Emperor's Bane

Chapter 626 Golden Throne - Lily
"The winner of the great war."

"Tsk, it feels..."

"Better than a bitter loser."

"However, for our great wolf-shepherd god Horus, these two titles are actually quite ironic. He won when he shouldn't have won, and failed where he should not have failed. I hope he won't live to realize this this time, and I also hope that the most tragic fate in the galaxy can show mercy to our great warmaster."

"Just like it did to me this time."

Sitting upright on the Blood Throne, which was made of the corpses of fifty-five civilized races as steps and the main body, and melted from thousands of twisted alien bones with the skin and flesh peeled off, the Eternal Night King of Nostramo was obviously very satisfied with his own humorous words and artistic style. He curled up his thin lips and smiled on his haggard and pale face as a reward.

He had the right to be happy for a while, whether it was to praise his own cultural accomplishment or to sing the praises of another victory he had just achieved, which was worth writing about: after all, whoever won an undoubted victory in this damn place called the Ghoul Stars was worth singing praises about.

Not even Dorn would deny that.

In fact, ever since the Lord of the Imperial Fist learned some of the truth about the Ghoul Stars from the Emperor, this Invert stone man, who theoretically should have been at odds with Conrad, or at least had nothing in common with him, actually sent an entire fleet for the first time: it was loaded with 2,000 Imperial Fists who were as indestructible as their Primarchs, as reinforcements for the Eighth Legion.

Dorn's meaning was obvious: although on the surface, Holy Terra had already outsourced all the defense of the entire Ghoul Star and subsequent colonization plans to Conrad's descendants, the Lord of the Imperial Fist did not think so.

According to Dorn, a threat as great as the Ghoul Swarm should not be a private matter of a single Legion: it should be a collective threat to the entire galaxy, requiring every Legion and the Emperor's subjects to contribute their share of strength.

Therefore, the Imperial Fists have an obligation to shoulder their share of responsibility.

Very similar to Donne's behavior logic.

And Conrad, likes it very much.

If this kind of thing happened to any other Primarch brother, no matter who they are, they would more or less frown because their [private territory] was disturbed for no reason, but Midnight Haunter was different. Not only did he know Dorn's reasons for intervening in the Ghoul Stars, which were as simple as he said on the surface, but he also had no sense of territory for his [private kingdom] of the Ghoul Stars.

Nonsense, what madman can have any territorial awareness of such a place: this is a ghost place that even Perturabo would quietly avoid. Although after hearing about Dorn's actions, the Iron Warriors Legion also squeezed out a large camp and ran to Nostramo to assist in defense.

However, the kind-hearted Midnight Haunter did not throw these two cheap reinforcements directly into the zombie stars to play a real-life escape. He just enthusiastically took these unfortunate guys for a circle around the outermost area, as a gesture of hospitality. Afterwards, he threw these guys into the outermost line of defense and left behind several orders for building bunkers before leaving.

Very rarely, both the Imperial Fists and the Iron Warriors just quietly took out their measuring instruments and scrapers, and began to diligently contribute their own civil engineering strength to the [Nostramo Ring Ghoul Star Defense Belt]: no one mentioned the suggestion of actively launching an expedition to the Ghoul Stars, not even the most fanatical Imperial Fists.

Conrad and his descendants were no longer surprised by this. After all, in the previous thirty or forty years, more than one legion's expeditionary force or support fleet had traveled thousands of miles to the land of Nostramo, and vowed to conquer this [the last black spot in the entire galaxy]. However, ninety-nine percent of them did not even have the courage to stay on the outermost line of defense in the end. The descendants of Dorn and Perturabo had already shown courage worthy of their genetic father.

The Night Lords will never laugh at those who dare not launch an expedition against the Ghoul Stars, or even flee on their own initiative, because Konrad's bloodline knows clearly: without the Primarch leading the team himself, they actually dare not run into this hellhole.

Even with the Primarch Konrad leading the team himself, every Ghoul expedition must be carried out with extreme caution: most of the time they are just skimming the outermost layer, and going a little deeper inside would be a major event worthy of being written into the history of the Legion.

Generally speaking, there are only two reasons that can truly support them in advancing into the deepest part of the Ghoul Stars: First, it is the rumor that the monsters in this ghost place are planning to march into the heart of the empire. No matter how sad the truth of these rumors is, the Eighth Legion must use their lives to verify its authenticity.

