Emperor's Bane

Chapter 840 Angron's Vacation
About twenty-two years ago...

"So, according to the Eldar, this is actually their home world?"

"Yes, Savage Planets: they have a unique pronunciation in Eldar terms."

"That's it."

Kahn nodded, but didn't make any special effort to remember this little-known fact: similarly, he didn't feel suspicious of Margot's erudition.

World Eaters like them who were chosen to join the inner circle of the Legion were all more or less knowledgeable about the Eldar, and many of them could speak fluent Eldar: after all, only by understanding the enemy could victory in battle be ensured.

As a benchmark among the World Eaters, Kahn would naturally perform better than others on these issues: he spoke the Eldar language most fluently in the legion, and could even communicate with these aliens without any obstacles.

On the other hand, he had the most profound knowledge about these ancient races. Just by observing a few details, Kahn could tell which kind of Eldar the corpse in front of him came from without any help: and he had never made a mistake in this work.

Or to put it another way: Khârn was never wrong about anything concerning Angron.

"The arrest operations led by him have maintained a success rate of nearly 70 percent."

"It's incredible."

Margo wiped the sweat from his forehead and marveled silently in his heart. The exhaustion he realized belatedly made him almost unable to stand: fighting against the Eldar was not an easy task. These ancient aliens were capable of perishing together with them even under the worst conditions.

What's more, no matter which type of Eldar they are, they are very good at escaping: as long as there is a portal near the battlefield, it is very likely to mean the failure of the entire operation.

Over the past decades, countless veterans have been killed in capture operations, almost catching up with a large-scale war: Fortunately, the War Dog Legion has a good foundation, and the Primarch has managed it diligently over the years.

Although the Twelfth Legion is not the largest one, its strength of 160,000 men still ranks in the middle among all the brother forces: the World Eaters will always be in this position.

In comparison, the number of Eldar they have captured over the years is not very impressive.

This is because the Devourers have always been as cautious as possible, and would rather resort to ambush and encirclement than engage in head-on confrontation, and would rather devour a small force than look for the main force: but even so, the results of the inner ring can only be said to be barely sufficient.

The Dark Eldar in particular were amazing at escaping: and once they got through those portals, there was nothing you could do.

The World Eaters had tried to chase them directly into the portal, but after losing several elite teams in succession, Kahn immediately stopped this behavior and changed to [importing] from those legions with close relations.

So, while using a large amount of favors and benefits to plunder Eldar captives from all over the Empire, the World Eaters actively inquired about the whereabouts of the Eldar, and maintained a high frequency of attacks every few years or even months for decades. In the end, they did not let the balance of the Primarch collapse.

They even built a warehouse to store more Eldar prisoners: to ensure they were alive and would not escape, the sons of Angron went to Nostramo to learn from the Night Lords.

It is said that when the Terran veterans of the Eighth Legion discovered that their family skills could finally be passed on, they were so excited that tears welled up in their eyes. They then taught their unique skills to others, and the Primarch Konrad demonstrated them personally.

As it should be: Kahn is the fastest and best in everyone's secondary school.

Margot was used to it.

For the sake of his Primarch Angron, Khârn would always become powerful beyond imagination.

Especially when he squatted down, slowly grabbed the head of the Eldar prisoner, pulled out a dagger with his other hand, skillfully cut the alien's hand and foot tendons, then dislocated the joints of its body, and tied its limbs into a knot alive.

Margot, who witnessed the whole process, actually felt a little sympathy for these aliens.

But he remained silent: only Kahn's sighs echoed in the air.

If one had not heard it with one's own ears, no one would have believed this fact: the notorious Captain of the Fourth Company of the World Eaters, the war dog among war dogs, the powerful Khârn the Silent, his voice was actually a scholar's whisper, gentler than the wings of Sanguinius.

Kahn's words always made a rustling sound like stroking toilet paper. Although a little hoarse, if someone was careless, they might not be able to hear what Kahn was saying at all: although no one dared to do so in front of the captain of the Fourth Company.

