Emperor's Bane

Chapter 723: Tzeentch's Chapter

"And now, my Lords, I beg of your innate wisdom to allow me to speak a moment longer."

When the red Magnus clenched his five fingers into a fist and struck them on the golden chain mail hung with feathers and gems, he could clearly hear the last trace of weakness in his turbulent heart, until it completely disappeared.

The Primarch saluted the Emperor and Malcador, and saluted everyone present, whether they were his most respected brothers or those mortals whom he despised in his heart: he did his best to maintain his gentlemanly demeanor, so that everyone could feel his sincerity and wisdom.

"I would like to swear to you and beg you to give me one last chance: you will not hear any new long speeches, and I have no intention of arguing with anyone here again. I just want to explain the truth to you and tell you what the world really looks like."

"Believe me, my Lords, and ask yourselves here: when you stand in this scene that is destined to go down in history, ready to use your sacred vote and power to decide the fate of countless psykers and millions of civilized worlds in the galaxy, you should at least listen fairly to the words from both sides of the debate."

"For no other reason than to restore the truth of the matter as much as possible, and to exercise your power without being deceived or misled by others. Everyone present here is an elite who is respected and cared for by the Emperor and who jointly governs the entire human empire with him. You have the power to take action after knowing all the truth."

“And this is also your obligation.”

As soon as he finished speaking, Magnus bowed deeply again to express his respect to hundreds of ignorant mortals: the Lord of Prospero had been so humble for a long time, or rather, he had never been so humble before, but now, the Primarch had to use this most primitive means to impress the hundreds of cold and greedy hearts in front of him.

Everything went well: at least most of the audience was interested and willing to continue listening.

Magnus breathed a silent sigh of relief: he had no choice.

As the King of Prospero lowered his brows, a moment of shame twisted the demigod's face: he could feel the silent mockery of his despicable brother and the concerned look of Ahriman behind him.

It was really strange: because the latter made Magnus feel more hurt than the former, and the Primarch could only be thankful that after he realized what was happening here, he used all his authority and ordered every Thousand Sons warrior to stay in the legion's camp.

His children could not and should not bear the shame with him here. This was a father's responsibility. But Ahriman was a different case. Although he still regarded Magnus as his father, the Primarch knew that he had no right to wield the stick of paternal authority in front of his already independent children.

Ahriman is not only his child, but also his partner in the pursuit of knowledge, an ally and helper on an equal footing with him: he must be clearly aware of this, recognize and respect Ahriman's independent thinking, and his voluntary choice to help the Thousand Sons Legion.

At least when he was calm, the Primarch was able to make this correct judgment.

And he also needs this help.

Magnus straightened up and responded to the gaze of the Lord of Death with a faint smile. Mortarion's eyes were as fierce as a razor. The brotherhood they had on Ullanor had been torn to pieces by his own hands: no, all that must have been his disguise, and the current Mortarion was his true self.

He has always been so ugly.

Magnus frowned in disgust.

He had to admit that Mortarion's sneer made him feel uneasy: if Magnus was as confident as he had shown in front of Amon when he first arrived in Nikaea; and when Guilliman and Ahriman fought for him on the field, the Primarch's heart was only shaken for a moment.

Now, as he went over everything in his mind, as Mortarion smugly laid out all his plans in the shadows, facing the Emperor of Mankind who showed no sadness or joy, and the Palace of Nikaea which seemed solemn and lonely compared to before, Magnus finally felt fear.

A long lost fear.

He might lose: for the first time the Primarch seriously considered the possibility.

But: so what?
No matter what he thought, he no longer had any way out. The possibility of a last-ditch attempt at compromise also disappeared along with Mortarion's vicious declaration: his witch hunter brothers wanted him dead, and there would be no future of peace between them.

It was ridiculous that everyone had been fooled by Mortarion: Nikaea would not be a fair debate at all. This miraculous building standing in the volcano was just an arena for the public execution of Magnus. They were like the mobs in ancient Rome. Before executing the great sage, they watched him fight ferocious beasts and satisfied their wild desires with tears and blood.

