Emperor's Bane

Chapter 754: Warmaster's Bold Idea

"That's right! Coexist!"

“This is the door to the new era.”

When the giant in pearly white armor raised one of his hands, the entire room was lit up with a sun-like light.

Warmaster Horus, his deep voice was so full of life, and hundreds of glittering honors and medals dispelled the original cold and dampness in the room: even the bone-chilling marble sculptures came alive in front of the warm gaze of the shepherd wolf god.

“This is also the final solution I came up with after meditating for a while.”

"meditation?"

The figure working at the desk was obviously amused by the word: the owner of this cold office, the undisputed ruler of Macragge and the Five Hundred Worlds, finally raised his tired eyes and threw aside the quill that was making a sound.

"You were not in the habit of this before, my brother Horus."

Guilliman stood up. His fully armed figure seemed restrained in this not-so-spacious office. The refreshing decorative plants beside the desk and the fancy wall with giant military flags hanging behind him looked like a cage that imprisoned the Primarch, all reflecting a Macula-style conformity.

At least to Horus, this gorgeous attire made him feel a little uncomfortable.

"Please wait a moment."

Fortunately, the friendly attitude of the Macragge people greatly improved this situation.

Guilliman did not immediately greet his brother, but instead spent two or three minutes arranging the shaky pile of books and messy notes at hand: like a squirrel busy adjusting its warehouse for the winter.

Although in the eyes of the Wolf Shepherd God, these adjustments were useless: Guilliman's office still showed great chaos, but it was mixed with a little order that only the Lord of Macragge himself could understand.

It's really puzzling.

But it’s also fascinating.

Especially those clanking narrative boards and thinkers, which seemed to be placed randomly everywhere, but actually occupied all the best sights: the Primarch behind the desk only needed to move his eyeballs to easily extract the latest information he needed, which greatly improved the overall work efficiency.

The Warmaster secretly remembered this and decided to handle his own office in the same way after returning to cope with the huge amount of paperwork in the future: If the Wolf God wanted to be the best among his brothers, he must humbly learn from everyone's strengths.

"Sorry to keep you waiting."

Just as Horus was taking notes quickly in his mind, Guilliman walked up to him with a slightly apologetic look, holding a bronze wine bottle in one hand and handing him a glass of fragrant fruit wine in the other.

Horus took the glass, took a sip politely, and then raised his brows.

"From Avalon?"

“They do have better wine.”

The Primarch did not deny it.

"Morgan has kept her home planet in its most pristine development mode, and has planned the future of Avalon based on the template of the Paradise World: Although there are no nest cities or industrial products worthy of praise, Avalon's luxury goods industry and tourism industry have long been famous throughout the Far East Star Region."

“That’s understandable.”

Horus took another sip of the wine: much better than the Baal stuff Sanguinius had sent him.

"But where should she establish the capital of the entire Far Eastern Frontier?"

"Her glorious queen."

Guilliman picked up the wine glass and led Horus to the enclosed courtyard behind a secret door. This was where he would entertain his guests: the high ceiling was decorated with real sunlight and cloud scenes, the lush vegetation was the most popular style in Avalon, the flowing niches were carved with the emblem of a double-headed eagle, and the shining colors came from the dim Nostramo.

The Warmaster also noticed that on both sides of the top of the arch that Guilliman pushed open, there was a skull of a giant beast, carved with the personal symbols of the Lion King and the Lord of Red Sand respectively; and the small fountain in the center of the courtyard was carved from Olympian marble; the stone chair they were about to sit on was a strange cream-white, and stones of this color were almost only distributed on the home planet of the Raven Guard.

This courtyard, which is more than ten meters square, can fully illustrate Guilliman's greatest confidence.

"I know: Aurora."

The two brothers walked side by side, without any followers behind them: Horus and Guilliman were friends, the Macragge would entertain his brother alone, and the Wolf God also left his guards outside the door so that he could discuss some small secrets that could subvert the galaxy in private with his most valued potential ally.

"Horus: Are you here to lobby for Malcador or Terra?"

Perhaps he felt that there had been enough pleasantries before, so as soon as he sat down, Guilliman politely got straight to the point: Although he appeared very calm, Horus still felt the tension underneath his calmness.

He tried to suppress his smile.

"I'm not interested, brother: and I'm not qualified to interfere with your decision."

"That's it."

The Macragge nodded, and although he said nothing, the Warmaster could still read Mann's thoughts: with the increasingly rigid situation of the Bada layout and more and more Terra fleets arriving, the Lord of Five Hundred Worlds could no longer hold on.

Ultimately, Guilliman had not considered the possibility of a direct confrontation with Terra: he was simply angry for the moment, both because of the heavy losses he had suffered on Nikaea and because he was infuriated by the posturing of the High Lords.

