Emperor's Bane

Chapter 729 The Guillotine Falls

Chapter 729 The Guillotine Falls
"The Emperor has given the order."

"Let's get started, everyone."

"Remember, move quickly and keep your actions as covert as possible. Don't let any suspect escape the law. The Thousand Sons Legion still has many troublesome forces in Nicaea and other parts of the galaxy. We can't let these people leak the news in advance, as that will affect our subsequent detention operations."

"Do you understand everything?"

"very good."

"Now, the descendants of the Seraphs and Fanged Angels, take action. Let me see if you still maintain the level of your predecessors. If you have already degenerated, then roll aside obediently. And if you dare to show the slightest shielding during the action, you will be treated as an accomplice of the Thousand Sons Legion."

"You know what it means."

"From now on: it means death."

------

"It means death granted by the Lord of Mankind himself."

"It means endless slaughter of the Emperor's loyal servants."

"It means the inevitable fate of all those involved."

"And we, the Emperor's blades, will ensure its final execution."

"May the glory of the Emperor live forever."

When the Emperor's decree, conveyed by the tribune of the Imperial Guards Ixion, echoed in his mind and gradually faded away, the Imperial Guard soldier named Amon swore a solemn oath in an extremely low voice but clear enough: he began his killing in the dust of Nikea.

It's not quite right to call it killing: as one of the highest responsible persons who stayed outside the [Hall] and commanded all the remaining imperial armed forces in the entire ruined world, Amon was destined not to go to the front line in person, putting every blasphemous word on the list in his hand under his blade. He could only give orders, such as his colleagues in the front line of the Imperial Guard and the Astartes to complete them.

Of course, if possible, it would still have to be carried out by the Imperial Guards: after all, in the eyes of the Emperor's Golden Warriors, the only two members of the Astartes Legion who were worthy of trust in terms of their abilities were now gathered outside the Thousand Sons Legion's base to carry out more important capture missions.

As for the others?
The Imperial Fists? The Space Wolves? Or the infamous Luna Wolves?

As for the Imperial Guards, instead of sending these inferior products with no safety at all, it would be better to select some familiar veterans from the surviving Lucifer Black Guards (one of the mortal troops responsible for guarding the throne world Terra, and often cooperating with the Imperial Guards in military operations).

As for the Astartes: they have a task of their own.

Putting away the contempt in his chest, Amon quickly went over the current situation of the entire Nikaea world in his mind: Ten minutes have passed since the Emperor's light flashed again, and both inside and outside the palace, the Imperial forces, which once again had a backbone, were quickly recovering from the storm that almost destroyed them.

In addition to the necessary guards, thousands of golden warriors brought to Nikea by the Lord of Mankind went out collectively. Before the Emperor recovered, his loyal guards had already firmly grasped the entire ruined world in their hands again: eight guards of the guards were stationed in various places, and they were responsible for thoroughly executing the three orders handed down by the Emperor.

Re-establish order.

Provide rescue as much as possible.

And most importantly: uproot all the power Magnus brought.

The Ten Thousand invested most of their forces into the implementation of the third article. In addition to the two thousand elite troops led by three tribunes and two other tribunes who were directing the same number of imperial guards, they were traveling through the ruins of Nikaea.

While others were busy searching for traces of survivors, the main force of the Imperial Guards were secretly dragging into the darkness every mortal noble who was suspected of having ties to the Thousand Sons Legion according to the lists and facial features issued.

There was no inquiry, no trial, and no chance to defend or redress: beneath the deathly silence of the Ten Thousand Men, there was a rage so intense that had not been seen in hundreds of years. In the area of ​​sacred duty concerning the Emperor's safety, this was the most tragic dereliction of duty to date, and even the calmest of the Imperial Guards was almost consumed by the impulse in his mind.

If the Emperor had not already ordered that the lives of these suspects be preserved in order to uncover the truth of the Magnus case, then in the casualty reports following the Nikaea incident, there would probably be countless more death records in which even the traces had been completely erased.

The narrators and mortal officers who had followed the Thousand Sons fleet, the nobles who had spoken for Magnus at previous meetings, and even the governors who had had connections or cooperation with the Thousand Sons during the Great Crusade: old accounts were quickly dug up.

