Emperor's Bane

Chapter 708: The Beginning of the Council of Nikea

"Hail to you, Lord of Mankind."

"At your command, I bring Magnus the Red, Primarch of the Thousand Sons and Lord of Prospero. He and his brood are here: ready to answer your call and hold you to account."

When the bronze gate guarding the heart of the mountain was slowly closed by the imperial guards who had followed them all the way, revealing the darkness and silence of a moment ago, Magnus had a vague feeling of being in another world, as if he had come to another world, and became at a loss like a newborn baby.

But time was not on his side. Magnus had no time to breathe, no time to observe, no time to have even the slightest impression of the magnificent new world behind the door: standing in the front of everyone, Sanguinius' tall and elegant announcement voice was already echoing on the curved surface of the Baroque dome.

Just by catching the moment when the echo was frustrated on the basalt wall, the Scarlet King was able to roughly guess what kind of magnificent palace he was standing in the center of: looking up, the Primarch's prediction was once again accurate, giving Magnus the last bit of confidence.

What caught his eyes was a magnificent hall that would have been the best in the imperial palace of Holy Terra: his Perturabo brothers might have invested most of their love and affection in this building that was destined to go down in history, allowing Nikea and their names to become immortal together.

Perhaps it took 30,000 Iron Warriors, at the command of one voice, to simultaneously lay down their weapons and grasp their excavation tools to open up such a new world inside the largest crater in all of Nikaea.

The olive-shaped ceiling is covered with colorful decorations and paintings, showing off the immortality and power of the human empire. The giant crystal chandelier is like the moon plucked from the sky, casting a shadow larger than that of a Titan. Thousands of tiny branches allow witnesses to feel the emptiness and silence of the midnight stars even on a hot volcanic world, and the light at the core makes the entire palace appear an attractive light gold color.

The towering gabled walls and Roman columns spread out like a spider web. Behind them was the biting cold wind that had been rampant on Nicaea for a long time but had been isolated by the exquisite craftsmanship of the Mechanicus. At the feet of the exquisite reliefs showing off the martial arts of the Empire was the top floor of the entire hall. The rest of the floor extended to the ground like stairs, and each floor formed the most perfect circle, carrying thousands of swaying names.

Each of these names is a king, with countless heart-breaking titles, able to turn the tide in their departments and kingdoms. They are both spectators and servants, but there is no doubt that no matter what conclusion will be reached on Nikea today, it will be up to these people to spread it to all corners of the empire.

Magnus quietly watched the rows of heads coming closer and closer, and suddenly realized something: Yes, this is the tallest ancient Greek amphitheater in the entire galaxy. Of course, it can also be understood as an ancient Roman arena that requires bloodshed to death.

That depends on what happens next.

The Primarch's eyes began to turn to reality: he discovered that the floor of the entire hall was made of a piece of natural black marble, without even the slightest crack. The only decoration on it was a golden, lifelike Imperial double-headed eagle.

At the heart of the double-headed eagle, there are two identical podiums facing each other, built exactly according to the original body's specifications: on the empty marble floor, these two plain podiums are so dazzling.

It was like two piles of weapons thrown on the sand before a gladiator match: the gladiators on both sides would arm themselves with rusty spears and armor as if they were rummaging through garbage, and then, amid the bloodthirsty cheers of the audience, they would use their lives and souls to please everyone.

Magnus sighed in his heart: thinking that in a dozen minutes, he would stand on one of the podiums and face the ignorance from the whole galaxy head-on, the Scarlet King felt a long-lost sense of fatigue: But isn't this the ultimate mission he was born to carry out? He had no reason to choose to retreat at this time.

The Primarch straightened his chest. His depression had fallen just as quickly as his ambition returned fiercely: as soon as the Archangel's words fell, Magnus had already followed the guidance of the double-headed eagle and looked at the final arbiter of the fate of everyone present.

There he was, at the forefront of the audience, sitting atop a pyramid-shaped building, with Malcador and Valdor standing on either side of him: the Lord of Mankind was fully armed, holding the sword that symbolized the Great Crusade, and the elite that symbolized the supreme authority of the Imperium of Mankind. Magnus had never seen his Gene-Father appear before him in such a serious and solemn manner.

Instinctively he bent his back again, his eyes quickly leaving the Emperor who was shining like the sun throughout the palace, and he looked around, looking at the honorable seats second only to the Emperor: the ordinary benches were mostly occupied by dignitaries and high-ranking officials whom he was too lazy to remember. Only the second-level thrones that were specially opened up were occupied by figures who looked familiar to the Primarch.

All his brothers, from Jonson to Alpharius, were present, divided into two opposing groups along the two platforms, but the atmosphere was not tense. Most of them just stood side by side in twos and threes, whispering in each other's ears that no one else could hear, or greeting each other with smiles.

He saw Jagatai Khan standing next to Horus, and the two of them nodded to him seriously; he saw a large area of ​​space marked out next to Jonson's seat, which was obviously reserved for Morgan and others beside him; he also saw the pitiful Leman Russ, who was sitting alone at the bottom of the stairs, ready to rush up and bite people at any time.