The Warmaster understood all this very well. Although he did not lose anything on Nikaea, he did not like the tone of the High Lords. But if he were to become an enemy of Holy Terra, Horus would never dare to do so.

Therefore, the Wolf Shepherd God can quite understand Guilliman's current complex mood.

He also felt sad for his brother from the bottom of his heart. In his opinion, Guilliman did make some mistakes, but they were far from serious enough to be publicly executed: no Primarch had ever suffered such a great insult.

When he went to Badab, Horus actually leaned towards the Five Hundred Worlds in his heart: but he must never show it.

"What are you going to do, brother?"

Horus put down his wine glass and did not waste time on other issues: he watched Guilliman's face gradually fall into bitterness, his eyes wandering in the air, and he had obviously lost all motivation to continue.

"What else can I do?"

The Primarch sighed.

"To be honest, I have already decided to accept the invitation of the Sigillite and meet him on the Bucephalus. Malcador hopes to sign a gentleman's agreement with me, at least on the surface, so as not to make the situation so ugly, but he will definitely not give up what he wants."

"Bucephalus?"

The Warmaster nodded.

That was the Sigillite's flagship at the moment. If Guilliman took the initiative to go there, it would undoubtedly be a sign of his surrender: after all, peace treaties are usually signed in the halls of the victorious country, and there are rarely exceptions.

"Do you need me to go with you?"

The wolf shepherd god made a suggestion.

"After all, there is a third party present, so the seal holder will not dare to act too excessively."

"Thank you very much."

Guilliman did not refuse: it was always good to have a witness recognized by all.

"But no matter what, I did lose this round, brother Horus. Terra knew my bottom line from the beginning, and my response was not calm enough. The Great Whirlpool area is doomed to be lost. But this is not a bad thing for me."

The Primarch looked at the fountain in front of him, his voice almost a murmur.

"Anyway, I didn't intend to interfere too much in the affairs of the core area of the empire."

"Developing peacefully in a corner of the Five Hundred Worlds is in line with my initial expectations."

"..."

Horus' pupils moved, and his eyes were filled with turbulent waves.

"what do you mean……"

he asked tentatively.

"As a whole, do the Five Hundred Worlds intend to withdraw from the order left by the Emperor?"

"No, it's not that serious."

Guilliman's tone was brisk.

"It's just that from now on, I don't plan to have any direct contact with Holy Terra anymore."

"The Five Hundred Worlds will certainly be part of the Emperor's Grand Order, but I have decided to become an unknown part of it: I will no longer develop towards the Heart of the Galaxy, and I do not intend to intervene in sensitive areas such as Badab. I will stay outside of Terra's vision and handle the Five Hundred Worlds' own internal affairs."

"Like Morgan?"

"It's a little difficult: but I believe I can learn a lot from Morgan."

Guilliman did not deny the view.

"It seems that the things here in Badab have indeed given you a lot to think about, brother."

Horus spoke slowly, and it was obvious that his brain was working quickly, thinking about whether Guilliman's change of attitude was good or bad for his plan.

After a few seconds, a brilliant smile revealed the answer in the Wolf God's heart.

"indeed."

The Macragge people were somewhat emotional.

"To be honest, sometimes I even thank the high lords."

"It was their hostile behavior that created just the right amount of pressure, which made it impossible for me to escape reality. The problems that had been ignored for decades were exposed, forcing me to start thinking about how to solve them."

"In this way, my original indecision was replaced by determination in an emergency. When I started to think and made up my mind, I found that some of the original problems were not so difficult to solve: it was just that I had been avoiding them before."

"It is precisely because of the [enemy] that I can no longer deceive myself."

"For example, the internal transformation of the social structure of the Five Hundred Worlds. I had originally planned to delay it for another twenty or thirty years, but this time, the High Lord forced me to prepare immediately. And it turns out that the harm caused by the transformation is much smaller than I originally expected."

"Good fortunes are the root of misfortunes, and misfortunes are the root of good fortunes..."

The wolf-herding god hummed an ancient saying that Chagatai Khan had taught him.

"So: Is this why you are willing to give in here at Badab?"

"of course not."

Guilliman glanced at him.

"Honestly, Horus, I am still a little confused. How did this problem, which was originally just a small problem in one galaxy, develop to this point? It's as if I just made a wrong decision and the entire galaxy is about to be pushed into the abyss by my own hands."

"This is... so scary."

"Yeah, it's scary."

Horus nodded in agreement, but it was not Guilliman's words that he was thinking about.

When the Lord of Macragge was feeling extremely scared because he almost started a galactic war himself, what the Wolf God feared was the huge fleet that Holy Terra could now easily mobilize.

This is not a force that a mere Astartes Legion can resist...

The wolf-god's eyes were dark, but he quickly adjusted himself and smiled at his Macragge brother: Guilliman's sigh was just right for the topic Horus wanted to talk about next.