Most were knocked unconscious and piled up in cells, awaiting their uncertain fate, but a small number of people were more fortunate. Before the Custodians found them, they had been driven mad by the destructive storms and terrifying whirlpools on Nicaea.

What greeted them was only a clean and powerful bomb.

Amon regretted that he could not join the revenge effort, for as one of the most people-friendly figures in the Custodes, he was authorized to maintain contact with the various Astartes Legions that were carrying out rescue operations and to keep detailed records of the losses caused by the disaster, especially in terms of personnel.

Frankly speaking, this was not an easy task either. When data after data was transmitted into his mind from every rescue scene and witnesses, Amon could truly feel what kind of losses the Human Empire had suffered in this catastrophe that lasted only a dozen minutes.
The death of hundreds of fleet commanders or senior navigators was just an appetizer: when the warriors of the various Astartes Legions finally gathered and began to count the number of people, a deeper level of cruelty was revealed.

Even in their hearts, the imperial guards, who had never cared about these assembly line products, subconsciously lowered their voices.

"do you know?"

Turning around, Amon said to another tribune of the imperial guards, La-Endinion, who came to inspect the results of his work.

"Even among the veterans of the Dark Angels and Dawnbreakers there have been losses."

"very bad?"

La just glanced at Amon's face and guessed the general idea.

Amon nodded.

“I even started to feel sorry for them.”

"Let's have compassion on ourselves first."

The tribune's voice sounded tired.

"I received the casualty report of the Thirteenth Legion from the last statistician."

“Just as bad?”

"how to say……"

The tribune thought for a moment.

"Do you have any way to temporarily prevent Guilliman from getting news from the outside world?"

"It's hard."

Amon shook his head.

"There are too many Ultramarines operating in various parts of Nikaea now, almost more than the number of other legions combined. Even if, as you said, they lost a considerable number of men just now, the remaining number is far beyond our capabilities."

Amon's pupils changed.

"What's more, almost all the Ultramarines are now scattered across Nicaea, responsible for taking over each rescue site: some of the Dawnbreakers are responsible for formulating specific plans, the Salamanders are responsible for specific rescue work, the Ultramarines take over the subsequent management and transportation, and the Raven Guard, Night Lords and World Eaters are rushing to those dangerous areas with rugged terrain."

"World Eaters?"

"That's right: it is said that Morgan personally came forward to persuade them to retreat."

"In addition, the Imperial Fists and Iron Warriors are working together to build a refuge camp. The Blood Angels, Word Bearers, and several representatives of the Emperor's Children are responsible for comforting the people inside. The Luna Wolves are responsible for maintaining order outside. The Iron Hands have already set out collectively to rescue their Mechanicus allies."

"You forget, there are also the Space Wolves and the Death Guard."

the tribune added.

"They are now running around in the lava of Nikaea, led by a captain named Typhon, trying to catch the culprit behind all this, and rescue any victims they can find."

"Won't it cause us trouble?"

"That Typhon was very sensible: he handed over all the accomplices."

"So, these assembly line products do have their uses."

"By the way, what are the White Scars doing?"

"Them? They were the first to rush into the ruins after the storm. They were the first to find and mark the addresses of most of the survivors. These guys should have run to the other side of Nikaea to ensure that the most distant bodies could be found."

“Mostly Ultramarines?”

"...That's right."

The tribune paused for a rare moment.

Then, he threw the scroll with the ink still wet in his palm into Amon's hand.

"Look at this: I can already foresee the wrath of the Lord of Macragge."

Amon took it, sorted out his thoughts first, and then slowly opened it: This is a confirmed death list. The long curtain is full of the names of the Extreme Warriors. Just the name at the top made the Imperial Guard Amon exclaim in surprise.

"Tauro-Nicodemus..."

"Tauro..."

Amon hesitated for three seconds: one second was used to recall the name, and the remaining two seconds was used to relieve his surprise.

"It's him?!"

The voice of the imperial guards was a little sharp.

"Yes."

The tribune nodded, a hint of bitterness visible beneath his golden helmet.

"We checked several times and originally hoped that it was just a duplicate name, but whether it was the remaining gorgeous decorations on his body or the identification by other surviving Ultramarines, it proved that we had indeed lost a person."

"Tauro-Nikodemus, Warlord of Okrod."

