Emperor's Bane

Chapter 606: The Protector of the Country and the Regent (Part )
"Heh...huh..."

In the empty room, the sound of heavy breathing floated over the light golden beard and the hanging Dawnbreaker flag. Emerald green pupils swept across the lens-like smooth walls, but only saw the tense face of a demigod.

Silent and depressing.

"It's really not nice."

Moving his lips, Zhuang Sen's voice sounded hoarse and dry.

He felt a little nervous.

As the eldest son of the Emperor and the lion of the Empire, Jonson rarely feels nervous: looking across the entire galaxy, there are probably no more than five people who can make Jonson nervous, and the Primarch is sure that more than half of them have died under his sword.

Or died in front of him.

Usually, this was done by Morgan, whose psionic magic was enough to completely wipe out the most powerful creatures in the galaxy from the spiritual realm, and the physical death was a matter of convenience: Jonson would count such kills as a joint achievement between him and Morgan, because that was what Morgan believed.

Then, the Lion King will record it on the Glory Stone Wall of his own Legion: only the achievements that convince the vast majority of the Dark Angels can be recorded on the [Giant Rock] that is as old as the entire First Legion, and the Spider Queen obviously meets all the above conditions.

The Dark Angels were not forgetful, and the Lions had an even better memory. Although Morgan's battle alongside them happened almost half a century ago, every detail that could be passed down was still clearly recorded in the history books of the First Legion: from the command room of the Indomitable Truth to the palace gates of Holy Terra, there was an entire library in the inner circle under Jonson's command, which was dedicated to recording this extremely long road to glory.

The Lion himself often visited this secret library, one of his most frequent stops aboard the Indomitable Truth, where he would recall his past: the years when he fought alongside his blood relatives, the greatest challenges the First Order had ever faced, and the beginning of the Great Crusade, a fifty years filled with endless violence and fighting.

At that time, everything was very simple: just killing, massacre, mass murder, mass killing and [erasing records].

In Jonson's view, the fifty years of blood and bones that paved the way were the true Great Crusade, and all this was just a way to clear out the remnants of their old achievements: there were very few real wars in the galaxy now.

Therefore, Zhuang Sen would miss those war-filled years, miss the feeling of shouldering the fate of half the galaxy, miss those opponents who could make him nervous, frightened, and make him take deep breaths involuntarily, and the throbbing feeling of cold sweat making every inch of hair stick to his skin.

He missed those guys who could have killed him, but were killed by him instead. They all died under the iron boots of him and Morgan: only one guy in the entire galaxy could escape, and he still made Jonson nervous.

And now, he was outside the door.

The lion pricked up his ears.

The stupid footsteps, accompanied by the sound of Morgan's signature high heels, made Zhuang Sen frown. He retracted his thoughts and vision, lowered his throat and coughed heavily twice, until he was sure that his voice could be maintained at the most majestic level.

Then, he turned around and faced the door, taking a rare look at his appearance: black and red armor is always the first choice to show the king's demeanor. As for the Caliban green one, it had long been stuffed into the deepest part of his own warship by Jonson, because Morgan had clearly rejected it.

Jonson was neither good at nor interested in fiddling with these appearances, so he simply adopted Morgan's opinion: since the Spider Queen said the black and red color scheme was better, then let's put Caliban's color aside.

The footsteps were getting closer and closer, and he could even vaguely hear the low conversation of the two primarchs mixed in. Zhuang Sen finally cleared his mind of all distracting thoughts. He took a last look at the huge star map leaning against the wall, and he sighed unconsciously.

seriously.

if you can……

------

"I really don't want to work with that guy."

The King of Five Hundred Worlds lowered his eyebrows, his golden hair lost its luster, and a long sigh was forced out from between his clenched teeth. Seeing such a sad look, the Spider Queen, who was walking side by side with him, had to desperately hold back her smile.

[You mean Jonson? ]

"Who else could it be?"

Guilliman rubbed his temple.

"Anyone is fine, why did you drag this guy into this war?"

Having said that, the Macragge people suddenly seemed to have some guesses.

"Or did that fellow, Jonson, approach you on his own initiative, hoping to have his First Legion participate in this expedition to earn some merit, so that others wouldn't say that he has the most powerful legion but is always not contributing?"

【What a coincidence～】

After hearing the last sentence, the Lord of Avalon finally couldn't suppress his laughter.

[Jonson told me the same thing: He said that the reason you led such a large army to participate in the Battle of Ullanor was to take advantage of the opportunity to gain credit for yourself and to stop those who accused you of not working hard during the Great Crusade.]

“…This is slander.”

Guilliman was silent for a moment, his retort sounding sickly.

