Emperor's Bane

Chapter 689 The Days of Horus

Chapter 689 The Days of Horus (3/3)

"So you tampered with the crown, didn't you?"

"Don't try to deceive me. I can feel the psychic energy inside the real gold. You know, the psychic energy of each of us psychics is unique, and now, only your psychic energy is entangled with it."

"What do you want to do, Morgan?"

[Nothing: just releasing a little love for my brothers.]

When the Lord of Mankind loudly announced to everyone present that his most beloved son would become the warmaster of the entire Great Crusade, this hall that housed countless elites of the empire, the steel platform that supported it, and the parade square surrounding it, all fell into a carnival of cheers and applause.

Salutes to the Emperor and his new Warmaster rose from all directions and echoed across the universe. The martial music chosen by the Lord of Mankind for his children filled the air just right. Cannons sounded and flags flew: it seemed as if the glory and joy of the entire Great Crusade had to be fully released at this moment.

The cheers of millions of people made the crust of Ullanor begin to tremble: among them were the descendants and followers of Horus, who were proud from the bottom of their hearts that their Primarch had reached the pinnacle of the gods; there were also loyal servants of the Emperor, who were using this simplest means to agree with the order just issued by the Lord of Mankind; and there were also flatterers who had been ready for a long time, accurately calculating the time they needed to pay tribute, and they were even more punctual than the Astartes warriors.

But apart from that, the majority of the applause came from the larger crowd of onlookers, who were loyal to the Emperor and bore no malice towards Horus. They cheered simply to celebrate the fact that they were able to witness such a landmark historical event in the Imperium of Man: the number of onlookers was unexpectedly large, perhaps most of the Primarchs and Astartes were among them.

Morgan was naturally no exception, and she also knew that the Seal Holder, who was sitting behind her, huddled in the shadow of the Emperor and the Guards, motionless like an old monk in meditation, certainly belonged to this category: but the richness of the psychological activities deep in their hearts at this moment was still far beyond the imagination of others.

Almost at the moment when the Emperor placed the laurel wreath on Horus' head, the Sigillite's questioning voice also came to Morgan's mind, which undoubtedly disturbed her: this made the Spider Queen look a little irritated, and she could not concentrate on witnessing this historic moment.

For this reason, Morgan's answer can be said to be quite insincere.

When she pursed her lips, creating two dimples on her snow-white face, pretending to be happy for her brother Horus, and then glanced at Malcador nonchalantly: the moment when the Sigillite could hardly control her expression was happily taken by the Primarch.

The next warning was even more fierce.

"I'm asking you, Morgan."

The Seal Bearer's voice was calm: a calm that made one break out in a cold sweat.

【What's wrong? 】

The Primarch's brows twitched: She admitted that she had many reasons, mainly to vent her dissatisfaction with being forced to perform corvée, so she did tamper with Horus's beloved crown a little, but this was not enough to make the Sigillite so serious.

Is this old man entering menopause?

Yes, she admitted that this symptom was more common in biological females: just like herself in the past, but on second thought, anyone who stayed with her great genetic father for many years should be able to more or less dig out the "female" in their hearts.

and so……

"Put away your evil thoughts."

Feeling the increasingly rude gaze coming from Morgan, Malcador's face looked as ugly as if Fulgrim had discovered Ferrus sneaking into Horus' bedroom: he maintained the stiffness of a sculpture, but continued to wield the whip of psychic energy, pressing the edge of the Primarch's soul bit by bit.

"For the last time, I'm serious about this, Morgan: What on earth did you do with that crown?"

[I know, I know: I will tell you now. ]

The Primarch was a little impatient. She casually glanced in the direction of Jonson and Conrad, only to see the Caliban man expressionlessly letting his two giant palms fight each other there. His applause sounded like a pair of old leather boots clacking on a freshly mopped floor.

Fortunately, Horus was able to respond to him with a smile in this situation. She is indeed a top-notch housekeeper who can become a warmaster.