And the Lord of Death in Barbarus is the mastermind behind all this, and he will also be the first person to have his thumb turned upside down: Magnus only feels that he has become a gladiator in those great tragedies. No matter how bravely he fights, no matter whether his skills are cheered and applauded by the audience, the only thing that can truly determine his fate is the upside-down turning of the thumb in the VIP seat.

Upward is life, downward is death.

There was no such thing as a fair duel or victory of truth. All results depended solely on that pair of noble eyes, which had been corrupted by Mortarion's malice. Even though he clenched his fists with all his strength, Magnus' fingers still trembled unconsciously.

He had exploited Russ's stupidity, he had severed the aid of Morgan, Sanguinius and Jaghatai Khan, he had used the most vile means to subvert the Emperor's vision and judgment, intending to turn the Council of Nikea into a grave for Magnus, the Thousand Sons and all psykers: and this despicable plan was about to succeed.

Damn it!
The next moment, Magnus' lips began to tremble.

A new, strange emotion that could not be described in any specific language was like a flood that burst through the dam, and in the blink of an eye, it washed away the Primarch's brain. The original exquisite palace, built with countless beliefs and rhetorical techniques, was now only a desolate ruin, roaming with gluttonous beasts that Magnus could not control.

His inner world had never been so desolate and turbulent as it was now, and his soul had never felt such a cold situation as it was now: his enemies were so many and so despicable; his allies were scattered and could not be relied upon; all his strength was only to deal with a noble and fair direct confrontation, rather than to protect everything he had in a conspiracy.

He had never felt so weak: he had never been so sure that he would lose.

He will lose... He will most likely lose...

No: he will definitely lose.

He would fall miserably, and his failure would be another tragedy recorded in history: it was Socrates who was forced to drink poison, it was Archimedes who was beheaded by the Romans, it was Copernicus who was burned at the stake, it was Mathison-Turing who was forced to end his life because of a trivial problem.

Perhaps thousands of years later, future wise men will also sing Magnus's tragic song: praising his spirit of exploration and enterprising, admiring his vision for the future of all mankind, cheering for his victory and glory, and shedding tears for his defeat and death. They will even put him on the same level as the legendary Alexander the Great, Pushkin or Ramanujan, lamenting that if they had not died young, they could have written such a glorious legend and reshaped the standard of so-called genius.

At the thought, the Primarch's lips trembled even more violently, but this time it was not because of anger or fear, but because of an indescribable excitement: when he thought that his name in history would make so many truth seekers in later generations cry, Magnus' heart was filled with a strange sense of satisfaction. In a corner of his spiritual world, there was a voice that seemed to urge him to die soon.

Don't waste this opportunity, it said.

Of course, Magnus knew that this voice was not actually rational, and its tone was too weak compared to other similar voices in the spiritual world: as the Primarch stepped onto the duel field again, at least twenty ideas were taking root in his mind, hissing his plans like locusts, and Magnus' whole body was shaking.

His lips trembled with satisfaction at the death of a martyr, tears welled up in the corners of his eyes due to fear, his breath forgot to function because of the despair at the moment, but his head was confident in his own abilities, and in order to make a great turn of events, he wiped every strand of red hair until it was shiny.

He was afraid, he was in despair, he was moved by himself in an unspeakable tremor, he was almost in tears for his joy at being able to occupy a corner in the epic forever, he was intoxicated by the urge to perish here and now, but he firmly believed that he had the ability to turn the tables: his face collapsed due to the complexity of his heart, and his fingers were weak due to muscle disorder.

He tried his best not to collapse to the ground on the spot, but he believed that his heart had never been so determined.

How contradictory, how sad.

Magnus laughed inwardly.

As confident as he was of victory a few hours ago, he was now as pessimistic about failure: there was no pause between the feeling of being certain of victory and the feeling of losing one's parents. When he found that he could not win, the Primarch's heart fell into the abyss of self-abandonment.

Magnus smiled, and he pressed his weak fingers on his chest, calling upon the last strength in his heart: The Primarch found that he was so calm now, he was not sure if he was really so calm, or if he had already fallen into the madness after decadence?

Who knows: it doesn't matter that he's about to shock everyone.

Feeling that the golden sun, which no one except him could see, was sleeping quietly in his chest, emitting a divine glow, Magnus' smile finally had a hint of warmth: he felt the sun's encouragement, and he felt the sun in his chest was slowly awakening.

