looking forward to is what will happen after the victory at Ullanor. Just think about it, my brother Pollax, the primarchs and experts of at least a dozen legions will gather together. Looking around, they are all veterans who have worked in the Great Crusade for at least one or two hundred years. The opportunity to learn from them may only come once in a lifetime, and it will definitely not end immediately."

"So, after the war in Ullanor ends, we will have the real grand event."

"Blade Gala?"

"That's right!"

Pollax's tentative proposal made Sigismund turn his head suddenly, with excitement flashing in his pupils.

"That's a great name, bro."

"Blade Gala..."

"I think I'll be looking forward to it."

“What exactly are you looking forward to?”

"Naturally, this is a question that all warriors in the Great Crusade are most concerned about."

Sigismund licked the corner of his mouth, and the blade of his sword scraped against the floor.

"That is, among all the Astartes warriors whose fame is known throughout the universe."

"Who is the strongest one?"

"What do you think, Pollax?"

"I think……"

------

"Only the dead are the most competitive in this matter."

"why?"

"Because dying young will leave enough soil for people to indulge in their fantasies and expectations."

"And the longer a guy lives, the more he will lose face in front of life and the public."

"That's the most damn truth in this damn universe."

Ahriman leaned back in his seat and nonchalantly signed his name on the heavy book in his hand. His handwriting was so beautiful that even the Emperor's children could not match it: because Ahriman had spent time in the past to hone his writing skills, especially his signing skills.

The reason is simple. Today, Ahriman's signature has become one of the most authoritative certifications in the entire human empire in the field of psychic power. Such a noble status naturally requires good handwriting: after all, it is to be passed down through the ages.

Passed down through the ages...tsk tsk tsk...

Ahriman was complacent in his heart. Even though he considered himself humble and restrained, pride would surge in Ahriman's heart when he thought that tens of millions of years later, the people and psykers of the human empire would still be excited by the knowledge legacy he left behind.

He is doing a great thing: although there are still many people who don't understand.

Just like our good friend Hector in front of us.

"You still don't understand?"

After signing the last book, Ahriman began to sort and categorize them: Although the titles of these books are the same at first glance, if you look closely, you will find that there are actually very subtle differences in the color of the cover and the thickness of each book.

Ahriman knew it by heart.

The gold-covered one was sent to Terra; the green-covered one was given to each legion; the white-covered one was kept by the Dawnbreaker Legion; and the black-covered one was given to the mortal library: Of course, Ahriman also hid a silver-covered one, but that was a unique copy that only Morgan was qualified to keep.

"A little, indeed."

Hector nodded, his eyes lingering on Ahriman's desk.

"Okay then, I'll explain it to you in more common language."

Ahriman sighed.

"Like Randan and the greenskins."

"You still remember Ran Dan, right?"

"Remember... a little bit."

"What about the greenskins?"

"Unforgettable."

"That's the effect."

Ahriman snapped his fingers.

"You see, the Randan have been completely wiped out by the imperial army. Only a few vague words remain. People only know that this race was once very powerful and caused untold losses to the empire, but they don't know any detailed information about them. They can only imagine how powerful the Randan civilization was in the past."

"And what about the greenskins? We all know that the greenskins are almost impossible to kill, and our descendants are destined to suffer from these creatures. We are also aware that the damage caused by the greenskins to the human empire has actually exceeded that of the Randan, and this is without counting Ullanor."

"However, in terms of mystery and distance, the greenskins are not as good as the Randans. In addition, humans have won countless victories over the greenskins, and these victories have been clearly preserved. So, in the eyes of future generations, do you think they will think that the Randans are stronger or the greenskins are stronger?"

"Of course it's Randan: they will regard Randan as the strongest enemy of the Great Crusade." "But we all know that there are still a few civilizations that are equal to Randan. It's just that they lack Randan's luck. They were discovered by the Empire before they could expand their base, and then strangled in the cradle in time."

Ahriman smiled: As he became more and more favored by Morgan, Ahriman had been able to get access to certain things that he had never been qualified to know before, such as the secret journey of the Dark Angels.

"In the archives that were completely sealed by the Dark Angels, there are several civilizations that could have become the next Randan if they had another century of development time. But the greenskins are a nightmare that we can never get rid of no matter how many centuries have passed."

"Now, do you understand?"

"……almost."

Hector pursed his lips, still looking somewhat confused, but wisely gave up pursuing the issue any further: since this issue was related to psychic powers, it would be inappropriate for him, as Morgan's descendant, to delve too deeply into it.

“And that just confuses me.”

After hearing Hector's attitude, it was Ahriman who frowned.

"You are obviously the descendants of Morgan, but why are you so restrained when it comes to psychic power? Take for example these psychic manuals in front of me. According to your previous habits as Dawnbreakers, shouldn't everyone have a complete set?"

"This is your mistake."

Hector laughed.

