Emperor's Bane

Chapter 862: March into Terra!

They are ready.

So, am I ready too?
After waving goodbye and watching Abaddon, the last one to leave, walk towards the seat prepared for him, the smile on the Wolf God's face suddenly disappeared.

On the resolute face of the Son of Cthonia, who looked like a god descending from heaven, his pair of sea-blue pupils were no longer as firm as before.

As he turned around, the shadow temporarily obscured the Primarch's outline: Horus quietly pursed his lips, this small action that no one noticed, telling that the Warmaster's heart was far less calm than he appeared.

Horus knew what his next words would mean, and he also knew what the consequences of his declaration would be: if there was no other way, the wolf-god swore that he would never go to such extremes.

Marching towards Terra?
Let the galaxy burn?
Reversing the direction of the Great Crusade: Will the external blade pierce the heart of the empire?

It's tempting indeed, isn't it?
Perhaps every ambitious person who is unwilling to be ordinary has dreamed of this scene in his heart.

But if you want to achieve it, you need more than just ambition.

Courage, wisdom, skill, meanness, determination, magnanimity, and a tiny but crucial bit of luck: the road to victory is like a domino effect. If even one of them fails to keep up, all the efforts and sacrifices will be wasted.

And now the problem is: he seems to be unprepared in every quarter.

He...has no confidence.

He was... a little afraid.

He feared the future: he had no confidence in what he would personally initiate.

Because he knows.

Once he gave the order, once he rolled the dice, the development of the situation would quickly go beyond his control. This was almost certain: in the face of the supreme [Fate] that was above all things in the world, the so-called Warmaster of the Empire, the master of the Great Crusade, was no different from an ordinary soldier.

In his heart, just like an actor running to the bathroom again and again before his first performance, when the War Marshal raised the wine glass in his hand, smiled skillfully at the participants on both sides and invited them to return to their seats, the anxious heart under his skin was also questioning himself again and again.

Is he really ready?

Is his army really ready?
His followers: God knows how many loyal ministers and ambitious people there are among them. Are their sharp swords and poisons ready?

Was he really going to give the order that would change the galaxy, to everyone, even though they all knew what was about to happen?
Does he really have the qualifications, ability, and obligation to set the entire galaxy on fire?

And by that time: Will the only people standing opposite him really be the High Lords?
One problem after another, each one was as despairing as facing a legion of Titans alone on the battlefield: as he once again severely urged himself, Horus did not even notice that, unknowingly, even the breath in his throat had stopped.

He stood where he was, instinctively keeping a smile on his face, watching the guests around him leave one by one, watching everyone present gradually find their seats, raising their glasses to salute their companions, and the heated discussions were like the restlessness under the dark clouds. At all times, there were at least thousands of eyes staring at the silent Wolf Shepherd God.

In the hearts of their followers, the Lord of the Moon Wolf, who guides them to victory, must have fallen into deep thought at this time: perhaps he is considering a great plan that will benefit the galaxy and last for centuries, and they will become humble but important pawns in it.

Everyone thinks so: those who can enter this banquet hall must have unquestionable abilities and loyalty.

For them, even if Horus was going to lead them on an expedition to Hell, the most serious problem would be what kind of sunscreen to prepare next.

No one would know, and no one had the courage to foresee, how serious the self-doubt Horus was now immersed in: for the first time, the Warmaster felt so clearly that the fate of the galaxy was firmly in his hands. It was so heavy yet inescapable, like a block of iron, making him feel chest tightness and shortness of breath.

He...he...

Although the button was right in front of him, the Wolf Shepherd God's fingers began to tremble.

He was excited yet timid, and the two intense emotions collided with each other, and for a moment he couldn't decide which side to go.

He should...

"grown ups."

There was only one person who would come forward to report when Horus was so silent.

"..."

Horus turned his head wordlessly, and happened to meet Malohurst's cold gaze.

Only the most perceptive people could see his fanaticism for the wolf-god under this shadow.

"Everything is ready, my lord."

A hoarse voice came out of Malohurst's breathing apparatus, as if he just happened to report the situation, or as if he had stepped out of the shadows and pointed out some truths that Horus had just forgotten.

In any case, when the Warmaster's envoy bowed slightly, saluted and left, when Horus turned his head and watched his figure disappear, the brief confusion in the Warmaster's pupils had dissipated: he was silent for a while.

Then he laughed.

"yes……"

The wolf god muttered to himself in a low voice that only he could hear.

"What choice do I have?"

The fleet has set out.

The Legion has been mobilized.

