Emperor's Bane

Chapter 766 Brothers & Enclosed Spaces & Secret Confinement & Involuntary & Unconscious
“It’s so quiet.”

"There aren't those assholes in the hallway that are always making noise."

"No one in the galaxy bothers me."

"No need to drink, no need to fight, no need to wear that stinking wolf skin anymore."

“Life is wonderful…”

Down, down, and down again.

Leman Russ slumped like a puddle of mud on the fur-covered throne.

The wild king was not accompanied by any warriors. In a fake drunken rage, he drove out all the noisy kids and was finally able to enjoy a moment of peace.

On the Hercules Fenr, this is a luxury item that is hard to come by at a high price.

"No expeditions, no orders: Is this the world after the Great Crusade?"

Russ slumped on the throne, his bored eyes wandering between the huge legion flags that were large enough to cover the walls and the even larger circle of beast furs.

Allfather, there is no beauty in these shorn furs: not even Jonson the Savage would decorate his ships with the beasts he had slain.

If the Space Wolves really want to be respected by others, they should at least get rid of all these bestial behaviors: the legion flag can be kept, and some statues or weapon racks can be put up.

Unconsciously, the King of Fenris was humming a vague tune with a nasal voice. In his groggy state of half-asleep, he measured his palace with invisible tools like an inspired architect.

A pendulum here, a painting there, Perturabo and Sanguinius would be happy to help, a few towers on the bridge, maybe some silks in the corridors: to hell with the stones and wooden sticks.

Add a little here, a little there, and with a brief refit, their warships would be completely transformed, just like the change of the Ninth Legion's flagship from the "Gray Daughter" to the "Blood and Tears" after the Archangel of Baal returned.

He threw away all the junk he brought from Fenris, then shed the barbarian skin on his body, made some changes, and put on a capable look: By then, who would dare to say that his Wolf Legion was a group of barbarians?
Jonson?

You can't beat him to death.

Anyway, the Great Crusade is over, and there is no need to pretend anymore. Now that the Emperor has opened the door to peace, there is no need for them to be barbarians and gendarmes anymore: of course, they still have to behave themselves as dogs.

But it has changed from biting people to guarding the house: it is more civilized after all.

With a hint of drunkenness, Leman Russ stroked his beard with a half-smile: the smell of alcohol in the air took a long time to dissipate, and it seemed that just lying here and breathing would make him fall into drunkenness again without realizing it.

But his mind was still clear. He knew where the nearest bottle of wine was and where the damn spear was thrown. He knew that he should find a time, a suitable time, to start reforming these hopeless wolf cubs under his command.

Just like his brother Ferrus had always said: the Great Crusade was over, or at least almost over, so some things should be put on the agenda as soon as possible.

But...what should I do?

How was he going to turn these Fenrisian bastards into the army of his dreams?
He did do something: but are these measures enough?

The Wolf King covered his forehead and felt a pain in his head. He didn't know if it was because he drank too much or because he started thinking again: Leman Russ personally felt that it should be the latter.

The Wolf King's affairs always stop at thinking.

"It's really stupid."

The Primarch spat, slowly climbed up from the throne, casually kicked away the mess on the ground, then waded through the hill of broken bottles and food scraps and walked to the place near the gate.

This is also the only relatively tidy corner in the entire hall.

The reason he came here was because he heard footsteps in the corridor.

The voice was firm and powerful, and its rigid rhythm was like the fist of an empire: after the Wolf King had finally taken care of himself, and the owner of the voice sounded to have passed the guards' interrogation, a heavy knock on the door was heard.

"Come in."

Ruth shouted.

Then the door opened.

The one who walked in was the perfect warrior that Leman Russ had always dreamed of. He was the embodiment of all the fantasies in his mind and the "Wolf King's Fantasy" for Leman Russ.

He was tall, strong and sturdy, wearing iron-blue power armor, and his facial features were somewhat similar to Leman Russ, revealing his identity as a Space Wolf warrior: but he was a whole head taller than an ordinary werewolf.

And most importantly, this Space Wolf is completely devoid of the wildness, laxity and unruliness of Fenris.

He had short hair and a clean-shaven beard, revealing a resolute chin. His steely eyes showed that he had never been troubled by anything like alcohol, and apart from the necessary rank insignia and a few decorations on his chest, there were no furs or runes from Fenris.

But what is most eye-catching is his tall stature and strong muscles: even by the standards of Astartes warriors, the muscles of this Space Wolf are too spectacular.

One can't help but worry: whether the power armor on his body can trap the power of this flesh.

In short: it's like an Imperial Fist in Space Wolf armor.

And he: was a [Norman].