"It is precisely because we are the most obedient descendants of Master Morgan. Therefore, we will not deliberately collect these psychic books: we know our gene mother's attitude towards psychic power. Even the think tank brothers in the legion will only collect the part of the psychic codex that is relevant to their professional fields."

"This is a very serious issue, my brother Ahriman: if we act recklessly in other matters, the Primarch will not care. She is always so open-minded, but the issue of psychic power is something she cares about, so we need to suppress our instincts as much as possible in all matters related to psychic power."

"Resisting collecting the Holy Scripture of Psychic Power?"

“It’s still a bit difficult.”

Hector was a little depressed.

"However, the Legion's collection does have a complete set of the Psionic Codex, including drafts and memoranda: there is also one copy of each of the different colored covers in front of you. But I am curious, why do you have to distribute several copies of the Psionic Codex every time you update it?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

Ahriman laughed.

"Take these alien creature records in front of me as an example: Do you really believe that the Empire has only encountered 50,000 species of alien creatures in the Great Crusade so far? The actual number is far more than this, but who says that the alien creatures outside of these 50,000 species cannot be easily shown to outsiders?"

"In fact, if you open the psychic manuals given to mortals, you will find that there are less than 30,000 species recorded in them. If you open the one given to Terra, you will find that there are at least 70,000 or 80,000 species recorded in it. It has always been like this."

"Just to keep it secret?"

"Another reason is that the power of some alien creatures determines that even if mortals know their habits or even weaknesses, it is absolutely impossible to fight against them: Astartes warriors were created for a reason."

"All right……"

"In other words: the version left to the Dawnbreakers contains more records?"

"Yes, more than you would believe."

"One hundred thousand?"

“Much more than that.”

Ahriman smiled.

"Because the intelligence sent back by the Dark Angels and the encounters of the Night Lords in the deepest part of the ghouls are only recorded in the Dawnbreaker version and the silver version personally collected by Lord Morgan. Only Lord Morgan and Lord Jonson, as well as the highest-ranking Dawnbreakers and Dark Angels, are qualified to possess and know the contents."

"After all, some of the alien creatures recorded here had their records of appearance erased by the Emperor himself: the last one to receive such treatment was the 11th Legion. I hope there won't be another case like this."

“Hopefully no one will ever need them.”

"By the way: what about Terra?"

"Terra is not qualified: only His Excellency the Sigillite is qualified."

"understood."

Hector nodded, knowing when to stop in this area that he was not good at.

"Speaking of the Sigillite, I heard rumors that he will lead a fleet from Holy Terra to participate in the Ullanor Expedition?"

"Yes, after all, he couldn't miss the conference after Ullanor."

“But I think we can be absent.”

Hector's face turned gloomy.

"At the very least, I think the Far Eastern Frontier can be completely absent from the Battle of Ullanor."

"Why do you think so?"

"You don't know yet."

Hector snorted.

"The news just came. Although the Emperor has ordered thirteen legions and a large number of affiliated forces to participate in the Battle of Ullanor, and all of them are under the command of Horus, the Wolf God obviously does not intend to let everyone enjoy the supreme glory of being able to attack the territory of the Orc Empire head-on with the Emperor."

"……What's the meaning?"

Ahriman was silent for a moment.

"It's very simple."

Hector drew two rough diagonal lines on the star map nearby.

"We all know that the thirteen legions that participated in the Ullanor Crusade did not send out all their forces: for example, Guilliman's Ultramarines only mobilized 150,000 men, although it was still the largest number of all the legions."

"And the White Scars and the World Eaters only sent a few Brotherhoods and Great Companies."

"I thought that the relationship between Chagatai Khan and Horus has always been very good?"

"No matter how good the relationship is, it's impossible for the Khan to capture all the dozens of fleets scattered across the galaxy. For the White Scars, mobilizing several brotherhoods at once is already a rare event."

"What about Dawnbreaker?"

"Twenty thousand people?"

"Still twenty thousand?"

"That's right: the mission Horus gave us wasn't an important one anyway."

"You mean to say that Mr. Morgan cannot stand beside the Emperor?"

"of course."

Hector pouted.

"The order just sent: Horus requires the Dawnbreaker Legion to set out from Avalon and attack the eastern border of the Orc Empire in order to attract the Orcs' attention and create space and opportunities for his main fleet to attack Ullanor directly."

"A decoy force?"

"At least he didn't have the heart to let us shoulder this battle alone."

"Is it?"

Ahriman smiled, but his voice was cold. He had long since learned to share honor and disgrace with the entire Dawnbreaker Legion: Horus's use of the Dawnbreaker Legion naturally made Ahriman furious.

"Who else are your comrades?"

"The Emperor's Children, the Ultramarines... and the White Scars."

"Four legions in total?"

"Do not……"

As an insider, Hector smiled meaningfully at this time.

"Although none of the participants have mobilized all of their fighters, but..."

"Eight legions in total."

"..."

"Does Horus know?"

"No: he thought there were only four."

(End of this chapter)