Emperor's Bane

Chapter 726 Magnus's Folly

The Emperor lives.

He was weak, he was in a difficult situation, he had suffered unimaginable damage, his intact flesh and skin hid shocking wounds, his soul was bleeding, and his spiritual world was being shattered by the influx of endless darkness, like a city wall trampled by a barbarian army.

But he is still alive: his tremendous power is still flowing.

Malcador was able to determine that.

Although the seal holder was at the most embarrassing stage in his life of more than six thousand years, his black monk's robe, which was originally as smooth as silk, was affected by the terrible disaster on Nikea and turned into a ravaged rag with ugly holes and piles of dust.

Malcador's own condition was not much better than his robes: his own strength was so great, and the distance between him and the Emperor was so close, that the life of the Sigillite was safe, but his spiritual world still suffered an unprecedented shock, and the dizziness and tearing pain made it almost impossible for Malcador to stand.

The only thing to be thankful for is that the Scepter has always been holding tightly the Eagle Scepter bestowed upon him by the Lord of Mankind: this symbol of imperial authority is as solid as her position, and even in the face of a storm of destruction, it can still protect the people surrounding it.

The Sigillite is this lucky guy, as are the Golden Guards who are closer to him: these warriors most trusted by the Emperor are just as the outside world stereotypes about them, they are indeed not good at resisting damage from the Warp, but this "incompetence" is relative to their other abilities that are unique in the galaxy.

When the light of destruction swept over, although the vast majority of the Custodes were like the Astartes and mortals they usually despised, with almost no resistance, there were still a few lucky ones. They were very close to the Emperor and Malcador's scepter, and were protected in time under the latter's majesty.

When the storm calmed down a little, these guards were the first to wake up. As Malcador frowned and tried his best to dispel the pain in his mind, he heard the friction sound of the golden warriors who were originally lying in a mess, struggling to get up from the ground.

The imperial guards were bewildered. A rare look of stupor and filth appeared in their mouths. The dignity that they tried so hard to maintain on a daily basis was torn to pieces at this moment. Almost every golden warrior wanted to rush to the emperor immediately, but they were so weak that they even found it difficult to stand up and pick up their weapons.

The Sigillite had no time to deal with these guards whose weapons had been blown away: when the wind of destruction subsided a little, Malcador quickly spread his psychic touch to the ruined Temple of Nikea, looking for any signs of survivors.

Emperor's Blessing: Those who can stand here are the cream of the human empire. If they are wiped out here, the disaster brought to the empire will be no worse than Holy Terra being directly blown up by an unknown force. Cleaning up this mess will be more difficult than starting and ending ten apocalyptic wars.

Simply put: this is the difficulty that would make Morgan or Guilliman have suicidal thoughts.

The same goes for the seal holder...

Malcador's heart sank.

First, the Imperial Guards: the Emperor’s darlings were as lucky as the Seal-Bearer. They were protected in the position closest to the Emperor. Although they had all suffered more or less serious injuries, their basic lives were still protected. Even the Emperor who was protected by them seemed to be in a worse physical condition than them.

Then, further away, the auras of the nineteen Primarchs were the most conspicuous and important ones in Malcador's mind: fortunately, all were still alive, even Magnus still retained vital signs, but when the dirty red wind of destruction raged among them, the Sigillite could not see more clearly.

But he was sure that Magnus' condition was worse than he thought.

As for why I am so sure...

The Sigillite's gaze moved downwards: when the storm was raging just now, when he tightly grasped the Emperor's scepter and tried to stand firm in the impact of the steel knife scraping his bones, Malcador vividly remembered that he seemed to be hit by a flying giant. That was the only clear memory in his mind.

Beyond that, he had forgotten what had happened: his last memory was when Magnus's sun was still hanging high in the dome, and at that time, at the instruction of the Lord of Mankind, he asked Magnus to present the sun carefully, and the Prospero did so.

But then, the Primarch made a mistake in a simple psychic summoning spell. Although it was not fatal, the sun seemed to have seized the opportunity and no longer obeyed the Primarch's call: it rampaged across the venue like a monster, and before Malcador or even the Emperor could react, the entire hall was swallowed up by the storm of destruction.

As for what happened afterwards, the seal holder only remembered the [sudden disaster] that happened under his feet.

After the storm subsided, Malcador was finally able to see the essence of the object, but when he did so, the Sigillite's heart sank: what almost knocked him down in the storm was not some unknown substance, on the contrary, Malcador recognized it at a glance.

It was a severed hand, and the gap was bloody, having undoubtedly been torn from its owner with the most brutal means: and considering that the hand was larger than Malcador's head and the skin was red, it was obvious who its owner was.

