Emperor's Bane

Chapter 688 Warmaster
Your eyes passed silently, and Leman Russ's carefree smile was still familiar: he seemed to get along well with Angron, and the two were discussing something. You didn't dare to keep your eyes on Russ for too long, after all, the relationship between you was always a little awkward.

And you know, Leman Russ is a very clear-headed guy. He won't hide anything else in his heart. The reason why he chose Jonson as the Warmaster has been made clear to you a long time ago. In a sense, he is actually very similar to that Caliban man.

They won't change.

Your gaze gradually calmed down and met Vulkan's. The Lord of Fire Dragons was always reassuring. He did not choose to dress up, still wearing the dark green armor. He was the brother who was most excited about your becoming the Warmaster so far. He clenched his fists and gently patted his chest. You responded with a smile that was completely from the heart.

It's great to have a brother like this: the friendship that Vulcan gives you is priceless.

You smiled, but the next brother made your smile a little stiff: Perturabo still maintained his habit of opposing Dorn on trivial matters. The Lord of the Imperial Fist stood at the eleven o'clock position, and he arrogantly occupied the five o'clock position, standing like a marble sculpture.

If it weren't for the fact that he wasn't wearing a helmet, revealing his face underneath, Perturabo would have been almost the same as the intelligent robots you saw in the past few days, appearing on his behalf: his techniques were becoming more sophisticated, but they still gave people a sense of creepiness.

After all, those things are too much like humans...

The Lord of Olympia looked at you and forced out a fairly friendly smile. He showed no sadness or joy about your becoming the Warmaster. It could be considered a reluctant acquiescence: you couldn't help but think of what he said, the declaration of ascending to the summit of the gods, and you were very interested in it.

You are certain that the Emperor is aware of Perturabo's ambitions, but he has not offered any response: in your brief conversation with the Lord of Steel, his theories do fascinate you to some extent.

Discover your true power?

Maybe... this will be effective.

You have to admit that you are moved by it.

However, you will soon face a practical difficulty: that is, the tracing of the essence mentioned by Perturabo will almost certainly revolve around the warp, and you are not experts in psychic power. Among the brothers, only Morgan and Magnus' opinions are valuable.

Of the two of them: Magnus was undoubtedly the better talker.

Of course, Morgan is the best choice.

But you and her lack the basis for cooperation.

As for Magnus...

You turned your head and came to the other side of the clock. The tall King of Prospero stood farthest away from the Emperor and his brothers, admiring himself. His smile when he looked at you was perhaps the purest, and he dressed himself the most fancy.

Second only to Fulgrim: After all, the Phoenix stands closely with Ferrus. Compared with the ugly Gorgon, the carefully dressed Chemos is naturally more beautiful than the others: you even think that Fulgrim has more feminine features than Morgan.

Although both of them are equally beautiful, Morgan gives you a more pleasing feeling, with a kind of temperament and grace that makes you feel relaxed and happy. She is the kind of person that you would be willing to have a long talk with or make friends with even if you erase her gender. As for Fulgrim, it is even more...

Hmm... unrestrained?
You politely turn your gaze away from the three brothers. They are so familiar to you that you don't even need to think about more things related to them. The same is true for Luo Jia in front of you: the paths of these brothers have long been determined and cannot be changed. There may be some differences in the details, but outsiders can no longer change the general direction.

Let them do their own thing, and the people you care more about are in the front.

You instinctively straighten your chest and walk over slowly with a proud look. The four brothers you trust most are there looking at you with smiles: It is a blessing to witness Sanguinius, Jaghatai Khan, Dorn and Mortarion in the same place, so close to each other.

The four brothers were dressed no differently than usual, except for Chagatai Khan, who was dressed more formally. Just as your descendants described, he did find a long robe to wear.