"But there is no need for you to blame yourself, my brother Guilliman."

"If I must say: you just handled an issue a little roughly."

"Which question?"

"It's simple: you shouldn't have sent your Ultramarines in the first place."

"In other words, we must never allow the Astartes to come into conflict with mortal military forces."

"..."

Guilliman was silent for a moment, thinking carefully about the meaning of Horus's words.

After a few seconds, the Macragge looked at his brother with a serious expression.

"What do you want to say, Horus?"

"It's very simple."

The Wolf Shepherd God smiled: He could finally reveal the great ambitions in his heart.

"Remember that word I just said?"

"coexist."

Guilliman answered without hesitation.

"You said it represents a [new era]?"

"Yes."

The Wolf Shepherd God stretched out a finger and tapped his temple slowly.

"Think about it, Guilliman. Think about it."

"Why did you seem to have made just one wrong decision, and let the situation in Badab deteriorate to this extent? Such a thing would never have happened before. At least during the Great Crusade, we never heard of any crisis." "But why is it different now?"

Horus looked at Guilliman's somewhat confused eyes with full confidence.

"Because times have changed, man."

“And you didn’t adapt to its changes.”

“You haven’t realized that the old-time behaviors don’t apply to the new-time system.”

"Or……"

"During the Great Crusade, our Gene-Father was still active in the galaxy. He was the greatest common denominator of all of us, and the absolute authority that could arbitrate all conflicts. It was precisely because of the existence of the Emperor that there would never be such a so-called crisis during the Great Crusade."

"But now that the Emperor has returned to his holy Terra, the greatest common denominator above our heads has disappeared. Each of us has become a scattered king, representing the vast forces under our command, but lacking an authority that can arbitrate these forces."

"So, when your power collides with the power of Terra, there is no one like the Emperor who can stand up and arbitrate the friction between you. When the original rules are lost, the first thing that emerges is definitely the most basic violence. When both sides take to the field with their own violence, a crisis will naturally break out."

"You can also say: rituals and music are in decline."

"And if we want to avoid this crisis as much as possible in the future, we must build a system as quickly as possible, a new system that is suitable for managing and arbitrating all of us after the Emperor leaves: the Emperor did not leave this system for us, so now we can only find a way ourselves."

"That is to say..."

Guilliman hesitated.

"You wish to create laws, Horus?"

"It's not that exaggerated."

The Wolf Shepherd God shook his head hurriedly.

"I just don't want something like this to happen again in the future."

"Well, let's get back to the topic."

The Warmaster leaned forward, exuding a kind of charm in his every move, an aura of wisdom that could only be born after serious thinking: this aura deeply attracted Guilliman at this moment.

He decided to keep listening: Horus was saying exactly what he wanted to hear.

"Guilliman: At what point do you think the Badab crisis got completely out of control?"

The primarch thought for a moment.

"When I sent out the Ultramarines?"

"Yes."

The Shepherd God nodded.

"Although what I'm going to say next may sound a little incorrect, I want to say that if you only sent out mortal troops, and Terra also only sent out mortal troops, then even if these mortal troops shed a lot of blood in the Maelstrom area, the Badab crisis would never get out of control."

"Because armed conflicts among mortals have long been commonplace within the Empire: the various power departments on Terra are engaged in armed infighting, wars are breaking out between planetary governors, not to mention that the struggles between the various forge worlds have long developed to the point where they have dispatched mechanical arks and Titan legions to each other."

"All normal: until you sent the Ultramarines into the fray."

“That’s not normal.”

"Because in the past, the Astartes never interfered in the struggles between these mortals. They belonged only to the Emperor and the Great Crusade. Although there were no explicit regulations, everyone tacitly agreed that the Astartes were neutral. They would not encroach on the rights of mortals, nor would they shoot bullets at the citizens of the Empire."

"And now, this default rule has actually been broken."

"Everyone sees it: a Primarch can send an Astartes to intervene in mortal conflict."

"He has reason, ability and is fully qualified to do so."

“That changes everything.”

"Because in the past, during the Great Crusade, the neutrality of the Astartes was based on the premise that they were completely obedient to the Emperor. At that time, the supreme leader of every legion was actually the Emperor, and the Astartes were nothing more than unconscious blades in the hands of the Emperor. Mortals naturally did not have to worry about their threats."

"But now that the Emperor has left, the actual and nominal supreme command of the various Astartes Legions has passed into our hands, becoming the military force of us, the Primarchs, who are also vassals of the Empire and part of the power structure: the Astartes are no longer so neutral in nature."

"It's just that your actions have made everyone aware of this problem."

"That is: it is entirely possible that the current Astartes warriors will point their guns at humans."

"And this time, there is no supreme authority that can stop them from doing so."

"In the past, the Astartes were angels, beings who walked in the heavens with the Emperor."