His desperation awakened it, his impulse to sacrifice excited it.

go a head.

The sun was speaking to him: too real to be a figment of his imagination.

But the Primarch did not care about this. Although his heart was still in a mess and all kinds of desperate emotions did not produce a result, with just the simplest encouragement, Magnus, who had been timid before, began to resume his ambitions in the next second.

Regardless, he will go down in history.

that's enough.

The Primarch raised his head and looked directly at the one he loved most in the galaxy.

Looking at him, looking at everyone, confidence and a smile flow on his face.

"Long wait, everyone."

Magnus bowed slightly, his clenched fists transformed into sharp claws, and he casually stabbed his heart while looking up and reading his declaration: Hundreds of pairs of pupils were surprised by his actions, which in turn fueled the smugness in the Primarch's heart.

Compared to this: the bleeding and pain in my chest were nothing.

The divine power of the warp has never gathered around him as it does now.

His voice became louder.

"I want to tell you that maybe the previous debate has made you see the conflict, maybe your hearts are being affected by wrong thoughts, maybe the rumors and slanders of some despicable people have caused damage to my pure declaration."

"But I promise: I have never been more determined."

"Now, please put aside the worldly and past troubles, and focus your eyes in my direction: in the next second, the world will be reorganized, the truth will be explained, and I will show you the real ..."

"future."

As soon as the words fell, the head rose.

In the speechless silence, a cold golden sun finally, under the pitch-black sky of Nikea, finally in front of the true ruling class of the entire human empire, finally in the hearts of its destined subjects, arrogantly unveiled its curtain.

rise slowly.

"Now, everyone."

"Welcome to a brave new world."

When the bright white flames illuminated the faces of every onlooker red, only Magnus's martyr-like voice became the only voice in this world, and he became the first citizen to welcome the sun.

"Very good, everybody."

"I think now, maybe there is only one sentence in your chest?"

"Tell me: what do you want to say?"

------

"Oh my God!"

Horus was stunned in the place: before he realized what he said, a sincere admiration had already floated out of his mouth, hitting the cheek of the person next to him and also reflected in the pupils of the wolf god. But Horus did not react, his body was unconsciously leaning forward, like a meerkat looking into the distance, his shocked face made the corners of his mouth unconsciously widen, his heavy breathing turned into a thick hot wind, and his hands tightly grasping the obsidian railing were not paying attention, and the solid railing broke like a melted candle, hitting his boots in twos and threes.

But even so, Horus's drowned eyes were still not awakened. He stared at his brother Magnus, or rather, at the sun in the palm of the Prospero: the pure and flawless golden wheel of fire, the cold and ruthless sun of the Warp, the only supreme existence in the galaxy that was enough to melt the strongest moat in his heart.

Although he never remembered where he had witnessed the brilliance of this sun, and although Magnus had not said anything, everyone present, including Horus, understood one thing the first time they saw the sun: it must be the symbol of the Emperor.

That was the Emperor: no doubt about it.

Even the silence of the seal bearer ruthlessly acknowledged this fact.

"Father……"

Horus' lips moved, but he could only utter the simplest words. His head and eyes were moving blankly along with the natural movement of the sun. For a moment, he didn't know what to think: Should he cry for this beautiful power? Or should he envy Magnus for having such luck to own the treasure bestowed by the Emperor himself?

Horus couldn't tell, but there was one thing he was sure of: when he saw this shining sun, two seeds were planted in his heart, one was crying for being able to witness all this, and the other was trembling for the infinite power contained in this illusory brilliance.

This is psychic energy: this cold sun is undoubtedly a product of pure psychic energy.

Oh my god...

So powerful, so perfect, so in line with his values ​​and aesthetics: Isn't this the psychic power he has always dreamed of? Isn't this the existence that best suits him? Who else is more worthy of a sun that symbolizes the Emperor himself than the Emperor's appointed Warmaster?
Who better than Horus...

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"Don't think about it, brother."

The cold words were like a knife, ruthlessly splitting the sunlight: a huge hand covered with steel, accompanied by Chagatai Khan's shout, slapped the wolf-god's shoulder hard, and immediately dragged Horus out of his vain dream.

"Chagatai?"