All the Primarch brothers, whether close to him or against him, whether ambitious or indifferent, had received a letter from the Wolf Shepherd God outlining the entire plan several months ago: eighteen pairs of eyes were watching his every move.

Now that things have come to this, what is the point of so-called hesitation and deliberation?

Now is not the time to choose.

Even: He has ordered the spread of rumors that would appease the military.

The Warmaster's wolf pack is enough to overwhelm the coalition forces of the three Far Eastern countries, huh?
He hoped no one was stupid enough to believe this lie.

But he also hoped someone would believe it.

The Wolf God smiled and waved to the audience in the distance. He noticed that the atmosphere of the banquet had become lively again: thousands of Gothic languages ​​with different accents and speaking habits intertwined into a chaotic music, the governors, generals and commanders toasted each other, and the Wolf God's feast had begun unknowingly.

Although this was almost the highest-level banquet in the galaxy, the Wolf Kingdom of the Wolf Shepherd God had always been like this. Horus would not put on airs in front of his followers, and he was also tired of those complicated ceremonies: for the banquet held by the Warmaster, a gold-stamped invitation was all the tedious procedures.

The Warmaster of the Empire stood at the foot of the flagpole depicting the Moon Wolf emblem, and watched with satisfaction as so many people chose to follow his ideas: After deciding on his next speech, Horus, noticing that there was still some time left, thought for a moment and dialed the communicator beside his ear.

"Agnes."

He gave his order to his lieutenant.

"Bring those letters here."

Before everything begins, he still needs the greatest support in his heart.

Support from brothers.

------

"After all, what we want to do is definitely not something that can be accomplished by mobilizing a legion."

"We need outside support: one diplomatic envoy will be more useful than ten fleets."

The captain of the Moon Wolves had just walked to his seat and sat down when he heard a familiar voice next to him.

He looked in the direction of the sound.

Sure enough, it's him!
"Labinus?"

This time, Abaddon didn't even need Frank behind him to remind him, he accurately said the name of the man in front of him: although they had never met before, this mortal was too famous.

"Lord Abaddon?"

When his name was called, Labienus turned around quickly. Apparently, he also recognized one of the three heroes who was already famous throughout the galaxy during the Great Crusade.

"You... know me?"

Seeing that the mortal in front of him was actually surprised that he could say his name, the company captain first nodded, showing his affirmation as reservedly as possible, and then quickly looked up and down at the person in front of him.

As an officer, Labienus was not impressive: he was just a short and fat middle-aged man, and Abaddon even doubted whether he could complete the most basic ten-kilometer armed cross-country run of the mortal auxiliary army.

But the captain would not look down on the man in front of him because of this: for a man who was regarded as the most trusted mortal military adviser by Horus and even described as "my Luther" in public, his appearance was not important.

The fact that he was able to lead a pure, not even fully elite, mortal army and achieve efficiency and results that surpassed the Astartes Legion in many wars was enough to show that he was indeed worthy of the position under his butt: the first row closest to the center of the banquet.

"Of course I know you, though I suppose this is only our first meeting."

Abaddon tried to keep his expression as gentle as possible, which was not an easy thing to do considering his looks, but after a simple handshake, he felt that he had established a good relationship with the somewhat mythical man in front of him.

"After all, few people will forget the man whom the Wolf God called my Luther."

"It's just a compliment."

Labienus shook his head quickly.

“The real honor is mine.”

"If it weren't for the Wolf Shepherd God, I would still be just hanging around in the lower-level army."

Abaddon smiled. He had no interest in pursuing these old topics.

In comparison, he cared more about the thing that was always talked about during the entire banquet.

"What are you discussing?"

Abaddon glanced past Labienus at the group of people he had just talked to: they were a group of governors and generals who seemed unfamiliar to him. Although Frank's voice sounded as punctual as a well-wound machine, the company captain had no interest in listening any further.

Fortunately, after those people found out that Labienus was called away by Abaddon, they didn't seem to want to participate in their conversation.

"We were just discussing some things concerning the army and the Far East."

Labienus's words were not subtle, and the captain naturally understood them immediately.

His expression turned contemptuous.

"You mean, according to the rumor, the Warmaster's wolf pack even outnumbers the Far Eastern coalition forces?"

What a foolish fantasy.

"Yes."

Labienus nodded.

“I’m just trying to tell them with facts and reasoned data: That’s not the case.”

"I see."

The company commander smiled.

"I am not so arrogant as to think that we can compete with the three powerful countries in the Far East in terms of military strength."

"Not that, my Lord."

Labienus shook his head.

"In fact, I've explained this to different people fifteen times today."