The recruits selected by Leman Russ on the worlds outside of Fenris also represent his fantasy for the future of the Sixth Legion.

"grown ups."

The newcomers stood straight and performed the Imperial Sky Eagle salute meticulously: before them, the Primarch had never seen such etiquette from any Space Wolf, which made him sigh in his mind for about three seconds before he nodded and smiled.

"You're welcome, William."

"Find a place to sit."

After saying this, Leman Russ picked a table and sat down. However, his Norman descendant did not have the enthusiasm and familiarity of the Fenrisians. He just quietly waited for the Primarch's action, always keeping a proper distance from his master.

Then he stood like an iron tower and reported his work meticulously.

"Thank you for your kindness, my Lord: but I have more important things to report."

"About Prospero?"

Speaking of this name, Leman Russ glanced at the Spear of Dionysus vaguely.

"Yes."

William nodded.

"According to the Emperor's orders and the agreement reached previously, the Dark Angels' fleet has completely withdrawn from the Prospero system. We will take over all supervision tasks for the remnants of the Thousand Sons Legion in the coming period. I have been ordered to report to you on the progress of the mission."

"Go ahead."

The wolf king grinned and turned left and right, looking for the unfinished wine.

"The complete blockade of Prospero has come to an end: we have demolished all spaceports, and the only entrance and exit is firmly in our hands. All communication networks have been cut off, and the newly built orbital space station is always stocked with sufficient extermination orders."

"In addition, we razed all cities on the planet except the capital Tisca and forced their populations to move in, which will facilitate our centralized management. The plans for the isolation wall and the monitoring tower have been approved by Terra, and construction will begin once the materials are in place."

"..."

Leman Russ was neither happy nor angry, he just listened quietly: listened to the tragic plight of his brother's legion, and then drank absent-mindedly with big gulps, and the wine dripped down his beard to the ground.

"What's Chiko's reaction?"

"In the past three months, the Thousand Sons Legion has staged more than five hundred protests in total, including more than one hundred and thirty protests involving more than one hundred Thousand Sons warriors. However, they were all suppressed by anti-psychic weapons provided by Holy Terra and Caliban."

"Where are the casualties?"

"We have kept your instructions in mind. No bloodshed has occurred. All parties involved have only been warned and imprisoned. Those with serious offenses will be subject to corporal punishment, such as forcing them to wear anti-magic collars."

"..."

The wolf king nodded, and his expression looked a little better.

"You are able to carry out my orders 100% like machines, and you work without any personal feelings: this is why I chose you, and not those Fenris children, to guard Prospero."

"I won't let you down, sir."

William lowered his head slightly.

"But the problem is that the custodial forces are indeed understaffed. The mortals of Tizca have been protesting. They protest our forced relocation and isolation, our prohibition of their psychic research, our atrocities against the Thousand Sons Legion, and our isolation of Prospero itself."

"Didn't you say this was an order from the Emperor?"

"Wish me the truth, my Lord."

William hesitated.

"The Prosperos clearly lack sufficient respect for the Emperor's name."

"Your bloodless order has made our mortal troops always seem to be handicapped when resisting these protests: the Prospero people have already figured out our details, and small-scale riots and disturbances have occurred one after another, and even the looting of guns and weapons has occasionally occurred."

"So, when necessary, do you think we should..."

"no!"

The Wolf King simply waved his hand, and his offspring immediately stopped speaking.

"Request more men from Terra: blood cannot be shed among the people of the Empire."

"At least before the Emperor gives the order..." The Wolf King muttered dejectedly and threw the bottle of wine at his offspring.

"A little?"

"I'm sorry, my lord."

The newborn Space Wolf respectfully handed the bottle to his Primarch.

“You can’t drink alcohol while working.”

"..."

"Ha ha ha ha……"

The primarch laughed.

"You know what, William."

"What? Your Excellency?"

"I plan to create more Normans like you in the days to come."

"But I'm also thinking: This may not be a good thing for the Sixth Legion."

Leman Russ licked his lips and greedily put his head into the wine barrel.

"It won't be a good thing? What do you mean?"

"it means……"

------

"The current empire cannot afford any civil war involving the Legion."

"Whatever legion it was: whatever bullshit the war was caused by."

"We can't stand this kind of torture."

"so……"

"That's why I'm going to lock you up here."

"Locked up in my territory, huh?"

"Ha ha ha ha……"

As the shadow behind the Heracles gradually covered the yellow-gray ground beneath his feet, Fenris stood on its bridge, looking down at the world beneath him.

Betangamon.

Portal to Terra.

A place with heavy military garrisons.