"And now, the Astartes are the warriors of the Primarchs: they step into the mortal realm."

"They appear in the human world in an inhuman manner."

“It would cause panic.”

"To put it more fundamentally, after the Emperor's departure, a question that had always been overshadowed by the Emperor's glory was placed before us, the Primarchs and Astartes: In the Imperium of Man, what position will these Battle Angels under our command occupy in the future?"

"To rule over mortals, to lead mortals, or to disappear in the world of mortals?"

"Have you thought about this, Guilliman?"

"..."

The Lord of Five Hundred Worlds did not speak: in previous years, he had certainly thought and pondered similar questions, but Guilliman felt that his mind was elsewhere and that the ambiguous answers were not suitable to be brought out at this time.

"So, this is what I said, the first problem exposed by the Badab crisis."

"That is, the question of how Astartes warriors and mortals will get along in the future."

"still got more?"

"of course."

Horus smiled.

"Two more."

"One of them, I think you should know it without me telling you, right?"

"cough……"

The Macragge coughed, looking a little embarrassed.

"This...my...brother..."

"It's ok."

Horus laughed and patted his brother's shoulder heartily.

"Never mind, Guilliman: I suffer from the same problem."

"The second problem exposed by the Badab crisis is the most obvious. That is, there is a natural contradiction between centralization and decentralization between the Terran government as a central institution and us as local vassal primarchs. This has been an old trick for tens of thousands of years. There is no need to be embarrassed by these things, brother."

"Conflicts will break out sooner or later. You are just unlucky enough to be the first one."

"Yes."

Guilliman thought rapidly.

"Horus, do you have a solution to this problem?"

"We'll talk about it later."

The wolf shepherd god gave a mysterious smile.

"Wait until I finish talking about the third question, which is also the least conspicuous, but the most fatal one."

"Guilliman, my brother."

"Tell me, are your five hundred worlds part of the human empire?"

"of course!"

Guilliman didn't even think about it.

"If that's the case, why would the people of the Five Hundred Worlds oppose the Empire itself?"

"..."

All of a sudden, the Lord of Macragge wilted like an eggplant hit by frost.

“This… this…”

"Don't mind."

Horus continued to pat his shoulder.

"I am not here to ask for accusations, because I have the same problem: When I went to the north of the galaxy, I found that the world there actually did not recognize the rule of the Empire. Although they submitted to the flag of the double-headed eagle, they had no sense of belonging to the Emperor and the Empire."

“That’s right: belonging!”

“That’s the third question.”

"Why do your five hundred worlds hold such boiling hostility towards Holy Terra? Why do my people complain about the Empire? Because they lack a sense of belonging. They lack an imagined community that they should have as citizens of the Empire of Man."

"In other words: they lack a universal set of values that identify with the human empire."

"Macragge and Terra, Avalon and Caliban, although they all belong to the human civilization, although they all submit to the rule of the Emperor and the Double-Headed Eagle, but other than that, they have nothing in common: their aesthetics and philosophies may be different, their societies and morals may be different, and even the languages they speak may not be understood by each other."

"Under such circumstances, how could they have a unified understanding of the empire?"

“They lack a [community].”

“No matter where you are from, what language you speak, what morals you believe in, what kind of society you live in, or what goals you have: as long as you agree with this [it], you can be regarded as a community of the people of the human empire.”

"This community can be a race, an ideology, a common ideal or a religion..."

“But it definitely can’t be nothing.”

"But now: the community of the human empire is precisely nothing."

"In the past, it could be the Great Crusade, the dream of restoring human civilization, the hatred of the alien races, the desire to regain those ancient territories: but they are all in the past, and they are no longer applicable to the new era."

"The Great Crusade is drawing to a close, human civilization has long since revived, countless alien races have been crushed by us, and even the most ancient frontiers are returning to the embrace of the double-headed eagle: perhaps in the next few generations, such a glorious victory can still preserve an imagined community?"

"But what happens after that?"

"What about in a few hundred years, a few thousand years, or even longer?"

"Even the greatest victory has its day of eclipse."

"The Imperium of Man cannot rely solely on the Great Crusade to unite everyone, to unite the one million worlds under the Double-Headed Eagle: we must create a community, a community that can transcend time and space, so that citizens across the Imperium can feel a sense of belonging."

"Until then, the Empire of Man can be called a true nation."

"That's the biggest problem."

“Also: the third problem we need to solve later.”

“A unified sense of belonging.”

“Conflicts between the central government and local governments.”

"And living space for the Astartes."

"These are the three difficult problems facing the empire in the future."

“It’s right in front of us, too.”

Horus stood up: his majestic figure was so similar to countless legends.

"And now, my brother."

"I have brought a solution: a solution that can solve these three problems."

"I wasn't sure what it did, so I came to you with it."