"Would you mind explaining this to me for the sixteenth time?"

"Who would say no to a hero from the Great Crusade?"

Labienus took up his glass.

"But allow me to be brief."

"Clear it."

Abaddon gestured.

"In general, I don't think our army will be larger than the three Far Eastern countries. This is an obvious fact. But at the same time, I don't think our army will be the same size as the coalition forces of the three Far Eastern countries: it's true that our army is smaller, but not so small that we can't fight against them."

"Are you sure?"

Abaddon frowned.

"Although I know very well that Nostramo is not a good place, I have been to Avalon and Macragge before. Lord Labienus: I have witnessed with my own eyes how successful the two Primarchs Morgan and Guilliman were in building their territories. With their energy, we will not be able to surpass them in a short time."

"Yes, I don't deny that."

Labienus seemed to be accustomed to this kind of questioning.

"But what I want to say is that we all know the unwritten secret: compared to Avalon and the Five Hundred Worlds, the Warmaster's Wolf Kingdom is undoubtedly more inclined towards the military field. He has always been a little... wild when it comes to recruiting soldiers."

"So, our actual military strength is far greater than the standard for our size."

"Plus, the size of the Wolf Kingdom is indeed greater than that of either Avalon or the Five Hundred Worlds. So, if we only compare it with the Second or Thirteenth Legion, we undoubtedly have an advantage in terms of military strength, but this advantage is not so great that it would be an order of magnitude larger."

"So, normally, we can't defeat the two of them together?"

"Not to mention Nostramo."

Abaddon continued to ask, while Labienus remained calm.

"That's how it should be."

"But the problem lies precisely in the Five Hundred Worlds."

"According to the accurate data we have collected over the years, Lord Guilliman has been promoting the so-called elite route in the military field since the Badab Crisis. His army has not only not expanded, but has shrunk: the current military strength of the Ultramarines is far from matching their actual size."

"This led to the fact that the so-called coalition forces of the three Far Eastern countries could not even reach the number they estimated. Of course, Mr. Morgan's Great Avalon did not have this problem. Their military strength remained stable. I even suspect that they had hidden a lot of troops."

"Why do you think so?"

Abaddon was curious.

"I wonder if you have ever noticed a detail that was deliberately concealed?"

Labienus took a sip of his wine.

"For a long time, Lord Morgan has been claiming that her development of the land east of the Damocles Gulf has been stagnant. However, if we analyze it from the star map, that area is enough to occupy about one-fifth of the entire Avalon: enough to rewrite its overall power."

"If the Dawnbreakers did not occupy a wasteland east of the Damocles Gulf, but developed enough rich worlds, they would be able to hide a large army. If this potential army is included, Avalon's military strength will far exceed our estimates, thus completely breaking the balance."

"These are just speculations."

Although he protested, the changing look in Abaddon's eyes showed that he didn't really think that way.

"What about the Midnight Lords?" "No need to think too much about it: the Midnight Lords lack the ability to launch large-scale internal expeditions. The Ghoul Stars have hindered their progress, and their kingdoms have been greatly overestimated. The actual scope that the Eighth Legion can effectively rule is actually not that exaggerated."

“So, allow me to summarize.”

Labienus stretched out his finger, dipped it slightly into the wine in the cup, and then arranged a few numbers on the stone table in front of him.

"If the upper limit of the Wolf Kingdom in the military field is fifteen, then the military strength that the Wolf God has achieved through various military-oriented policies is now ten."

"On the other hand, the military caps of Avalon and the Five Hundred Worlds are each twelve, but Avalon currently maintains around seven, while the Five Hundred Worlds only maintains six."

"That is to say, although their theoretical military ceiling is far higher than ours, they currently only have thirteen of them: not much behind us."

"However, all of this is based on the premise that Sir Morgan really gained nothing east of the Damocles Gulf. If the Dawnbreaker Legion really has a large army hidden behind that wasteland, then Avalon's military force is definitely more than seven."

"Eight, maybe even nine: who knows."

"In addition, there is one more thing. Don't use simple numbers to measure everything. Although the Wolf God's ten seems to be much more than Guilliman's six, factors such as the quality of the soldiers and the morale of defending the country cannot be taken into account. Even if the entire ten are used to attack six, it may not necessarily achieve a complete victory."

“These are just references.”

"Moreover, I believe you also know that the Wolf God has only been here for forty years, so we are naturally not as good as the two Far Eastern countries who have worked hard for a hundred years. Although our military strength exceeds that of any of them, if a protracted war is fought, we will definitely collapse first, because our foundation is far less rich than theirs."