Not only that, within the range of Malcador's vision, there were such pieces of flesh and blood everywhere: they were not even complete, as if they had been blown off a giant bit by bit using explosives.

The craziest Lingchi...

Magnus...

The Sigillite raised his head and took one more look in the direction in front of him: the place originally occupied by the Scarlet King had now been swallowed up by the vortex of the storm. Even Malcador could not see clearly what was happening inside. The Primarch's life signal was inside, and it seemed weaker every second than the previous one.

After staring in silence for a while, the seal holder finally left the sight. Even he did not dare to walk into the storm casually. The missing memory fragments and the vague pain in his brain curbed the courage in his heart. What's more, the emperor behind him remained silent, making it difficult to understand his specific condition.

But unlike the Emperor, the situation of the many "weaklings" present was clear at a glance: Malcador silently praised the foresight of the Lord of Mankind in his heart. If he had not asked the Sigillite to disperse most of the people in the Temple of Nikea during his previous rest, the current losses would definitely be more serious.

Thanks to the Emperor, when Magnus's sun rose, not many people were left in the Temple of Nikea: the nineteen Primarchs, with their physical and mental strength, at least would not collapse immediately, and the number of weaker Astartes warriors remaining here was no more than twenty people.

Even the chief think tanks of each legion were not all present this time, because previous reports and discussions had already made them sure that the think tank system would be retained. As for the fate of Magnus and the Thousand Sons Legion? Not everyone would care about this matter.

Only Ahriman, as the party involved and their representative, stood close to Morgan: this saved his life.

Malcador felt Morgan's psychic aura, which was second only to that of the Emperor. Although it was weakened to a certain extent and was not under the protection of the Lord of Mankind, the Spider Queen still recovered faster than the Sigillite. Gathering around her, the psychic auras of the other Primarchs were obviously shrinking.

And further away, the aura that was almost indistinguishable from the Primarchs belonged to Ahriman, his soul only injured, but his body already beaten to the point of being dying: the Sigillite made sure Corax's aura quickly reached Ahriman, and carried the latter to Morgan, where he was receiving treatment and recovery from the Spider Queen, before extending his senses to the mortals at a lower level.

To call them mortals is not actually accurate, for the ones who protected themselves better in the ruins were the Chief of the Star Speech Court and the representative of the Navigator family. Their safe lives made the Sigillite heaved a sigh of relief: if these two had died in unclear circumstances in Nikea, even the Emperor himself would probably have been in trouble because of the suspicion of the two major forces.

Further away, the vast majority of mortals, like the Astartes, were buried in the ruins after the storm. Most of them became extremely weak, but at least most of the Astartes survived, and the number of deaths among mortals was not as many as imagined.

But the Sigillite still felt his heart bleeding silently: because among those mortals who had turned dark, there were several capable ministers that Malcador remembered in his heart, and one was even a candidate for the future Supreme Lord. After this sudden catastrophe, the entire Holy Terra government team might have to go through a round of large-scale rectification.

If these survivors can ensure their purity in the future.

Otherwise, Machado will have to find a way to set up a new government team.

I hope that's not the case...

The Sigillite's third eye quickly swept over the only Astartes warrior who had unfortunately died in the disaster. That was the Emperor's Children representative sent by Fulgrim to attend the meeting on his behalf because Fulgrim was deeply involved in the Maelstrom war. He was also one of the few psykers in the Third Legion. He fell beside Leman Russ.

Judging from his actions, the Wolf King wanted to protect the warrior before he fainted, but he was obviously unable to take care of himself: instead, Mortarion next to him had already staggered to his feet, and his vicious curses could echo in Malcador's ears even through the storm. The Lord of Death was looking for his scythe and vowed to chop off Magnus's head.

The casualties of the mortal nobles on this side were staggering: out of more than a hundred famous figures, perhaps thirty had become a pool of blood and flesh, and whether the rest could be saved was entirely up to fate. The worst were the representatives of the Mechanicus who came with the Forge General. Their huge metal bodies crushed each other, and in the most tragic way, who was the toughest one?
In order to be able to drum up more momentum in front of the Emperor in private conversations after the Conference of Nikea, Forge General Kalberhal did not hesitate to lower his posture and temporarily bring all the powerful leaders of Mars to his side to attend the conference together. But after this wave of catastrophe, the other head of the Double-Headed Eagle will experience great turmoil.

Under the faint electronic pulses of the Forge General and a handful of metal survivors, a large number of names that were powerful even in Malcador's heart were buried: the entire Mars would go crazy in a scramble for the status and resources they left behind.

The Mechanicus will face a wave of infighting that will be no different from a civil war.

But this is not even the most troublesome thing for Makado right now.

Not even in the top three!

Damn Magnus...