The wolf god was still a little dazed, but the Khan's other hand attacked immediately and slapped Horus' other shoulder roughly, then he used both arms to exert a little force, forcing Horus to look at his brother.

"Look at me, Horus."

Chagatai Khan clenched his teeth, and every word he spoke was permeated with power, making his face look ferocious: He didn't know if it was Horus's own illusion, but he always felt that there was a trace of regret in Chagatai Khan's eyes and eyebrows. In the heart of the grassland man, it seemed that he was blaming himself for his recklessness because of something.

What is he blaming himself for?
Horus didn't understand, but Chagatai Khan didn't stop talking.

"listen to me."

The Khan stared at him.

"That is not a power you can touch. Forget about the sun, Horus. You can watch Magnus fiddle with it, but that thing is definitely not something you should possess. It has nothing to do with identity or qualifications. That kind of psychic power is too dangerous for us, yes, even for me!"

"But...but that's my father..."

"That is the power of the Emperor: even if it is the power of the Emperor, what does it have to do with you?"

Chagatai Khan was visibly slow to react, and after a moment's thought, he raised a question that shocked Horus: How could his brother doubt that this sacred sun was not a manifestation of the great power of the Lord of Mankind? How did he come to this conclusion?
That is clearly the aura of the Emperor...

"Listen, Horus, the wolf-shepherd god!"

The Khan's tone was so vicious at this moment that Horus hesitated to ask questions. The Chogoris were so anxious, as if they vaguely realized that they seemed to have made some mistakes, and were trying their best to stop the consequences of this mistake from flowing out.

"You have seen the power of the Emperor. You have fought alongside him for thirty years. You know how powerful his will and mental strength are when he uses his psionic powers. Even if that sun is really a manifestation of the Emperor, what confidence do you have that you can harness the same level of power as our father?"

"You are his favorite son! But you are not a copy of his level!"

"But Magnus can..."

Horus opened his mouth, and he even forgot to suppress his voice, screaming in rebuttal to Chagatai Khan's words. Fortunately, no one around cared about their quarrel.

The Wolf God had to do this. He had never envied Magnus, nor had he ever complained that he did not have the power that any of his brothers were good at. But this time was different. No matter how much spiritual power Magnus had squandered in the past, Horus had never envied his talent.

Until the Prosperos pulled out this psychic creation that symbolized the Emperor.

At this moment, not to mention Horus himself, even Chagatai Khan standing next to him realized that something was wrong: if there was an area that Horus could not give up no matter what, it must be the area related to the Emperor.

Whether it is the Emperor's attention, the Emperor's love or the Emperor's power, the Wolf God is never willing to lose to others on these issues: even to his brothers.

Especially losing to his brother.

No…he can’t lose.

Horus took a deep breath, and the thoughts in his heart became more firm, even firmer than the Khan's hand holding his shoulder: when the two looked at each other, the Chogoris also realized this, and his pupils and Horus's pupils looked at each other in silence, and neither side spoke again, because both sides had already read each other's inner thoughts.

Obviously, the Khan seemed to want to persuade Horus again, but the incident happened too suddenly, and even he couldn't say anything more: after a long silence, the Khan reluctantly put down his arm. He continued to breathe roughly, looked at the wolf-god, nodded unconsciously, and repeated a sentence.

"Mark my words, brother."

"Don't go looking for that kind of power."

Don't let me really make a mistake.

The last words were buried deep in his heart, so Horus did not hear them.

The Khan didn't care. He silently looked elsewhere and temporarily gave up on admonishing his brother: The Eagle and the Wolf Shepherd God had been living together for a hundred years. They knew each other as well as they knew themselves. Chagatai Khan knew very well that at this moment, no matter how much he advised, it would be in vain.

In other words, when Magnus took out the sun, which anyone with a discerning eye could see had a close relationship with the Emperor, everything had gotten out of control: if the Emperor had not personally denied that this was his power, Horus would have used every possible means to pursue it.

Especially when Chagatai Khan had just inspired the Wolf God to pursue spiritual power.

Oh shit……

The Khan was spitting dirt in his heart: he had indeed begun to regret it.

That Hydra, could it be that he had foreseen this happening a long time ago?
wrong.