It was also the portion of Terra that was given to Leman Russ from the corpse that Guilliman had vomited out after the Badab Crisis: now, on this gateway world of Terra, the standards of the Space Wolves were fluttering.

Those high lord bastards who can't even give birth to a child without an asshole really trust him.

Leman Russ could hear the grinding of teeth: the Wolf King felt his anger boil over whenever he remembered how earnestly the High Lord's envoy had asked him to take over the authority of Betangamon.

He was very surprised: surprised that he had not fought back until now and tortured those Terra bastards with whips and claws.

Perhaps it was because he knew very well that a world like Betanjamon could not be sent back and forth by the High Lords: behind this, it was either Malcador's intention, or another great plan in the All-Father's mind.

What a fucking plan.

As he made his way to the surface, the Primarch kept repeating curse words in his mind.

Although this was his world, only a third of the military forces on the planet were willing to obey the command of the Space Wolves: even those that were either belonged to Terra or to the Custodes stationed here, and some were secret weapons under the direct command of the All-Father.

Even Russ himself, if he wanted to reach the center of Betangamon, had to endure unimaginable interrogation: from the time the ship used the Mandeville Point to the Stormbird finally landing steadily at the airport, the Primarch was subjected to more than forty procedures or surprise inspections.

If they fail just once, the entire galaxy's military force will be activated.

Including an entire fleet: However, the battleships that Leman Russ could see far exceeded his fingers, and the rest of the ships, large and small, might have already exceeded a thousand.

And there are the Titan Legions: God knows how many Titan Legions Holy Terra has hidden in this broken place. The Primarch only knows that in order to coordinate with the power of these Titans, there are more than sixty elite members of the Knights' families stationed in Betangamon all year round.

And if there is a war, this number can easily increase four or five times.

Compared with them, the ten thousand idle Space Wolves, the nearly eight million elite Solar Auxiliary Forces, and the permanent fortresses that cover every inch of land seem to be just insignificant extras.

The Primarch thought as he slowly walked through the last level of inspection. A huge black stone obelisk was stationed next to it. There were buildings like this all over the world, with a density comparable to Cadia next to the Eye of Terror, which almost completely isolated Betangamon from the Warp: psykers could not survive here at all.

Even the Primarch felt an unbearable headache.

And all of this, all of this.

All for one person: a prisoner who has been forgotten by the entire galaxy.

He is also the most honorable prisoner in the entire galaxy.

"call--"

The door opened, cold air blew on his face, and the Wolf King slowly walked into the shadows: the vast space large enough to accommodate the Titans completely blocked any external light, and the only shining point was the huge container at the deepest part.

It was high in the air, and it was a suspicious green liquid that was a hundred meters square.

And inside that liquid: a lump of rotten flesh that was barely recognizable, a touch of a noble soul that could not be concealed even if it was in pieces, was the only prisoner in the entire Betanjamon.

"Magnus..."

The wolf king raised his head and looked at his brother.

The broken arms: one was completely gone, and the other had marks of cutting and picking on the bones.

Those empty legs: the messy joints gave off a mechanical feel, perhaps in an attempt to give its owner the ability to walk again, but this plan was eventually abandoned.

The bloody back had only received the most basic care, with dozens of wounds and scars exposed. Amid the gurgling sound of bubbles, ominous red particles were constantly flowing out of the wounds on the back.

That chest covered with scars...

Oh: he could see at a glance the death throes of the remaining heart.

Those eye sockets, those lips, that head, that face…that soul.

The soul of Magnus.

The Wolf King looked straight at him, enduring the pressure of the Blackstone Obelisk. When Leman Russ wanted to use his psychic power, the powerful pressure almost made him kneel on the ground: this was the strongest jailer beside Magnus, and the iron chain that was enough to restrain the Scarlet King.

"Magnus."

Amidst the sounds of struggling breaths, the wolf king licked the blood from the corners of his mouth.

"Are you still alive?"

"..."

The prisoner made no reply.

But from a great distance, Leman Russ seemed to hear a sound in the wind, which made him close his eyes.

------

Russ didn't know why the All-Father had ruthlessly abandoned Magnus halfway through the treatment, reducing him from a guilty patient to a complete prisoner.

He also didn't know why the All-Father ultimately chose him and his legion to serve as jailers of Magnus.

He also didn't know whether Magnus still had self-awareness now.

Is he still alive.

Can you still think?
I can still recall what I did on Nikaia.

Can you still regret it? Shocked?
Or hatred?

He doesn't know, and he doesn't want to know.

------

He hoped that Magnus would wake up: or that the Emperor would forgive his brother.

But: He also hoped that Magnus would never wake up from now on.

He also hoped that the Allfather would never soften his heart and forgive his brother again.

(End of this chapter)