"It's a pity."

Khârn shook his head: his voice was not as loud as the wails of the Eldar.

"Although our initial goal was to capture the Savage Eldar in this world, it is clear that the ones who exchanged fire with us and were destroyed on this land were a group of Ark Eldar from the Bietta Ark."

"There are no Savage Eldar here. They have abandoned this dead home world."

"Because the World Soul is gone?"

Margo simply nodded: The World Eaters had been in similar situations before.

The Savage Eldar are the most common trophies on the World Eaters' Inner Circle's list, as their whereabouts are the most conspicuous: therefore, the World Eaters have also seen the so-called World Soul, and have suffered great losses at its hands.

"It's not gone, it's dead."

As he said this, Kahn looked at the withering forest in the distance and frowned.

"The soul of this world died about eight hundred years ago for unknown reasons, and the Savage Lords abandoned this place. These Ark Eldar seemed to have come back to retrieve the relics, but they ran into us by chance. Take all these aliens back. This harvest can at least guarantee the next seven or eight years."

"I don't think so."

Margot was a little pessimistic.

"You know, it's being consumed faster and faster."

"If our harvest had been made sixty years ago, it would have lasted for a full ten years."

“But now: I think five years at most.”

"Yes, the machine has been strained."

"The Emperor promised a hundred and fifty years: now we are nearly halfway there."

Kahn did not deny Margo's words. He just raised his chin slightly and whispered the reality that every member of the Inner Circle knew but was unwilling to face: an oppressive atmosphere enveloped the two World Eaters.

Just as Margot was thinking about how to change the subject, Kahn, who had been looking into the distance, suddenly spoke.

"Margo: Did you feel that?"

"What do you feel?"

Margot was confused.

"I mean..."

Very rare: Kahn seemed unsure of what he was going to say next.

"In our actions over the years, have you noticed a similarity? These Eldar are one of the most powerful forces in the universe, but their lives are far from comfortable. We have seen the Savage Eldar and their world souls destroyed more than once."

"If it was done by the Empire, we would have received similar war reports. If it was done by other aliens, it is unlikely in various ways: they only kill but do not occupy the land, and we have not found any traces of the use of unknown weapons."

"What could that be, to defeat or drive out these Eldar?"

"Do you suspect that there is another natural enemy of the Eldar on the other side of those portals?"

"I'm just guessing."

Kahn looked towards the foot of the mountain: row after row of Ark Eldar had their limbs carefully broken by the World Eaters, tied up, and stuffed into cages. They were then injected with large amounts of anesthetics and tranquilizers and guarded by veterans who had participated in battles for at least a hundred years.

"You also saw the terrified expressions of those Eldar warriors before they died in battle. Judging from their combat prowess and experience, these aliens shouldn't be so afraid of death, unless they will have a worse fate after death."

"Isn't your statement a little too untrue?"

Margot smiled, trying to lighten the mood.

"Maybe."

Kahn nodded.

"Maybe I'm just overthinking it."

"..."

"That's right, brother."

"what happened again?"

“Look at the world.”

Kahn pointed into the distance, guiding Margo to look at the lush green forests mixed with black and green in the distance: Although this primitive world has inevitably fallen into decline with the departure of the Savage Eldar, its scenery and wildness still exist.

The decline of nature may last for thousands or even tens of thousands of years, and the duration of human activities is insignificant compared to it.

"Don't you think this is a good place?"

"A good...place?"

Margot was a little confused: When did Kahn become interested in these things?

Didn't he only react to topics related to Angron?

"That's right: it's so quiet here, full of wildness and purity, and it's almost impossible to be disturbed by outsiders: if it weren't for the good luck of that wandering trader, we might never know that there is such a primitive world hidden on the route we have passed at least three times."

"Look at the land here, look at the forests and caves here, and the creatures here."