He saw Forge General Kalberhal and his closest bishops, who were perhaps the most indifferent of all the people present to what was happening. Magnus also noticed that Perturabo was standing side by side with the Forge General of Mars like close friends. The two of them seemed to be talking happily, and their tightly clasped hands had obviously reached some important agreement.

That was interesting, he had never heard that the Lord of Steel had any friends on Mars before.

The Primarch blinked, his eyes quickly sweeping over those who deserved his attention: the Imperial military lords, the commander-in-chief of the Mortal Auxiliary Army, and the admirals of the Imperial Navy all seemed unlikely to be on his side. Instead, the green-robed Chief of the Astronomican Court and the leaders of the Navigator family seemed worth winning over. The two groups of people were sitting very close to each other, right next to the seat reserved for the Spider Queen.

Obviously, his beloved Sister Avalon had brought him strong allies: Which governor who was loyal to Holy Terra would dare to disobey the wishes of the Star Whisper Court? Which marshal or admiral would dare to offend the usually silent Navigator family?
When they realize how huge and important the force represented by psychic power is, these fickle fence-sitters will make the right choice.

Confidence, boundless confidence began to devour Magnus's already not-so-cautious soul.

He cast a grateful glance at Morgan, but saw a hint in the Spider Queen's eyes. Only then did Magnus realize that his wandering gaze had been in a daze for too long: the Emperor's voice was summoning them, and the Primarch hurried to catch up with Sanguinius.

The Emperor only called out the names of a few people, including Magnus himself, Morgan, and then Mortarion. Guilliman, Konrad and others returned to their positions quietly: Morgan and Mortarion were on each side of Magnus, slightly behind him by half a body length, like guards responsible for guarding the Father of the Thousand Sons, but also like opponents ready to draw their swords at any time.

In an unusual calm, the four Primarchs stood at the foot of the pyramid, kneeling and saluting to the Lord of Humanity like subjects, and stood up again after receiving permission. Then, Sanguinius, who was in charge of the introduction, left, and he was replaced by Malcador, who slowly walked down from the pyramid while they were saluting.

The Sigillite held the scepter, a symbol of the Emperor's supreme majesty, in front of them, but to Magnus's surprise, Morgan and Mortarion did not step forward. They maintained an amazing tacit understanding: the Gene-Father of the Thousand Sons could only put his hand on the scepter alone.

"Magnus."

The Sigillite's voice sounded old, but the Primarch did not dare to defy him: he knew that Malcador was speaking for the Emperor.

"In front of everyone, are you willing to swear to respect the Emperor's final judgment, solemnly tell everything you have done, and accept the possible fate of you and your Legion: swear with your life to follow the Emperor's review and judgment of you on Nikaea forever."

"I swear: with my blood, my dreams, and my soul."

Magnus swore the oath without hesitation in his loudest voice, but in his heart, the King of Prospero frowned tightly: he knew that this oath was a necessary step, but why did these oaths from Malcador make him so uneasy?

It's as if he was put in the position of a sinner in advance?
Has the smear campaign against him by Mortarion and others reached this point?

Instinctively, Magnus looked towards the Lord of Death, but the next scene made him even more confused: Malcador had already walked up to Mortari and Morgan with the scepter in hand. These two blood relatives, who should have been incompatible, continued with their previous tacit understanding and placed their hands on the scepter tacitly.

"Morgan, Mortarion."

The palm bearer nodded.

"Are you willing to swear in front of all witnesses that every word and every opinion you will express in the following paragraphs are faithful and sincere, and are intended to bring eternal glory and happiness to mankind and the Empire: you will compete and debate fairly, equally obey the final decision of the Emperor, and willingly accept the final result of this meeting."

【certainly. 】

Morgan was the first to speak.

While the Barbarus was still pondering how to give his answer as seriously as possible, the Spider Queen, who was already familiar with this kind of small scene, had already put on her pure, seemingly inviolable smile: no one among the mortals present, or even most of the Primarchs, would doubt the sincerity in Morgan's words at this moment.

She made a promise seriously.

[I am willing to swear with all my loyalty and love to the Lord of Mankind, my friendship and protection to my brother Magnus, and my remembrance and remembrance of my adoptive parents who gave birth to me and raised me: I will do my best to follow any decision made by the Emperor and the Nikaea Council, so that my legion and descendants can get the honor and glory they have longed for from Holy Terra.]

As soon as these words were spoken, not only did the ignorant mortals stand in awe, but Magnus, with his eyes filled with emotion, threw away all his previous confusion and doubt. Even Mortarion, who was standing opposite Morgan, was filled with shock and confusion, but gave the Spider Queen a glance of approval with a hint of admiration.

"May your vows soon be as sincere as Magnus' wisdom."

Perhaps the only exception was the Sigillite in front of Morgan, who had a calm face. There was even a trace of strange pride on Malcador's face. He nodded, and his old tone was full of sarcasm that only Morgan himself could hear. Then, he turned his head to look at Mortarion, quietly listening to the oath that was as dry as Barbarus's.

"very good."

After doing all this, the Seal Bearer nodded and turned back to Magnus.

"Now, we can begin."

