Emperor's Bane

Chapter 645: The Narrators
"The news from the starport is that the first batch of Primarchs and Legions have arrived. The Spirit of Vengeance and the Eternal Crusade are merging into low-Earth orbit. The two Primarchs and their lieutenants will arrive at the surface port in fifteen minutes. I have inquired about it, and interviews are allowed there."

"Want to give it a try, Ms. Qile?"

"Don't worry yet, Miss Mesati."

"Let those rough guys who are obsessed with fame and fortune go and explore the way first."

"They are better informed than you: someone left half an hour ago."

"This is not fair!"

"That's fair."

Euphrates-Keele smiled.

Her soft voice was as fair as her complexion and as slender as her limbs, but possessed incredible persuasiveness: Mesati wanted to say something else, but her eloquence seemed to be quietly taken away. She could only stand beside Qi Le in frustration, watching this senior leisurely let go of the opportunity.

The huge and iconic shadow of the Queen of Glory-class battleship slowly slid over everyone's heads, easily obscuring thousands of lives and buildings. The loud roar of the engine permeated the universe, symbolizing the arrival of the demigods and the angel legions. Everyone on the ground became agitated because of this moment.

But Qile is an exception.

The tall lady was focusing all her attention on the high-quality handheld camera in her hand: this was a valuable item she brought out from the factory in Holy Terra. She only squeezed out a little bit of her stingy energy to comfort her tireless companion beside her, so that she would not rush forward foolishly like others.

Qile knew that Mesati was capable of such a thing. As a seemingly weak and petite woman, her courage, determination and perseverance were surprisingly magnificent: Qile even suspected that even in the face of the Primarch, Mesati would stick to her ideas without changing her expression.

This is not a good thing, especially when you need to convince her: unfortunately, Mesati is now within Qile's own area of ​​responsibility, which is a prerequisite for her to leave the control of Holy Terra and join the Great Crusade.

It is also the task entrusted to her by the seal holder.

Fortunately, this mission only needed to last until Mesati joined the 63rd Expeditionary Fleet of the Moon Wolves Legion and ended the moment she parted ways with her: Qile chose the 23rd Expeditionary Fleet of the Dawnbreaker Legion as her destination, and she had dreamt of her fate with it in dozens of wonderful dreams.

A fate that is intertwined with gold and silver.

Qi Le sighed inwardly, she put the barely functioning machine into her pocket, stood up with the help of Mesati, and patted the dust brought by the rocks beneath her: her numb calves were wrapped in thick military boots and jeans, and the black military jacket and white lining made her look more like a soldier taking a rest, rather than the object of pursuit of half the expedition fleet.

Yes, at least half the fleet.

Mesati witnessed everything with her own eyes: Ms. Qile's blonde hair and blue eyes made her suffer from the harassment of her colleagues on a daily basis. This was also the reason why she was willing to leave the palace with sunshade glass and automatic temperature control system prepared for narrators and choose to eat sand under the sun on the ruins of a construction site near the land port area.

Mesati admired this rationality, so she followed as well. It turned out to be an extremely correct decision: when the doors of the narrators' palaces were opened, allowing countless dignitaries to rush to the land port area, Qile and Mesati fell behind the crowd, discussing these pioneers in a contemptuous tone.

"Are we really going to let these people throw us off, Ms. Keeler?"

There was still some anxiety in Mesati's voice.

"The Primarchs are within sight. This is the first opportunity in the entire Council of Ullanor, or even the entire Great Crusade. Few people have been able to interview these demigods before, especially Lord Dorn. Terra's interest in him has been growing rapidly recently. If we..."

"Do you think you can convince Dorn? Or his honor guard?"

"Well...at least Horus..."

Mesati blinked, his black jade pupils sparkling with admiration: This young narrator had a special liking for Horus among the twenty primarchs. This was no secret among the narrator's team, because most people liked Horus.

"Lord Horus would never refuse our interview: his gentleness is well known to everyone."

“That depends on the environment.”

"Don't forget, no matter what, he is also known as the Wolf God."

Qile stretched out her arms, her snow-white skin gleaming faintly under the sun's corona.

"Look, Mesati."