They must know whether these miraculous words are just rumors, or whether they pose a real threat that is worth mobilizing the power of the entire Legion, or calling for reinforcements from the Dawnbreakers and Ultramarines Legions, or even going a step further and requesting an Imperial Sky Crusade led by the Emperor himself from Holy Terra.

This is not an exaggeration: in the darkness guarded by the Night Lords, there really are opponents lurking who can swallow them up in one bite.

At most four or five years ago, an entire fleet of the Night Lords Legion lost all contact within an hour while passing through a deep area called the Drazak Sector among the Ghoul Stars: three companies and hundreds of thousands of mortal auxiliary troops, but without even a complete message for help, three battleships and a dozen cruisers were swallowed up by this damn place without leaving a trace.

What's even more terrifying is that Midnight Haunter actually refused to seek revenge. He only asked that the information be strictly blocked and the entire Drazak sector be designated as a restricted area from then on. Even if a fleet was lost there, no rescue would be allowed.

During the more than 40 years of exploration of the entire Ghoul Star by the Midnight Lords, Conrad drew one forbidden area after another, such as Drazak. When they were counted later, they had occupied most of the territory of the entire Ghoul Star: these prohibited symbols were the lives of tens of thousands of Midnight Lords and countless mortal auxiliary troops.

But such heavy losses did bring real benefits. First of all, the Eighth Legion's combat effectiveness and morale had been significantly improved. The entire Midnight Lords could be said to have been reborn: literally reborn.

Those new recruits who were able to survive one or even multiple Ghoul Crusades have all, at an astonishing speed, grown into powerful forces that can surpass their peers. After more than forty years of continuous bloodshed and sacrifice, the Eighth Legion has transformed from a killer gang that ranked last in average quality among all the legions before Conrad took over into a war group that is now famous throughout the galaxy for the elite quality of its individual soldiers.

But this isn't the biggest change.

The real change is in the soul.

Although the current Midnight Lords will also accept the task of internal suppression and spreading fear, their main task is still to defend the ghoul stars and keep the people safe. This is undoubtedly a boost to the morale of the legion: every Midnight Lord can proudly call himself a warrior defending the entire human empire, without having to find a pale explanation for the wall of honor stained with the blood of his compatriots as in the past.

Under this transformation, even the most stubborn Terra veterans would willingly abandon most of the Legion's traditions and embrace the new future brought to them by the Midnight Haunter: the history of the Eighth Legion needing to forcibly recruit new soldiers from various conquered worlds is gone forever, and they have now become the dream destination of countless young athletes. The selection standards for new recruits are being raised every year, and the bloodshed among the Ghoul Stars has never stopped every year, but the overall number of soldiers and the quality of the Legion are also steadily increasing.

It was this obvious contrast that established Conrad's unquestionable dominance over the entire legion. Even though he often led his men to charge into the ghoul stars, no soldier would say anything: what they feared was that their names were not on the expedition list and that they could not participate in the legion's most glorious collective activities.

This is another change in the Eighth Legion, and also the Primarch's proudest achievement.

Compared to the past, the Night Lords now have finally learned the importance of unity. This is a simple survival of the fittest. After all, those who don't know how to survive in a group and can't rely on each other's backs with their companions generally can't walk out of the Ghoul Stars alive: the power of an individual is not worth mentioning there. Only by gathering the power of a group can they walk out of the living hell of the galaxy intact.

But even so, the internal cohesion of the Eighth Legion is still not as good as that of most of its brother units. The Night Lords are more accustomed to small-scale battles involving dozens or hundreds of people. As for large-scale legion operations that require tens of thousands of soldiers to attack together, they are still inexperienced, and the coordination of multiple arms is a mess: even Conrad has no way to deal with it.

Because: He doesn’t know how to do it either.

What a sad story.

However, despite some shortcomings, the people of Nostramo are still full of admiration for their great Gene-Father: it is no longer the morbid worship of the Blood King in the past, but an instinctive gathering for the core hub of the entire legion. It is this gathering that makes them follow the Primarch to the core area of ​​the Ghoul Stars every few years and launch another almost one-way expedition.

If it was just to confirm the rumors, then there would be no need for such frequent expeditions. This is the second reason why the Night Lords Legion often expeditions to the Ghoul Stars: they can indeed gain benefits in this crazy but fertile [Bloody Canaan].