"This is just the inevitable price we pay for prioritizing military development at the expense of livelihood."

"As for the weakness of the two countries in the Far East, it is firstly because of Guilliman's pursuit of peace and secondly because of Morgan's low profile, which has led to their failure to fully realize their military strength. And our long-term militarism has made us temporarily appear to be larger than them."

"If we give them enough time."

“We will be the weak ones.”

"..."

Abaddon frowned and nodded slowly.

"No chance of winning?"

"of course not."

Labienus immediately laughed.

"Please don't misunderstand me, my lord."

"The military capabilities and military ceilings I mentioned are only theoretical numbers, and the actual situation is far from that simple: According to our current situation, neither the Wolf Kingdom nor the three kingdoms in the Far East can mobilize all their forces to launch an expedition against the other side."

"That is to say, no matter which side of us has more power than the other, if a war breaks out, the result will not change: the side that launches the attack will basically fail, and the side on the defensive will have a huge home advantage."

"To put it simply: neither side is able to deliver a fatal blow to the other."

"And if both sides fight outside the border, there will be too many variables."

"A great victory or a disastrous defeat is possible."

"That's it."

Abaddon nodded.

"Thank you for your explanation, Marshal."

"My pleasure, my lord."

Labienus smiled and turned his gaze back to the center of the banquet hall.

"Then please answer my question as well."

"Your Excellency Shepherd Wolf God: Is he really ready to announce that?"

"that matter?"

The company commander smiled.

"You don't need my answer."

"Look, Marshal."

He looked towards the Warmaster's position and happened to see Horus slowly standing up.

"You already need to know the answer."

------

"Everyone."

Horus was not one to prepare himself for too many useless steps.

When the Warmaster realized that everyone he needed was seated, and the atmosphere in the venue had reached the right time, Horus slowly stood up: his adjutants and servants played dull tones, signaling everyone present to be quiet.

Tens of thousands of banquet attendees fell seamlessly from the excessive noise of the previous night to a deathly silence, which made people wonder if their previous liveliness was all a disguise, and in fact everyone was waiting for the destined drumbeat.

Under the gaze of millions, the Wolf Shepherd God walked to the front of the stage.

He stood there, under a row of double-headed eagle emblems symbolizing the Empire and the howling moon flag symbolizing the Sixteenth Legion, and simply glanced around at everyone present: Horus's body was as majestic as a god, and even if a genius writer spent his entire life, he would not be able to sing the praises of every detail of it.

But the Wolf Shepherd God had no intention of doing that, and there was no nonsense in his voice.

"Everyone."

He raised his glass, as if toasting to the unknown fate ahead. Only the most eagle-eyed people could keenly discover that the fingers of the Wolf Shepherd God were still trembling: he was not firm, but precisely because of this, he was extremely firm.

"I believe you all already know why I summoned you here."

"In that case, I won't say any more."

"We all know what happened in the land behind us during the forty years when we were away from the harbor of Holy Terra and shed blood and sweat for the benefit of all mankind?"

"Arbitrariness, tyranny, and deception."

"The darkness that once hid in the shadows was so deep, but now it is so arrogant: it seems that it has walked out into the sun and stood in front of all of us, with fierce eyes."

"I must admit, everyone, before I issued this order, I hesitated and was afraid, because I knew how important a move fate would make through my words. I knew that when I gave the order, the galaxy would change: we would personally walk towards the abyss ahead, and no one could tell us what was waiting inside."

“I’m not going to lie to you: what lies ahead of us is not going to be easy.”

"It may be more difficult than crushing ten orc empires, carrying out a hundred dangerous foreign expeditions, and governing the riots and poverty in forty star sectors at the same time: I am afraid that no sane person will make such a decision."

“But there are things.”

“We have to do it.”

“We have an obligation to do it.”

“We have the ability and the faith: we alone are qualified to fulfill it.”

“Not just for ourselves.”

"And for every drop of blood shed and every soul that was shed for the Great Crusade."

"What I'm telling you is: Guys, we did the best we could."

"We have spent too long waiting for their pale reasons and explanations."

"But we have gained nothing: we can only watch the situation continue to deteriorate in front of us."

Horus paused, looked around the room again, and took a deep breath.

"But it won't be like this again."

"The darkness will be contained today!"

"Since Holy Terra still ignores the wailing and suffering of various civilized worlds and continues to wield their whip of greed, eager to use their endless stomachs to devour the bloody fruits of the Great Crusade for 150 years."