"Officials, generals, nobles, and those gorgeously dressed, arrogant fellows among our colleagues have shown their behavior as early as a month ago: why should we associate with these people? Their recklessness is bound to anger the Primarch."

"Have a little patience: for your own sake."

"After all, there is no need for us to bear the wrath of these demigods for no reason."

Qile's voice was still soft, but the coldness in it made Mesati shiver under the scorching sun: she often doubted whether this old senior who guided her really possessed all the emotions that belonged to humans. Qile's actions and words often seemed to have long been out of their dimension, commenting on everyone from a high position, as if she and others were not the same kind of creatures, not the same race.

This made Mesati feel very uncomfortable.

She obeyed Qile's words, slowed down their pace, and waited by the main road that could allow an entire legion to advance side by side: in the next ten days or so, countless elite troops of the Human Empire would proudly march through this broad road opened up with giant engines and movable rock burners to receive the inspection of the Supreme Emperor and the Primarchs.

That would be a legendary scene.

"It is said that the Mechanical Priests completed the base in just a few weeks."

Mesati wiped the sweat off her face. The nearby torch made her feel bored: it was a pillar made of giant orc skulls, the same enemies that had left a deep impression on the human expeditionary force during the Ullanor War: their skin and flesh had been washed off, and braziers filled with smokeless promethium were installed on the savage skulls, burning with bright blue and white flames that would continue for dozens of days and nights without any signs of stopping.

Thousands of victory torches like this were erected, stretching from one end of the skyline to the other: the main road where the parade was to be held almost cut the entire Ullanor Prime in half vertically, and there was a torch every three or five steps. This was the best way to show off the huge number of enemies killed by the human expeditionary force on the Ullanor front.

"It is said that they left behind millions of greenskin corpses for this purpose, cut off their heads for other purposes, and then buried the bodies and the remains of the orc palace in the valley-like rift: the iron needle of the Mechanicus cut a hole in the land of Ullanor, and then easily sewed it up. Above this rift is the main road used to review the army."

Mesati tells this story from not long ago like a little girl, marveling at the miraculous construction process that she cannot witness with her own eyes. The atmosphere of joy lingers around her so thickly that it is almost visible to the naked eye: just like every narrator in this world.

"Can you imagine, Lady Keele? All nineteen legions will participate in this review ceremony. Those legendary warriors will appear in our camera. The shadows of Titans and warships will be exciting to the point of madness. But the most important thing is not these: when I think that I have the opportunity to take pictures of all the Primarchs in the same photo, I feel that my life so far has been a success."

"I've lived my life for this day."

Mesati stroked her lips: she then realized that her fingers were shaking.

"A work that can contain all the Primarchs, and may even contain the Emperor. Whether it is a photo, a painting, or a record of an eyewitness, it is destined to be immortal along with the entire Great Crusade. Perhaps even ten thousand years later, countless people in the galaxy will compete for the work I left behind."

"I will be immortal: with all this."

"Aren't you excited?"

"I've already been excited."

Qi Le was standing there, but it seemed as if she was separated from the whole world by a thick barrier. She looked at the distant airport without any sadness or joy: originally there was only the friction sound of mechanical operation, neat and monotonous, but now, with the figures of two teams of shuttles gradually approaching, the noise belonging to humans has come from behind.

Even though they were thousands of meters apart, Qile could still hear all kinds of people loudly asking to enter the port area. Most of them were recorders, madmen who had walked out of Holy Terra. They had all kinds of gorgeous titles in their own small circles, and they all thought they were some great people. They waved their badges and identity certificates, all wanting to show their uniqueness, but the voices of the guards overwhelmed everyone else: these were just the mortal forces sent by the Imperial Guards. The Astartes who were actually responsible for the guards did not even bother to speak to disperse the mortals in front of them. They were fully focused on the shuttle that was gradually landing.

First there was an excited shout, followed by a sound wave like the ocean waves, which made Qi Le frown and cover her ears.

"Ok."

She snorted disdainfully.

"It seems the Primarchs have arrived."

Ten minutes later, two figures as tall as iron towers gradually emerged at the edge of Qile and Mesati's vision. Their iconic height and god-like aura clearly demonstrated their noble status: Horus and Dorn were walking along the main road, preparing their offspring to experience the grand military parade that would officially begin in a dozen days.