In this bloody Canaan that has swallowed up countless time and air, there are countless ancient treasures hidden that Holy Terra and the Mechanicus could never dream of: almost every expedition of the Eighth Legion will encounter ancient artifacts that can be traced back to the Dark Age of Technology or even the Golden Age, and how to target those giant space hulks that buried countless treasures has become a daily compulsory course within the Midnight Lords. Conrad even made this into a business: after all, the adamantium of Nostramo will be dug up one day, but the ancient treasures in the Ghoul Stars seem to never run out: around this somewhat useless tertiary industry, the Midnight Lords can completely build a sustainable trade network.

Conrad's descendants don't have to worry about the lack of sponsors for the "junk metal" they have spent so much effort to dig out from the ghoul stars: even Mars is willing to pretend to be in love with the three kings of the Far East for these things, and even open an embassy in Nostramo.

But this is just the periphery. Those truly important things will never be put on the auction table by Konrad. They are often the main purpose of the Eighth Legion's expedition. Their importance allows the Primarch to invest hundreds of lives without blinking an eye, and even let himself be trapped in the danger of the Ghoul Star.

It's like: now.

Conrad absentmindedly fiddled with the slightly deformed alien skull in his palm: even after washing off the skin and flesh, he could not find even the tip of the iceberg about this civilized race in any ancient book of the empire, but their strength was unquestionable, because these unnamed aliens had previously hidden in a wrecked space ship, and even with Conrad's personal suppression, the Eighth Legion still paid two thousand lives for victory.

No one would complain, because this was a victory with very low casualties in all the previous Ghoul Crusades. Even this expedition itself was extremely successful: the Night Lords Legion fought all the way to the world [Auretus] deep in the Ghoul Planet. This was their final destination. Conrad believed that in this abandoned and desolate world, there were treasures worth him leading most of the Eighth Legion to gamble their lives on.

This time, the Midnight Haunter's prophecy was also correct.

Nostramo's people dug everywhere on the toxic surface of Oredus, walked in awe through countless magnificent domes that might be tens of thousands of years old, and fought against ancient machines that were still able to move, paying the price of at least tens of thousands of lives: just to find "that thing" in Conrad's dream.

Finally, they found it: after the entire Eighth Legion had been fighting hard on the planet Oredus for nearly two hundred days, an unprecedentedly huge dome building was excavated from deep underground in this world. This wonder, named the Temple of Sound, was a majestic creation that stood out even on Holy Terra, and what Conrad was looking for was inside it.

That is……

"A throne."

Shen, standing next to the Midnight Ghost, talked to himself in confusion.

"Is this what you wanted, Lord Conrad?"

"That should be it."

Conrad was also a little uncertain, and he hesitated on his blood throne.

"You can call it the Glass Throne, Shen."

"Glass Throne..."

Shen whispered the name.

“It gives me an ominous feeling.”

"That's right."

Midnight Haunter grinned.

"After all, it's just a defective product, and its related functions are not that strong. If you saw its genuine brother, that is, the golden throne or the black glass, it would not be as simple as just an unknown omen."

"With all due respect, my Lord."

Shen still frowned.

"It's not just a feeling. My uneasiness is based on reality. As soon as we found this Glazed Throne, we selected an illegal psychic who had committed a crime according to your advance request, and then forced him to sit on this Glazed Throne."

"Very good: where are the others?"

"there."

Shen waved his hand, and a skeleton covered in human skin was lifted up. The skin was as disgusting as the land that had been blown up by a nuclear bomb. Every inch of bone and even every shriveled blood vessel were clearly highlighted. As for soft tissues such as eye sockets and tongue, they had long disappeared: even among the craftsmanship of the Midnight Haunter, this was at a relatively adult level.

"He just persisted... I can't explain it."

Shen smacked his lips.

"Almost instantly, his soul was sucked out the moment he sat on it. We had to watch the slow-paced video later to see the whole process of his death. Although this guy wasn't a powerful psychic, such an ending is enough to alert us."

"Do you know what such a cruel and insane death means, my Lord?"

"Of course I know."

Conrad smiled, looking like he was in two minds with his squire.

"This means that Shen..."

"We found the real thing this time."

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Supplement: The Glazed Throne (or the Glass Throne, but that's not a good name) is a real setting, but it's only active in the storyline of the Death Wraiths Chapter of the Ravens. This chapter also operates in the Ghoul Stars and is the same type as the Space Sharks.

The Glass Throne can be understood as a replica of the Golden Throne, but its functional range seems to only cover an area of ​​land roughly equivalent to the size of the Ghoul Stars: every Death Wraith Chapter Master who sits on it will endure for many years before slowly turning into stone.

(End of this chapter)