"Sea beasts, giant eagles, and dinosaurs."

"What do they look like to you?"

Kahn turned his head, and his usually dead eyes suddenly flashed with color.

Margo blinked.

"Uh, like what?"

------

"Tonight's dinner."

Angron muttered something incoherently, as if speaking to an invisible person beside him.

But there is no one here, only dinosaurs lying at the feet of the King of Nothingness.

He pulled out the stone spear, the broken tip was stained with monster blood. Although these weapons made of stalactites from the deepest part of the underground cave were extremely crude, they were more favored by Angron than any sophisticated Imperial equipment. Because it and its brother, the great axe made by the Primarch with branches and flint, did not carry even a trace of the glory of the so-called double-headed eagle: their raw materials were not from the world of the Empire, and their forgers were not priests and craftsmen who believed in the Emperor.

But himself.

Angron wandered this untrodden world, using the materials he wanted to forge the weapons he wanted, then killed the prey he wanted to kill, dragged it back to the cave of his own choice, ate it, and then threw the bones away or kept them as decorations.

He would amuse himself by stroking the skulls of these great beasts one by one after another after dinner, before resting on the dry stone bed, but most of the time, the Primarch would not fall asleep late at night, because some of the most powerful and vicious beasts would only appear in the moonlight.

Angron would seek them out, confronting the most powerful ones in the hopes that they would be strong enough to kill him, but in reality, all that resulted was another massive skeleton in the cave where Angron temporarily resided, each one rivaling the mightiest of the World Eaters.

Over time, when he came to this world for the third or fourth time and lived in this cave, the corpses of the giant beasts had piled up to the point where he could touch the stalactites at the top: this was something that only a War Dog-class Titan could do.

But these were minor flaws and did not prevent Angron from liking this place.

He was even a little grateful, grateful that Kahn could find this nameless world, a beautiful planet with a slow and leisurely pace, where lush forests and rugged and steep mountains were hidden under thick clouds, and there was no trace of civilization or double-headed eagle as far as the eye could see.

This was a pure, primitive world filled with only beasts and monsters, and it was breathtakingly beautiful: as he walked on the rotten leaves, Angron could even temporarily forget what a vicious galaxy he lived in. Only the nameless stench in the cave comforted him.

He would always think of how they had spent their last night together as brothers in a similar cave as the Rebels fought their final battle with the High Knights: even though it should have been colder there, it was actually warmer.

Reminiscing about the past can be emotional, even for the Primarch.

Angron thought of this sentence: as he dragged his prey, walked slowly towards the cave where he lived in the twilight, the corners of the Primarch's mouth would be raised in an invisible arc, and the animal skin clothes rubbed against his rough skin, but it was more comfortable than any carefully crafted armor.

These were the good ones: a life that was his own alone, a life that saw no trace of the Emperor and the Imperium.

He wished he could live here forever: as a primitive man, he might never speak a word to anyone else in his entire life.

Until he died: or this thing in his head took away his sanity again.

"..."

But he knew he couldn't do this.

Seeing the outline of the cave, the Primarch suddenly sighed.

Then, he seemed to look at a mountain range in the distance unintentionally: among the undulating waves on the horizon, the ordinary peak looked so inconspicuous, but Angron's gaze stopped there.

The Primarch was still pondering that question.

The question is why he wants to stay in the Empire.

At first glance, this seems to be a fixed answer that does not require any thought: everyone knows that the reason why Angron, the Lord of Nothingness, is still willing to fight under the Emperor's double-headed eagle is that he is forced to do so because he has no other choice.

In the past, Angron himself thought so too: he originally thought that this answer, which seemed like the truth, would never change.

But the power of time is greater than the Primarch imagined.

I don't know when it started, when Angron thought of this question again.

He was actually a little... uncertain?
Why he stayed: Why stay in the Empire, rather than choose a simpler life like his current one?

Is it just forced?