"One of Guilliman's four heroes."

"Confirmed: dead."

"The body was found in a corner. According to his comrades' reports, Tao Luo was on his way to visit an old friend in another legion before the Storm of Destruction. The route was correct, but because the body was too badly damaged, we cannot be sure whether it was an accidental death or murder. After all, the wound on his body was so huge that it could completely cover up the original fatal injury."

"But it is certain that he was aware of his death: the remaining expression proves that he did not lose his life without any preparation. This seems suspicious, but we lack the manpower to follow up further, and his importance is not that high."

"..."

Amon was silent. He felt that everything in front of him was a little unreal. "A hero? Dead?"

What is this concept?
This was the equivalent of the Wolf Lord losing his Abaddon or Sejanus, or Morgan losing one of his Knights of the Round Table guards, or Fulgrim losing one of his most favored Lord Commanders in the blink of an eye.

In the case of the Emperor, it would be the loss of an assistant who could be compared to Malcador the Sigillite or Valdor the Chief of the Custodes in an unexplained accident.

In any case, this is not something that can be left unresolved.

"Guilliman will be furious."

Amon's heart ached: everything was already chaotic enough right now, and adding another angry Lord of Five Hundred Worlds would not do the empire any good.

As the heavy scroll in his hand was further unrolled, the imperial guard became more and more certain of his previous judgment: the names written in ink were soaked with blood, and these unknown dead were the elite of the Thirteenth Legion. Many of these names were heard of even by Amon and the tribune Ra.

“Unbelievable…”

Amon took a breath.

"Seven or eight legion archons, lieutenants and chapter masters are confirmed dead (Chapter Master is an official position of the Ultramarines during the Great Crusade, commanding a chapter of about 10,000 men). The loss of company commanders and champions is more than three digits. But apart from that, the greatest loss is still suffered by the legion's senior think tanks: the Ultramarines alone lost more psykers on Nikaea than all other legions combined."

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"He brought so many think tanks?"

"For the meeting."

Obviously, before this, the consul had already figured out all the ins and outs.

"In order to prevent the various questions he might encounter at the Nicaea Council, Guilliman brought a large number of Legion think tanks with him, hoping that they could serve as witnesses to refute any possible questions: these think tanks were concentrated together and suffered heavy losses in the subsequent Ruinstorm."

"But not many people died in other legions?"

"Because the Ultramarines have always deliberately pursued quantity and suppressed quality when it comes to psykers, the average strength of their think tanks is weaker than that of other legions, and the losses in the storm were particularly severe."

"What about the others?"

Amon pointed at the layers of names.

"So many captains and veterans? Why did Guilliman bring so many people?"

"Is he the only Primarch to do this?"

"That's not surprising."

When it comes to this issue, even the tribune of the imperial guards seems to be a little overwhelmed.

"Among all the Primarchs, Lord Macragge was probably the only one who attended this meeting with a pilgrimage-like mood: he once privately called this [meeting that could affect the fate of human civilization] a key moment in his life that was absolutely worth remembering, and therefore brought a large number of warriors to watch together, in other words, he wanted them to see the world and witness what he called [living history] together."

"I hope he won't regret it."

Amon didn't want to say anything anymore.

Then, there was silence for a while. When they vaguely heard the crackling sound of gunfire coming from the direction of the Thousand Sons Legion's base, Amon finally raised his head and asked the tribune La a tentative question.

"So: should we try to prevent what might happen over there with Guilliman?"

If it had been anyone else, Amon would not have raised the question: the Archons of the Custodes, like their colleagues, mostly lacked respect and understanding for mortals, even when it came to the Primarchs.

But Ra was different: as the son of Koja, the vizier of the Anuatan Steppes who stole the last ocean on Holy Terra and was executed by the Emperor himself, Ra had spent his entire life atonement for his mother's crimes, and his sentimentality towards the outside world and his empathy for mortals were developed by the tribune during this period.

His answer was also extremely pertinent.

"It's not that we want to or not, but we simply don't have a solution."

After saying this, the tribune looked in the direction of the gunshot intentionally or unintentionally.

"unless……"

------

"All blame for Nikea's crimes will fall on the Thousand Sons and their Primarch."

“And they don’t have to deny it.”