【But didn’t you just slander Zhuang Sen exactly as you did? 】

Morgan blinked, with a hint of sarcasm in his voice: Guilliman is one of the Spider Queen's more familiar brothers in the human empire, so in front of him, Morgan would sometimes be too lazy to disguise herself and would reveal her somewhat sharp nature. Anyway, Guilliman could tolerate these shortcomings well.

In other words, the Macragge people actually like the shortcomings shown by Morgan, because it makes his blood relative look more like a living person: what Guilliman needs is not a statue that obeys everything, what he needs is the true brotherhood between blood relatives, even if it is accompanied by some negative emotions, it doesn’t matter.

It can’t be worse than the emperor.

"This is different, Morgan."

But even brotherhood did not prevent Guilliman from defending himself seriously.

"Jonson is slandering: I am raising my doubts in a reasonable manner."

【Maybe. 】

Morgan was vague and didn't go too deep into the topic.

After dealing with several pairs of Primarch brothers who had unpleasant relationships, the Spider Queen was too lazy to continue expending her verbal energy in this regard: besides, compared with the previous pairs, the hostility between Jonson and Guilliman was not really serious.

It seemed more like the two of them were just arguing with each other.

I feel inexplicably angry: It’s obvious that the two of them have only met each other a few times.

【But, speaking of which. 】

When they reached the door, Morgan first waved her hand to let the Hunting God Roses who were paying tribute to her retreat first, then she lowered her voice and asked the Macragge one last question with interest.

[I have always wanted to ask you, decades ago, my Robert: Why do you have so many complaints and concerns about Zhuang Sen? ]

[Does he make you feel uncomfortable?]

“…About the same…”

This time, Guilliman's silence seemed particularly long to him.

"I don't deny that he is excellent, but his excellence gives me a different kind of pressure. Among all the Primarch brothers, he and Horus are the only two who make me feel out of reach: I must admit to you, Morgan, I can't deal with a guy like Jonson, and..."

[And you're a little jealous? ]

Morgan's eyebrows were curved, and when her knowing look came to him, Guilliman couldn't even hide it: although as the relationship between the two became more familiar, Morgan's influence in Guilliman's heart had weakened, but even so, the Spider Queen would still give the Macragge people a sense of charm that was very similar to that of Ms. Euton in her every move.

And every time the real Lady Euden looked at him with a half-smile like this, Guilliman could never hide his secret: he licked his dry lips, and just before pushing open the door, he revealed his true feelings to his blood relative as if begging.

"Yes...I am a little jealous of him."

【What can you be jealous of him for? 】

"Who wouldn't envy the true legend of this great expedition?"

Guilliman bit his lip. He looked very unwilling, but he had to admit it.

"He is writing a true legend in the galaxy, while I am stuck in my own."

【I thought you liked this.】

"Of course I do: but I also have dreams about war, duty and travel."

"When I was... very young."

"That was the time of fantasy: the ideals of that time could affect me now, but I am powerless now. Like other ideals in my heart, they are destined to be buried under the prosperity of Macragge."

The Primarch's face looked somewhat embarrassed.

"And Jonson truly possesses all of this."

[So, this makes you jealous? ] "...Come on, Morgan."

"Don't tell anyone, please."

The Primarch pleaded in a low voice until his sister stopped smiling and nodded seriously. Only then did Guilliman adjust his mentality which had been disturbed by Morgan, and pushed open the iron door in front of him: Jonson was standing closer than he thought.

Only five or six meters apart, the two blood brothers just stared at each other.

"Morgan, Guilliman."

It was Jonson who spoke first, holding the hilt of his sword with one hand and the table with the other, greeting them like a host, his eyes softened a little when he passed over Morgan, but he was completely wary of Guilliman: although the Macragge people were also on high alert.

"Jonson."

Guilliman spoke solemnly, and Morgan just nodded casually: The Gene-Mother of the Dawnbreaker did not step forward immediately, but retreated to an inconspicuous corner, quietly observing the two successful brothers. The low pressure between them was so heavy that it could break the spine of a mortal.

In the end, it was the more civilized Guilliman who retreated first. He strode towards Jonson, seeming to be thinking about whether he should shake hands or hug him. Until his eyes passed over Jonson's head, Guilliman's expression suddenly changed.

In a brief moment, his eyes passed over the top of Jonson's head, and then looked at the ground at Jonson's feet, as if he was measuring how tall his Caliban brother was. Then, he measured his own height: after discovering that Jonson seemed to be firmly taller than him, the Lord of Macragge's already depressed face finally tightened.

He looked like he didn't want to hug, or even get too close to Jonson.

A different kind of frustration surrounded him.