This is the traditional dress of the Chogoris, worn only on solemn occasions. In your heart, you are secretly grateful to the Khan, because you know what a huge sacrifice it is for him to wear such clothes that make his movements inconvenient: he is the Primarch of the White Scars, and his legion is a group of speed worshipers who would regard wearing Terminator armor as a punishment.

(The honor guard of Chagatai Khan is called the Keshig, which is divided into the Gold and Black teams. The Gold Keshig wears fine power armor and rides jet motorcycles. In a sense, they are the real Primarch Guards, while the Black Keshig are more like the criminals' prison legion. Although they wear Terminator armor, it is like the red gloves of the Night Lords, a symbol of internal punishment in the legion.)
The Khan is staring at you seriously. He is one of the few participants who takes this ceremony very seriously: although he is also the one who takes these ceremonies the least among all the people present, the friendship between you determines that Chagatai Khan will always regard your affairs as more important than his own thoughts.

You know, this is a heavy trust and friendship. Sometimes, you feel it is suffocating you. The trust and friendship of the prairie eagle are not free. Whenever his oath is betrayed, the counterattack of the prairie man will surely make anyone unforgettable for a lifetime.

Isn’t the Khan’s solemnity at this time a silent oath?

Next to the serious Khan, the angel looked nonchalant and particularly relaxed: You know, the Emperor originally wanted Sanguinius to hold the red pad in Morgan's hand, but it was obvious that Sanguinius successfully made this difficult task fall on the head of his beloved blood sister.

The angel's calmness seemed to have irritated Mortarion who was standing beside him. The Lord of Barbarus kept a tense expression on his face the whole time, except for when he looked at you and nodded and smiled from the bottom of his heart. For most of the rest of the time, Mortarion's eyes were fixed on the Lord of Mankind: this made him and Dorn beside him seem a little tense.

You felt a little amused: you knew better than anyone that Mortarion was the one among the Primarchs who was most dissatisfied with the establishment of the title of Warmaster, and he hated being your subordinate in status, but personal friendship prevented him from resenting you, so he instead transferred more of his resentment to the Emperor.

Mortarion is such a person. He helps his relatives and not others. He is your most reliable helper.

On the other hand, even though he was in tense friction with the Lord of Death, Dorn still found time to express his respect to you: You remember that after the news of your becoming the Warmaster came out, Ron came to you specifically and simply bumped fists with you for this good news.

Perhaps to outsiders, such celebrations may seem insincere, but you know very well that Dorn's fist bump is like a hearty laugh to him: he is truly happy for your victory from the bottom of his heart.

He is your truest brother, but like the Khan, Dorn is the one to whom you have made your heaviest oath, and violating his trust can have consequences even worse than the Khan.

You hope you don't make this mistake.

You see, these four are your true supporters: if you really intend to exercise the power of Warmaster one day, perhaps strengthening their legions and their strength is the best choice for all of you.

After all, who knows who your enemies will be in the future?
Thoughts like these draw your attention to the Chief of the Custodes, Valdor.

Your eyes met with his for a moment, sparks of collision flew between them, and then they quickly looked away. Both of you felt the unreserved hostility and vigilance in each other's hearts: the spokesperson of the Ten Thousand Guards was standing behind your father, very close to Malcador, representing the attitude of the Golden Guard.

Their direction seems to be dangerous?

You are not too worried, because you know that loyalty may be the only commendable quality of these bodyguards, and the Sigillite does not have the ability to let the Imperial Guards rebel against the Emperor: what you are really worried about is that these Golden Guards of the Emperor are too naive, or even stupid.

What if they are bewitched? When you, the sons of the lineage, are away on the front lines of the Great Crusade, the Custodes are the only last line of defence for the Emperor against Malcador. If the Sigillite can unite these forces, then everything on Terra will get out of control.

Then you won’t even have time to serve the king: curse the world’s low communication efficiency.

Unless... unless Dorn can...

Maintain more initiative.

You glanced at the Master of the Imperial Fist again.