If he was just forced, he could actually make changes now: everyone knew that the Great Crusade had entered garbage time, and even the Lord of Mankind had left the front line. The Two-Headed Eagle no longer needed a pure conqueror like Angron as before.

They needed Morgan and Guilliman, Horus and Fulgrim more: as for what life Angron would choose, the Emperor and the High Lords cared little.

They would not care if he escaped: even if he wanted to stay in the jungle for a long time, Terra would not develop any condemnation.

He could do that, couldn't he?

After all, this place is nice.

"..."

But he didn't want to do that.

Or... can't do this?

"Hey……"

Angron sighed.

He actually knew the answer a long time ago, but he had never thought about it in that direction.

He knew that no matter how much he loved living in this pristine jungle, he couldn't stay here much longer.

He also had a legion: and a throne he didn't even want.

Of course, the former is far more important than the latter.

He could abandon the Red Sand Crown that no one cared about at any time, but if he wanted to leave the World Eaters, Angron might need a more important reason.

He could abandon them to their own devices, of course, as they had done well up to that point, but Angron could not let the War Hounds think that the Primarch was gone forever: his vacations were often only a few months, followed by cautious visits from the World Eaters.

The Primarch always wondered: whether he was on the Liberator or not, the operation of the Legion did not seem to change much, so what was the reason for their perseverance, and what was the reason for him to go back again and again?
He didn't understand.

He didn't want to understand either.

He finally saw some good qualities in these Emperor's hounds, saw their excellent performance in the war, saw that they could also become respectable warriors, saw their loyalty and trust in him: he didn't want to see more bad things, which would dilute the original memories in his mind.

so be it.

Since they crave his leadership, that’s where he’ll sit.

He didn't want to be a Primarch, but he would accept this reality.

Just for the World Eaters: For these half-decent warriors.

rather than anything else.

The Primarch withdrew his gaze, and as he walked into the cave, Angron thought he could hear his own laughter.

It was a contemptuous, light, easy laugh.

To himself.

To them too.

------

"You said... Did the Primarch discover us just now?"

"That's impossible. Didn't the Raven Guard say that their stealth technology would never have any flaws? And we didn't build this observation post too big, did we?"

"That is true, but that is the Primarch."

One of the World Eaters lowered his telescope, unsure whether to be horrified or excited.

By the Emperor, Lord Angron had actually just looked directly in his direction: he had never before held the gaze of the Primarch for so long.

But before he was too excited to pass, he began to tremble unconsciously: I hope the Primarch didn't notice them just now. Although I don't know if the Primarch will be angry, if they are exposed and cause some twists and turns in the Primarch's hard-earned vacation, the Fourth Captain will definitely not let them go.

For the Emperor's sake, that was Kahn.

Someone who can smash a person's power armor into scrap metal with his bare hands and without gloves.

"Forget it, record this: remember to inform Mr. Kahn the next time you are on rotation."

"I will."

His companion nodded.

"And then: let Lord Kahn find those Raven Guards to return the goods?"

"Not really: there is no need to destroy the relationship between our two legions for such a small matter."

"After all, we will be neighbors in the future."

"makes sense."

"Okay, I'll go get dinner: do you want something to eat later when you're on the night shift?"

"Are there any cans of Titanium?"

"You're lucky: our Primarch observation posts all follow special supply routes."

“Oh, no can opener.”

"Don't worry: I bought a few adamantium daggers the last time the caravan came."

"Nostramo goods, have a good reputation, and are quite cheap."

"That's all right. Here, I've got two of them. They were just delivered yesterday."

"Treasure it. After all, the transport ship has to hide from the Primarch's sight, which is not easy."

"Okay... huh?"

"Why is it this flavor? Do you have any other flavors? Change it for me."

"Come on, it's good to have one. We have to wait for the next transport convoy from the Far East."

"What? What happened?"

"It's nothing..."

"It's just that the Raven Guard and the Death Guard are in conflict again."

(End of this chapter)