What is surprising is that these two meritorious generals are not wearing armor. The Wolf Shepherd God is wearing a casual suit. The material of the clothes seems to be leather or metal, but the iconic huge wolf skin is still on. He just hangs a ceremonial sword on his waist, and a formulaic smile remains on his broad face: This seems to explain why the Primarchs arrived here so slowly.

Beside him, the Lord of the Imperial Fist was obviously not as open-minded as his brother: Dorn chose to keep his ceremonial armor, but still kept himself fully armed. His eyes stayed on the road and buildings from beginning to end, like a security guard rather than a primarch. When Horus noticed the two ladies waiting by the roadside and waved and greeted them with a smile, Dorn still needed his brother to pat him on the shoulder to remind him before he grudgingly gave him a glance.

Despite this, the two Primarchs did not stop their pace. Even the gentle Horus only greeted them and returned to his conversation with Duo: Mesati was obsessed with their godly demeanor, while Qile's attention was diverted to another aspect. When the Emperor's children began to turn their backs to them, Mesati, who had just come to her senses, also noticed Qile's gaze.

She looked in the direction and was surprised to find those names that also existed in the legend: when the light of the Primarchs faded slightly, the people behind them were equally conspicuous. Although the two Primarchs did not bring too many guards, only more than ten people in total, but each member of them was famous.

"Oh my God."

Mesati shook her head, and she recited countless legends.

"Look at them."

"Sigismund, Sejanus, Torgaddon, or Abaddon: I have seen a statue of Abaddon on Hosta before. It was the best statue I have ever seen. There is not a single statue of Horus in that entire sector, but every world commemorates Abaddon."

(As one of the three great men of the Great Crusade, Abaddon is even more famous than his Primarch on some conquered worlds.)
"and many more……"

Before he could even finish his exclamation, Mesati suddenly frowned.

"Who is that man? He is so close to the Four Kings Council."

"It seems his name is Locke."

Qile recalled.

"Captain of the Tenth Company: Word is that he will soon be offered a better post."

"Is it……"

Mesati nodded.

"He gives people a very strange feeling."

……

"I think so."

Loken nodded and withdrew his gaze from the two mortal women, then noticed that Torgarten was smiling at him: This smile made Loken feel helpless, because Torgarten was the person who gave him the most headaches in the Council of Four Kings.

It’s not that this humorous captain has any bad habits, he just likes to tease everyone, and the more serious the person is, the more he likes to tease them: in the past, the victim was little Horus, but now the fire is concentrated on Loken.

"Do you know them?"

The smile on Torgathon's face made Locke believe that if he hesitated for even a moment, some bad rumors would surround him.

"No, it's my first time seeing them: Are they in the same group as those people from Xinggang?"

"Narrator?"

"probably."

Abaddon, who was walking in front, did not look back, his voice was muffled.

"But these two at least have some points: I want to draw my sword against the ones in Star Harbor."

"Don't be so angry, Abaddon."

"This is a normal emergency mechanism. It is hard to imagine that a guy like this will be incorporated into our expeditionary fleet immediately. It is said that it will be assigned to every battleship and company. I can already foresee a future of being annoyed to death. Did you hear that word from their mouths?"

Abaddon tilted his head and gnashed his teeth as if chewing an orc.

"A special interview?"

"Might as well kill me: I'd rather die than let them into my personal chamber."

"What about you, Lorcan?"

The First Captain's mumbling did not attract Torgaddon's attention, so he passed the question to the Tenth Captain: The word "interview" also made Loken stiff for a moment. When he thought about his private space being invaded by these mortals, he felt no better than Abaddon.

especially……

Locke turned his head again. Their team was about to leave the two lonely female recorders behind. His gaze stayed on the two of them for a last moment: specifically, on the shorter woman with shiny dark skin.

"Mesati."

He whispered the name: a conversation between two female recorders brought by the breeze.

Locke secretly memorized the name.

He'll have to stay away from now on.

after all……

For some reason, from the moment he saw Ms. Mesati, Locke felt a strong sense of uneasiness in his heart: it was as if his intuition was warning him.

This lady would cause him trouble: great trouble.

(End of this chapter)