With the Legion and the Phalanx in hand, you are not completely powerless against the Imperial Guards: as long as Dorn has a plan in mind, he will be able to control the scene as soon as the strange changes happen on Terra, and it won't be long before your army of loyalists will rush back.

The Imperial Fists' defense is renowned throughout the galaxy, and they will surely be able to hold out until then.

Maybe you should talk to him sometime.

but not now.

You raised your head, trying to smile more naturally, the long speech in your mind was just a blink of an eye, maybe your genetic father could see the worry in your heart: but at this moment, when you looked at each other again, he gave you only an overflowing sense of security.

You stand there, waiting for the preacher's lengthy sermon before you can walk to your genetic father: the ceremony of praising him is such a long affair that you feel maybe two hours or even longer have passed. Even your brothers are visibly impatient, but behind them, the dignitaries sitting in the audience are still very calm. The energy these mortal officials have for power and ceremony is truly amazing.

In your ears, the sacred music played again and again, but it was drowned out by the excited cheers of the soldiers outside the hall: you like to listen to these shouts from the heart, because you know that in addition to the cheers of these soldiers, everything in the ceremony has been predetermined, the current praise is one, and the thunderous applause that will appear later is also the same.

Compared to these magnificent and cumbersome things, the wild shouts of the Moon Wolf and other warriors are what you really need. The throne is above...

You knew how long the ceremony would take, but you couldn’t wait any longer.

Maybe your father is like this too.

Because you saw that just when the preacher had finished another long speech, took a few anxious breaths, and was about to turn to the next chapter impatiently, your father reached out and easily stopped him.

The prestige of the Lord of Mankind is so heavy in this empire he built with his own hands that he can change the entire plan process that the Ministry of the Interior of the empire has carefully considered at any time and anywhere: the person in charge of the seal behind him obviously took a few deep breaths and his face was gloomy, which made you feel truly happy.

You love the emperor's willfulness.

Especially for your wilfulness: only a loving father would do this for his child, and Malcador would never understand.

＋Come here, my child. ＋
Your father waves to you, and his distinct attitude is more convincing than the praises of the next few hours. As you step forward, you can feel that the eyes of most of your brothers looking at you have changed slightly, and those of the mortals are more obvious: they look at you with more awe, and for a moment, even the breathing sound in the hall has become much quieter.

Everything is deadly quiet: your footsteps seem to shake the earth.

You walk towards the Emperor until his glory fills every inch of your vision. You stop at this moment and kneel on one knee. Sanguinius and Jonson are on your left and right, Abaddon and Asmander are dragging your velvet cloak, and the Emperor is in front of you, with Morgan beside him: all of them are so serious, and their faces shine holiness in your eyes.

The Emperor stood in front of the throne which was one step higher than you, and he looked at you with a smile.

＋Horus, my child.＋
The sound was not loud, but everyone in the hall could definitely hear it clearly. You could see that even the bored Morgan had to sit up straight: because the Emperor was smiling, and no one had the right to disturb the joy of the Lord of Mankind at this moment.

+You are the first Lost Child I have met since leaving Terra. +
Your father's voice pulls you into the most beautiful times.

+ I have personally witnessed your growth, your transformation, every tiny bit of your learning and progress: you have grown into a child that I am proud of, and soon, you no longer need me to protect you from the wind and rain, you have become a general who can rule a region on your own, and you have become my most proud assistant in the Great Crusade. +
"It's my pleasure, Father."

Your voice was a little dry, but soon it was incredibly good: you glanced gratefully at Morgan who smiled at you.

There was silence in the hall, and everyone could easily feel the unique love in the Emperor's words: more than one Primarch's eyes were filled with jealousy, and you just endured them with peace of mind.