The Sigillite took a deep breath. Just ten minutes ago, Malcador would not have felt such a genuine hatred for any of the Emperor's sons. Even Horus and Mortarion, with whom he had a less than good relationship for a long time, were nothing more than the more naughty children of the Lord of Mankind in the eyes of the Sigillite. Their hatred for Malcador was no different from the pranks of children in the latter's eyes.

After all, no matter what they said, these descendants of the Emperor were all obediently contributing to the Great Crusade of Mankind, and although they secretly disobeyed the orders of the Sigillite, they did not cause more losses: who knew that Magnus would just make a slight exception and mess up the entire situation?

The seal bearer covered his forehead with his hands. The dark shadow in the memory chain and the pain in his mind made him extremely sure that the [Eye of Nikea] above his head was corroding his spiritual world.

If Malcador was like this, how could the Primarchs be exempted? Who knew what effects this contamination would have?

In addition, there are reports of casualties inside and outside the Nikaea Palace: regardless of how much power the Empire will lose, the chain of interests behind the mortal dignitaries who died here will affect the entire body, and the power structure of Terra will have to undergo a major reorganization...

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It just happened to be this critical moment when the Emperor was about to leave for the Great Crusade!

damn it……

Everything seemed to be calculated...

At this moment, something in Malcador's mind began to waver: Was it true, as Mortarion said, that Magnus had been plotting an overthrow of the Emperor?

...That's right! The Emperor!

He was silent again!
All the casualties in front of him did not cause as much panic as the deathly silence of the Lord of Mankind on the platform: throughout the entire Nikea Council, the Emperor maintained a silent expression, but Malcador knew very well that the previous silence was out of loyalty and reserve, while the current silence was due to the helplessness after being seriously injured.

The Sigillite knew why: of all those present, he was the only one who saw clearly what the Emperor did at that moment, and he was the only one who knew why even the Primarchs were struck, while most of the Astartes and mortals were able to survive.

Because the Emperor took action.

Although Malcador was still unsure of what had happened, when Magnus's sun went out of control, the Emperor, who had sensed the sun's presence as soon as the Primarch had landed, had silently prepared for it and did not let the situation deteriorate: he immediately released his power.

The storm was so terrible that it wantonly destroyed the indestructible temple and knocked all the Primarchs unconscious, but despite this, it was still only a small part of the Ruinstorm that leaked out under the Emperor's prevention: perhaps not even one-tenth,

The power from the Lord of Mankind offset the storm's offensive, allowing Malcador and the Custodes to remain safe and sound, and allowing the Astartes and mortals present to at least save their lives. The Primarchs received the least care, but their own strength ensured their safety.

Therefore, the absurd reality is that the person who is most injured may be... the Emperor.

"Emperor!"

The seal bearer even forgot the honorific title.

"How are you...how are you?"

The Sigillite turned around, the light from the podium blinding him: it was not originally like this, originally, the Emperor's sacred light would only shield the mortals and Primarchs below the scene, but this time, the Lord of Mankind did not hesitate to use even more strength to isolate his true state from the sight of everyone present. The trauma he suffered must have been more serious than the Sigillite thought.

Malcador wanted to rush forward, like the other Custodians who had just recovered their spirits, but before they could move, a will from above stopped them: the Emperor's orders were unquestionable, and they were required to rescue more survivors.

And here in Malcador, he had the privilege of hearing the Emperor's present voice.

So weak...

In all the years they had known each other, he had never felt the Emperor so weak, not even the duel with Emperor Randan had caused so much damage to the Lord of Mankind: it was unimaginable that even with all the preparations made, the Emperor could be pushed to such a point.

A cold sweat broke out on Malcador's back.

"My lord?"

He asked tentatively, and after a few seconds of silence he got a response.

+Malcador...my friend...+
"My Lord! You still..."

+Prepare...Prepare for the ceremony...+
Intermittently, the Seal Bearer heard a slight murmur. The Emperor seemed to be injured, not physically, but mentally. He seemed to be fighting against the pain as well, battling against an invisible opponent in his mind. This required him to devote all his concentration, and even his voice seemed a little incoherent.

The Minotaur has broken free of its cage, and the Lord of Mankind is doing his best to contain it again: and keep it alive.

+Forgotten...Ritual...+
"Forgotten?"

+Remove the memory! +

An overwhelmed cough.

+ Grinding the memory... of everyone... of everyone on Nikaea... +
+ Primarchs, Astartes, mortals... let them forget what happened today... forget anything about Nikaea... forget it completely... +
＋Do it now! ＋

"..."

"Everyone? My Lord?"

＋That’s right…＋
The emperor was silent for a moment, as if he was brewing a difficult decision.

+Including you...+
＋And... me. ＋
+...+
+This is our last resort... +
+We must forget it... at least until the Empire is ready. +
(End of this chapter)