Khan then overruled himself.

Alpharius did not have this ability, and his psychic powers were not that strong: if anyone could foresee Magnus's sun, it must be the Emperor and Malcador... and Morgan.

Morgan!

Chagatai Khan raised his head.

Yes! Morgan: What is she doing?
Thinking of this, Georgoris' eagle began to look far into the distance, and the entire chaos in Nikea was taken in his sight: he saw hundreds of dignitaries either shaking their bodies in shock, or falling into a frenzy of whispering in panic. The smartest among them had already retracted their gaze, comparing the meaning represented by the sun, and cast their eyes on the Lord of Mankind in silence.

And the Emperor remained silent.

But at this moment, the silence only fueled the uneasiness in the audience.

The most uneasy group of people are undoubtedly the various Primarchs.

Chagatai Khan saw the Wolf King slumped down on the chair with a look of grief, and also saw the disbelief and subsequent rage on Mortarion's face, smashing the railing in front of him into pieces with one punch. He realized that Sanguinius was frowning, as if trying to hide himself behind everyone, and he also found that even Dorn's face had become suspicious for the first time in a long time, and his strong body was at a loss where to go.

Everyone was surprised and everyone was shaken: to them, the sun that Magnus took out of his chest was more shocking than the entire Apocalypse War. Perhaps many of the people present had their previous values ​​and worldviews turned to ashes at this moment, leaving them with only panic like headless flies.

But among all the panic, the Spider Queen was definitely the calmest one.

She must have realized what Magnus had brought: from the first moment he saw Morgan, Jagatai Khan was extremely sure of this, because there was not the slightest panic on the face of the Lord of Avalon, and his subsequent movements were as smooth as flowing water.

Morgan raised her head, glanced at Magnus's actions, and then began her own actions: she made a short call, opened her arms, and grabbed in several directions with her five fingers. She gathered the brothers around her, Guilliman, Konrad and Corax, to her side, and admonished them like a doe protecting her fawns.

At first glance, these Primarchs seemed to be the shields that Morgan had erected for herself, but if one thought about it from another perspective, the Spider Queen, who was proficient in psychic powers, might have just covered her closest blood relatives under her protection in such an emergency.

The only obstacle Morgan faced was Jonson, who was far away: the Caliban man was frowning and staring at the sun in Magnus's palm. In his heart, he was undoubtedly thinking about countless issues related to loyalty, and obviously had no time to respond to Morgan's call.

In response, the Spider Queen was far more violent than Khan had imagined: Morgan pulled up her sleeves, revealing half of her arms, and finally reached out to Jonson with all her might, first grabbing the Caliban man's earlobe, then touching his shoulder. Perhaps because neither of these two points of force were satisfactory, after pulling for a while, Morgan successfully grabbed Jonson's long hair on the back of his head.

Then, there was the ferocious force of the Spider Queen and a rare grin on the face of the Caliban Lion: the Lord of Avalon burst out with unimaginable strength that was unimaginable to Chagatai Khan, and with just his brute force with a flushed face, he forcibly pulled Jonson in front of him. The Caliban man stumbled under Morgan's pull and was dragged for at least five or six meters.

"..."

But all this obviously could not make Jonson succumb to Morgan's tyranny: he frowned, as if protesting to the Spider Queen, but this action quickly aroused Morgan's anger. The Spider Queen pinched her waist with one hand, stretched out a finger with the other hand, and pointed at the nose of the Caliban man with a ferocious look. Even at a distance of hundreds of meters, Chagatai Khan could still feel the boiling anger in the heart of the Lord of Avalon.

They stood opposite each other, cursing and accusing each other, and completed their next cooperation. Morgan reached out and tidied up the cloak of Jonson that was torn by her, while the lion muttered with a gloomy face and obediently walked to the position designated by the Spider Queen: beside him were three brothers with smiles on their faces, who were obviously used to these things.

Even Guilliman started laughing, as if he had forgotten the strangeness on the field.

As if all this is normal.

"..."

"hiss……"

The Khan took a deep breath.

He suddenly felt: for the sake of his own values, world views, and three perspectives.

He should take a closer look at the sun that Magnus took out.

At least: this is more like something that can appear in the real universe.

(End of this chapter)