But unfortunately, the lion in front of him did not intend to give him this opportunity.

Guilliman's little movement was so obvious that even Jonson could observe where his gaze was and realize why his expression changed: in contrast to Guilliman, Jonson seemed very satisfied with this unexpected victory.

He grinned, revealing an extremely aggressive smile, and without giving Guilliman any time to react, he strode forward and hugged his brother warmly: in the moment when the lion rushed forward, the Macragge only had time to make one move.

What is Guilliman doing?
Morgan saw it clearly.

Oh……

------

He is on tiptoe.

------

"It's so ridiculous!"

"Is this the plan you came up with?"

"Trying to target my legion, Jonson?"

"I do not, Guilliman."

"Your plan doesn't think so!"

Guilliman snorted coldly. Except on the battlefield where swords clashed, he rarely fell into such obvious rage: the demigod paced back and forth beside the strategic table, his anger that had nowhere to vent made the "Sword and Rose" flag hanging from the ceiling shake uneasily.

Who could have thought that less than five minutes had passed since his meeting with Zhuang Sen, which was a little awkward but definitely not hostile: no, it should be said that everyone could have thought of this.

Especially when you were standing next to the two of them, witnessing the entire process from the two Primarchs greeting each other, to the awkward small talk, to Jonson bringing up the topic of war, to taking out his battle plan, and finally Guilliman just taking a few glances before slamming the table and standing up.

Morgan did all of that.

She didn't say a word. When Jonson and Guilliman each occupied one end of the table and stood up to confront each other, the Spider Queen slumped on the soft chair on the side, sandwiched between the two men, but her slumped body was leaning towards Jonson.

"At its core, this is nothing more than a decapitation operation that requires crossing star zones."

"Just like our tried and tested method when dealing with any greenskin force in the Great Crusade over the past hundred years, we sent some troops to tie up the greenskin army and create space for the decapitation force to strike: some people will bleed and sacrifice silently, while others will grab the greatest honor."

"But this time, the battlefield has moved from the planet to the void, becoming larger and requiring more blood. If we want to divert most of the greenskins from here to Ullanor, my legion can do it if we risk all our lives."

"Then your Dark Angels can go straight to behead Ullanor."

"Is that so, Jonson?"

Guilliman smiled, tapped the plan and the star map in turn, and looked his brother in the eye fearlessly: while Jonson was adjusting his breathing because of his anger, the Macragge had read the plan again from beginning to end, and picked out a dozen small problems that he had not noticed before.

"If I must say, you did choose a very [classic] style of play, brother."

"So what do you think?"

A trace of irritation trembled across Zhuang Sen's face.

“Or does the prospect of blood being shed seem too great to be worth the cost, Guilliman?”

"What do you mean?"

The hidden meaning in these words made Guilliman raise his brows in displeasure.

"What do you mean?"

The lion looked up.

"You have mobilized such a huge force, more than any other legion, for an expedition that has nothing to do with you and didn't even involve you. And now you are haggling over the plan I proposed because it would cost your legion a certain amount of casualties, even though you can't come up with a plan yourself."

"Why? Are you reluctant to let your warriors bleed and sacrifice in this war that has nothing to do with the Five Hundred Worlds? Because these deaths cannot bring you new territories, nor can they make your Ultramar prosperous and strong?"

"..."

Guilliman breathed heavily, his face quickly turning red.

"You are slandering me..."

"I have not slandered you, Guilliman."

Jonson smiled.

"I am just raising my doubts in a reasonable manner."

"Your groundless accusations against my war plan sound more like slander."

"..."

For some reason, the Lord of Macragge, who was originally furious, calmed down after hearing Zhuangsen's counterattack: all kinds of strange micro-expressions kept appearing on his handsome face, as if he was recalling the most recent unbearable thing, and finally stayed in a mixed state of helplessness and surprise.

This made Zhuang Sen a little confused.

Zhuang Sen looked at Morgan silently, but Morgan's reaction was the same...

【Pfft...】

#Avalon-style snicker#
"Is there something wrong with what I just said, Morgan?"

[No... nothing...]

【You go on, Jonson.】

Morgan tilted her head to the side, her entire upper body shaking with laughter.

The Lion nodded suspiciously and looked at Guilliman again with an embarrassed expression. When he found that his Macragge brother was still staring closely at his war plan, especially at the possible casualties that the Ultramarines Legion might suffer, Jonson couldn't help but sigh quietly at this pettiness.

"Anyone is fine, why did you have to be dragged into this war?"

"If it is at all possible, I really do not want to work with you, Guilliman."

【…】

"..."

This time, it wasn't just Morgan.

Even Guilliman laughed.

(End of this chapter)