Then, he waved his hand, and three masked and hooded attendants suddenly emerged from behind the Sigillite, each leading a Primarch, and walked towards the audience seats on both sides: Morgan already had several brothers waiting for her, while Mortarion nodded to Leman Russ, and it seemed that they had already formed an alliance, and the seat next to the Wolf King was reserved for him.

Magnus was muttering in his heart about this despicable alliance of the Barbarian Kings, while searching his brain for confusion about the strange scenes just now, but at this moment, he suddenly realized that the servant in charge of leading him was not leading him to the direction of the audience seats: but directly to the podium in the center of the venue?

"How is this going?"

Then the Prosperos noticed that Malcador had not left: he was obviously watching him.

"This is the Emperor's first decree."

The old voice could not be rejected, for it smelled of the sun. Following Malcador's dry fingers, the Primarch could see that on the first floor of the audience on Morgan's side, a place had been opened up for the Primarch, and his descendants were waiting for him there. "You and your followers must stay there throughout the meeting."

"Opposite of Mortarion?"

The Primarch frowned in disgust.

"This is the Emperor's request."

The Sigillite's tone was so strong that Magnus felt like a suspect who was about to be sentenced to death.

"in addition."

The seal bearer added another sentence: and pointed his finger at the podium opposite.

"Before anything begins, Magnus of Prospero, you must remain at this podium: many people have requested to ask you questions before the debate begins. You must answer these questions until no one is standing on the podium opposite you. Then you can return to your place, and the other Primarchs will begin to express their respective opinions."

"what is this?"

Magnus snorted coldly, not noticing how hideous his face looked.

"Should I put up with the minions they send out before I can confront my brothers?"

"Many of the mortals who ask you questions do so out of genuine confusion and panic."

"I have no obligation to answer them."

"But you have a duty to make your position on these issues heard by the Emperor and everyone."

Malcador refused to give in, not even to soften his tone: Magnus felt his fists clench, he had never felt that the old man before him could be so annoying as he was now.

"Well, I will do it: solely in fulfilment of the Emperor's command and my oath."

Magnus squeezed out his words from between his teeth.

Then, he threw away his arms, ignoring the attendants and Malcador beside him, and walked to the podium with a determined face like a hero rushing to the execution ground: This was not the first time that the Primarch stood on the podium, but this time it gave people a particularly shocking feeling.

Magnus even felt that he couldn't even describe his current situation in words.

Because the podium was facing away from the auditorium where Morgan and the others were, he could not see any of his friends and supporters: he could not see the faces of Morgan and Guilliman, the representatives of the Astronomican and the Navigators, or the worry in the eyes of the Thousand Sons who were trapped in their positions.

All he could see was malice and stupidity.

He saw Mortarion and Leman Russ standing closest to him, with contempt and hatred on their faces. He saw the mortals who were deceived by the rumors, staring at him as if he were a monster, whispering about his notoriety: wizard, tyrant, necromancer, vicious criminal, monster that eats men and women alive...

He saw those brothers who didn't know him well or were prejudiced against him: the smile on Alpharius' face was so mysterious and disgusting, Ferrus was like a statue isolated from the world, the smile of the wolf god seemed to comfort him but was so weak, and Chagatai Khan on the side was perhaps the only kindness he could feel at this moment, but compared with the purity of the past, this kindness had a bit more disturbing silence.

Looking to the left, the Emperor's dazzling light made it impossible to open one's eyes, while on the right, the darkness behind the bronze gate was cold but not completely sealed outside, and was corroding people's flesh. The rustling private whispers bit the silence deep in the brain like mosquitoes, and the noisy sound of the Sigillite flipping through the speech made the Primarch feel inexplicably irritated.

relax.

Magnus said to himself.

What you can do: It's just a counterattack by some mediocre people who are huddling together for warmth.

You have friends, you have comrades, and you will achieve a clean victory.

You will return victorious and your name will go down in history.

Magnus closed his eyes: fleeting fragments of memory washed over his mind.

Morgan's face looked strange.

An abnormal number of brothers came to greet him.

That long, strange passage that shouldn't be so dark.

The scepter that Malcador held, and the oath that anyone with a discerning eye could sense were not right.

The Emperor's gaze.

Mortarion smiled with confidence.

The anxiety and throbbing in my heart.

And for some reason, that spell was suddenly forgotten by him.

He hasn't thought about it yet.

And here and now...

Standing here, at a loss, any ant could attack him, but his opponents could sit in the audience, as if they were of higher status than him, as if everyone present was of higher status than him.

As if they were all right and they did not need to be blamed.

And he was wrong.

Is he the accused...culprit...?

【…】

Magnus was silent.

the first time.

For the first time in my life.

He felt that even his own words of comfort to himself were becoming less reassuring.

"Let's get straight to the point."

With trembling fingers, he heard Malcador slowly pronounce the first name.

"Then, the first person who applied to speak to Magnus and everyone, now, please stand opposite Magnus and express your opinions and questions to us: I need to introduce your name and identity to everyone."

"Captain of the First Company of the Fourteenth Legion, Primarch Mortarion."

"Karas-Typhon."

(End of this chapter)