Compared with Jonson, the Midnight Haunter next to him seemed much more enthusiastic: if Morgan had not seen with his own eyes Conrad quietly put a few of his fingers into his mouth, and then let out a sharp whistle, blending into the solemn military music.

【…】

The Emperor's silent comments came faintly to the side of his head.

# Conrad's mother, how do you teach your children manners? #

This kid deserves a beating.

Go home and give him a good beating.

Morgan spat in his heart, then explained it in a few words.

[Listen up, Malcador: the short version is that I had a long discussion with Conrad long ago, when we were dealing with Angron, and he told me some classics of ancient Terran literature about the Butcher's Nail.]

[He said that in a Terran book he accidentally read, there was a description of a method of admonition and punishment: the superior would put a precious golden hoop on the head of his subordinates. If the subordinates offended the superior, the superior could use words or other means to make the golden hoop tighter and tighter as a punishment.]

This kind of criminal law...

"That's called the Tightening Curse, little one."

Even though the Master had covered his entire face with a hood, Morgan could still clearly sense that Malcador had given him a cold look: the Master's expression was as if he was looking at an ignorant elementary school student.

This old bastard...

Morgan muttered, and Malcador's questions followed.

"So you're saying: you put a tight ring on Horus's Warmaster's wreath?"

[That's about right. Whenever our Warmaster Horus gets angry, the crown will shrink a little, but it won't affect him physically or mentally at all, and it will return to its original state in a short time. Besides, he wouldn't be so childish as to wear this useless olive leaf all day long, right?]

The seal bearer remained suspiciously silent.

"Are you sure you didn't use any other means?"

【What are you thinking about? 】

Morgan choked unhappily.

[Look at the biased father I am standing next to: if I dare to have a little twist in Horus's things, my dear gene father will kick my size L ass with his size 200 shoes.]

+...+
Amid the continued applause, the Lord of Mankind's gaze drifted silently over again, but this time it quickly drifted back: the Emperor first nodded in the direction of Malcador, reluctantly assuring Morgan, and then turned away impatiently, walking towards Horus.

The newly appointed Warmaster needs to accept the cheers of all the warriors in the square.

Morgan certainly knew this: after all, all the procedures of the ceremony so far were handled by her and Malcador, and all the honors and touching moments that the Wolf God had received today were within their plan.

But even so, there are still two things beyond Morgan's control.

The first was: when she witnessed with her own eyes that Horus accepted such honor, enjoyed the Emperor's understandable favor, and enjoyed the cheers that everyone deserved, deep in Morgan's heart, without her own attention, acid rain quietly fell on the solid soil of her soul.

This piece of pure land that she had fought so hard for is no longer pure.

It wasn't just her: most of the Primarchs present must have felt the same way. Although they had long anticipated everything that Horus would enjoy, when things really happened before their eyes, when they truly realized how unfair something that was originally fair was to them, even the most open-minded Primarch would probably grumble in his heart.

Morgan felt even more heavy-handed than her unwitting brothers: after all, she had designed the ceremonies herself, and had warned the Emperor time and again that showing such partiality in front of all his children was by no means a good thing for the relationship between him and his Primarch.

But the Lord of Mankind insisted on doing so. He chose to back down on any other issues, those issues that Morgan thought were more important. However, because of his love for Horus, the Emperor used his power forcefully to veto his daughter and his Prime Minister: compared with this insistence, these things in front of him were nothing.

Morgan shook her head secretly, the bitterness in her heart only lasted for a moment, but the distortion in the hearts of some people present might not be eliminated in just a few dozen or a hundred years: look at Mortarion over there, even if he is Horus's true buddy, but now, the Lord of Death's sharp eyes when looking at the Wolf God and the Emperor walking side by side, still looked very wrong.

"!"