＋When I finished the last education I could give you, I watched you leave me and head for the stars to carry out your God-given mission: to guide your brothers, to command your legion, and to help me spread the glory of mankind to every land in the galaxy. ＋
+You have accomplished all this perfectly, my Horus, my wolf-shepherd god. Together we have expanded the empire's territory, and you are the one who has performed the most outstandingly among my generals. +
＋The most loyal one. ＋
＋The most persistent one. ＋
＋The most important one. ＋
+Therefore, I have decided to grant you my last and greatest wish.

The Emperor turned around, and Morgan beside him stepped forward at the right time, allowing the Lord of Mankind to smoothly pick up the golden crown that symbolized his supreme authority. In every corner of the hall, all the witnesses stood up spontaneously, the air was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop, and even the representatives of the Forge World forced their gears and parts to stop moving, bent down, and blessed this sacred ceremony.

＋Horus-Lupercal.＋
The emperor's voice was loud and clear, it was the intimacy between father and son, the trust between monarch and minister, it was the spark of kinship and affection.

+The Primarch of the Luna Wolves. +
"I am here, Emperor."

You responded loudly, and your voice echoed in the dome for a long time like thunder.

+From today on, I will put aside the expectations of the Great Crusade. I will no longer command a vast army across the galaxy. I will return to the palace of Holy Terra and begin to establish the eternal rule of mankind. +
＋For this reason, I entrust you with both the honor and the responsibility that rests on my shoulders. ＋
+ All Primarchs, all Astartes Legions, all Crusade Fleets, all Mortal Auxiliaries, all Imperial Worlds and Territories, all legitimate citizens and loyalists of human civilization: from this moment on, you will accept the honor of leading them, you will have the power to command him, every military force of the Great Crusade needs to obey your command, declare to his commanders and soldiers, your orders are my orders, your will is my will. +
＋But at the same time, you will also shoulder their lives and honor: their shame is your shame, their failure is your failure, you will be in the same boat with every brave warrior in the entire Great Crusade, and together you will shoulder the future of all mankind. ＋
+I can't imagine a heavier responsibility than this. +
The Emperor smiled at you, his last words coming from the heart.

+Tell me then, Horus. +
He stares at you: so serious.

+Are you ready to defend with your life and soul what we all bled and died for? +

You heard so much sorrow and sadness in these words. You raised your head almost without thinking, and stared at your genetic father, your Emperor with your huge eyes: your desire for honor and power completely disappeared at this moment. You just wanted to use everything you had, your strength and oath, to soothe even a trace of sadness in the Emperor's pupils.

You roared, making sure everyone on Ullanor could hear you.

"My pleasure, Father!"

"I swear: I will fight until the last moment of my life!"

“I’m going to live for this.”

"I will die for this."

"I will purge the galaxy of all evil! Let the empire's cause be eternal! Until you return to us!"

The emperor nodded, relief and a tear filling his face.

＋My child. ＋
＋My Horus. ＋
He raised his sights and announced loudly to everyone present.

+From this day forward: You! Horus-Lupercal! +

+This is my incarnation in the Great Crusade! +

+The protector of Holy Terra, the Empire, and humanity! +

+It is... the Warmaster of the Empire! +
Before he finished speaking, before the cheers that resounded throughout the universe began, you could feel the breath of your father's arm dropping. He seemed to be more eager than you to see: that strange, hard, noble, warmaster's crown that had once haunted your dreams, fell on your head without hesitation.

It's yours.

My father is saying this.

You hear everyone saying it.

You instinctively raised your head, wanting to feel its weight and to take another look at your genetic father, and it was this action that gave you a novel feeling: this was your first and most intuitive feeling about the title of Warmaster.

It's heavier than you think.

It is so heavy, it seems to weigh thousands of pounds.

So urgent, as if it is approaching at any moment.

Such a headache seems to pierce the soul.

------

It is undoubtedly a crown.

But it also feels like a...cage.

------

This strange feeling lingered for a long time.

In the confusion, you saw the Spider Queen's smile hidden in the shadows.

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(End of this chapter)