"The evidence is incontrovertible, the losses are heavy, and even the term rebellion is not an exaggeration for your crime: the damage you have caused to the Empire on Nikaea far exceeds the damage caused by every rebellion in every system in the galaxy in the past century, even if all of them are added together."

"So, you deserve what you get."

"Do you have anything to say? Do you want to answer?"

"..."

"That... Senior Bayar."

"He has been knocked unconscious by you."

"..."

"Shut up! I know!"

Even on the battlefield with roaring guns and flying bullets, the second captain of the Dawnbreakers still maintained his habit of speaking softly: the Dawnbreakers had to bend down to barely hear what Senior Bayar was saying amid the roars of the imperial guards in the distance.

"Listen, Hector."

The champion swordsman of the Second Legion glanced back silently, and then he focused his gaze on the corpse at his feet: the man pointed at by his sword was named Amon, not the Custodian Guard of the same name, but the captain of the Ninth Company under Magnus, and also one of the most fierce resistance figures among the Thousand Sons.

Rather, the Thousand Sons warriors, who were still ignorant of everything in the Temple of Nikea, resisted fiercely. Their counterattack was only one second slower than the assault of the Imperial Guards, but their resistance only lasted for a few minutes and did not even cause any actual casualties.

Before they could react, one third of the Thousand Sons had been killed, the blood of the most steadfast resistance solidified on the ground, all of them killed by the blades of the Custodes. On the battle line between the Dawnbreakers and the Dark Angels, another third of the Thousand Sons had been knocked to the ground, their fate depending on the ideas of the individuals who opposed them.

Up to this point, the last one-third of those to be captured had not even understood what was happening before they were surrounded: the Imperial Guards, Dark Angels and Dawnbreakers. Such a powerful capture team had gone through terrifyingly precise preparations before the actual action. There were countless legendary figures walking in the forefront alone.

In comparison, there were only a few hundred Thousand Sons warriors present, just a small group of elite soldiers in the legion: but if all of them were captured, the entire Fifteenth Legion would fall into complete chaos for a considerable period of time.

Especially considering the premise that their genetic father had already fallen first.

“Look at that man.”

Bayar pointed to the roar not far away.

"Bigger than you, Hector."

"Because it's a fearless platform, senior."

"You don't need me to tell you. I know: Sarjetarius-Malak, one of the first thirty Custodians built by the Emperor himself, and the first Custodian Dreadnought in history. Do you see the string of characters on his fuselage? Those are the words engraved by the Emperor himself."

"Duty ends only in death."

"And the one next to him, the Tribune of the Guards named Jasariko, is also one of the original thirty Guards: These golden warriors are actually crazy now. If you show any sympathy for the Thousand Sons, their swords will stab you from behind without hesitation."

"If you don't believe me, look ahead and listen to what the Dark Angels are saying."

"When have they ever been so noisy?"

"..."

Hector stopped talking, he just quietly witnessed the scene he had captured by chance.

He knew that man. It was Corswayn from the Dark Angels, the legion commander of Lion El'Jonson. At this moment, he was fully armed, and his pitch-black steel boots ruthlessly stepped on the head of a dazed Thousand Sons warrior. He ignored the shock in the pupils of his battle brother, and his blade whistled with cold light in the air.

"Why……"

Magnus's son murmured, his lips stained with blood from the sneak attack: the Thousand Sons Legion did not exert their due strength in this capture operation, because they never thought that they would have to fight against their former comrades.

Many Thousand Sons soldiers thought it was just a misunderstanding until the moment they were cut down by the sword, or that the battle brothers who rushed in were affected by the vortex above their heads: when the Thousand Son fell under Koswain's feet, his palms were still lingering with psychic spells that wanted to dispel the madness for the Lion King's Steward.

The lion's offspring only said one sentence as he indifferently witnessed his brother's innocence.

“No need to be at a loss.”

“There’s no need to be surprised.”

"If you have any questions, your genetic father will naturally answer them for you."

"He is already in Hell, the only destination for all traitors."

"And sent him there."

"It's my father."

He paused.

"You sinner."

"You fallen angel."

"Under the guillotine."

"Speak your confession."

After saying this, he raised the sharp blade high.

"repent!!!"

"Tomorrow is the day you die!"

(End of this chapter)

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