In addition to being angry, Mortarion also found Morgan staring at him. After all, the Spider Queen did not hide: At first, the Lord of Death was stunned for a moment. He seemed to have never thought that his fleeting anger could be caught by others. After all, he was a marginal figure among the brothers. In the past, no one had ever specially supervised him. After a moment of silence, even greater anger rose because of this rudeness.

But Morgan didn't give him a chance: the Spider Queen just smiled and nodded, then whispered something to the Lord of Death with her lips across the noisy crowd and the air.

【I can understand. 】

Then, without waiting for Mortarion's reaction, Morgan withdrew her gaze: However, she clearly saw that the Lord of Death's anger stagnated because of this inexplicable understanding, but it would not last too long. However, Morgan's departure meant that he was destined to have no one to vent his anger on.

I don’t know how angry he would be: what a poor little guy.

The Primarch chuckled inwardly: she found that the longer she accompanied the other Primarchs, the harder it was for her to hate her brothers. Even Mortarion, whom she had regarded as an enemy in the past, after just three or four contacts with him, she could not help but discover his lovable qualities, respectable merits and pitiful fatal flaws.

Compared to the truly terrible things in this galaxy, even the Lord of Death isn't bad, is he?

Morgan snorted softly, cursing her increasingly fragile defenses, but her smile froze at the fastest speed the moment she turned back to look at the Sigillite: because Malcador had pulled down his hood at some point and was staring at Morgan's face with a serious expression.

This was the second point that confused the Spider Queen in this ceremony.

【Why are you so serious? 】

Before he knew it, Morgan's voice had become serious.

【That was a joke, Malcador.】

"I know."

The Sigillite nodded, staring at Morgan at a strange angle.

Specifically: staring at the empty space behind Morgan.

"I know you, Morgan: that's why I'm so worried."

The seal holder hesitated to speak: this question also puzzled him.

"So, I mean..."

"Don't you really feel that the crown carries another aura?"

【What? 】

Morgan raised her eyebrows and turned to look at the Wolf Shepherd God who was walking side by side with the Emperor, staring at his smooth forehead. The olive laurel wreath made of pure gold was meticulously carved and magnificent. Even if it was placed in the treasury of the Lord of Mankind, it would be a work of art that could be shown off: and there was indeed only her psychic aura on it?
With caution in mind, the Spider Queen checked it two or three times as usual, and even raised her hand, stretched out her strength, and touched or even picked up the psychic energy on the crown again. No problems occurred during the process.

【I don’t think there is any problem.】

After repeated checks, Morgan turned to look at the Sigillator: Malcador had already walked to her side, his brows were almost twisted together without any trace of joking, and he was staring at the receding figures of the Emperor and the Wolf God.

"Actually, so am I."

He nodded, very unwillingly admitting the failure.

"Now it seems that I don't feel there is anything wrong with the crown."

"but……"

The seal bearer hesitated.

"Just now, when the Emperor took the crown from your hands, neither of you paid attention to the crown, but I accidentally glanced at the crown with my soul. Originally, it was just a routine check for safety reasons, so I didn't observe the crown too carefully."

“But that one sweep…”

Malcador took a deep breath and whispered something that even he had to be careful about before broaching.

"I always feel like I see some other aura entwined with that laurel wreath."

[Is it the Emperor's? ]

Morgan proposed a hypothesis.

"Do not."

The seal bearer shook his head.

Then, his face turned pale and he gave Morgan an answer with his eyes.

He looked behind Morgan.

Looking at the empty space where no one existed: the rustling sounds coming from the depths of the warp could only be barely perceived by the greatest and craziest psykers.

“It is [His].”

【…】

The Spider Queen got goosebumps in an instant.

[Are you... sure? ]

That's impossible: she had checked that thing over and over again.

“It’s more than just confirmation.”

Macador sighed. He looked very tired, and the next sentence was almost forced out of him.

“It’s [Him], that’s right.”

"But I also feel..."

"It's like yours, Morgan."

【…】

Just a few words made Spider Woman feel dry in the mouth.