"Since the High Lords have rejected all requests and sincere opinions, preferring to trust the bond of blood and interests, rather than the ability shown in countless wars and in-depth investigations, they are eager to place the nobility of the Terrans above the millions of worlds in the Empire."

"Since even the Emperor, the Lord to whom we swore to serve with our last drop of blood, the unquestionable father and savior of mankind, the true master of the Empire and the Galaxy, even his safety and life and death, even his whereabouts, even this most basic! The most sacred! The most inviolable responsibility of a subject! Cannot get an answer from Terra and the High Lords."

"Then I think that at this moment, we don't need to talk about peace, justice, calmness and rationality anymore."

"These shackles of the graceful period should no longer hold us back."

"My friends, the empire we built with our blood and sweat is now in danger. If the army loyal to the country is helpless because of a transfer order when the country is in danger, wouldn't that be the most tragic tragedy in human history?"

"So, let them continue to talk about so-called rules, power and status."

"And we have to do what a truly loyal subject should do."

Horus paused his narration and slowly raised the letter in his other hand.

"Let me tell you something, guys."

"Over the past few months, I have been in constant communication with my brothers. I have been in constant communication with the Primarchs stationed across the galaxy, steadfastly fulfilling their duties, but with their hearts filled with worry for the Imperium and the Emperor."

"For some tragic reasons, two of my brothers will not respond to my letter, but the others, and the fifteen Primarchs in addition, their replies are now firmly in my hands."

"I will be honored to announce that all of them are willing to respect my choice!"

"Fifteen Primarchs! Fifteen Legions! They are all willing to join our cause. Some will come in person, while others will send their most important confidants. We will board the Vengeful Spirit together, and let my brothers be witnesses of everything that is to come."

"They will witness the last chance I give Terra. I will reiterate our views in front of everyone. I will ask to see my father, the Lord of Mankind. If even such a simple request is met with a flat refusal by the High Lord..."

Horus did not continue: but everyone knew the hidden half sentence.

"So, everyone."

"..."

The wolf shepherd god took a deep breath.

He did not continue speaking immediately, but turned around and returned to his stone table under the watchful eyes of everyone. He carefully placed the wine glass and letters on it, adjusted the angle, and did not forget to press them down to prevent the sudden wind from blowing these precious letters away.

After doing all this, Horus slowly returned to the gazes of millions of people.

His tone was simple, clear and firm.

"In five days."

"My brothers and I will set out."

"March on Terra."

"Armed."

"With the fleet."

"With the Legion."

"..."

"Take you with me."

------

silence.

Deathly silence was the first answer given to Horus by the entire banquet hall.

There were no cheers, no applause, no thunderous oaths of allegiance. Some of the too young Moon Wolves even raised their brows in worry and looked at their father anxiously.

But Horus remained unmoved. He just stood firmly where he was, then raised his head slightly and looked quietly in one direction.

He waited a moment, perhaps just a few seconds.

Then, the rustling sound was like the first falling rain.

No one cheered, no one rebuked, no one supported or opposed, but the governors, generals, and commanders who were loyal to the Wolf God unconsciously restored their postures before this short speech.

They began to toast each other, took delicious food from the plates, and started discussing previously disconnected topics and each other's experiences: the smiles were so kind, the gestures were so smooth, and between the clash of knives and forks, low and decent laughter frequently sounded behind every lively table.

Seeing this, the Warmaster finally smiled cheerfully, just like every Luna Wolves Captain sitting in the first row and his mortal confidants like Labienus.

They knew that the current state was the best state: the Wolf Shepherd God had crossed the first threshold of his great career.

His most important subordinates, the 10,000 men who commanded the entire Wolf Kingdom for him, were not at all surprised by the Warmaster's speech: no one would think about more details, and no one would consider what impact the shocking points in Horus's speech would have on them and their families.

It was as if the speech of the Wolf Shepherd God was not to lead them to start a war that was very likely to burn the galaxy, but merely an ordinary military deployment: amid constant toasts, the heroic kings of the Wolf Kingdom followed their Primarch with peace of mind and embarked on an unknown road.

This natural and ordinary thing is even more terrifying than the frenzy of a tsunami.

The crowd continued to laugh, and more wine, meat and food were brought up one after another. The Wolf God walked down the steps in silence, returned to his seat, and raised his glass to the guests in the distance, as if this was just an ordinary banquet, and as if the Lord of the Shadow Moon Wolf had not said anything just now.

But everyone knew: even as they were toasting each other, the war machine of the Wolf Kingdom had already started moving at full speed.

They are preparing for war, a war that will most likely engulf the galaxy.

But they did not care: or rather, even if they cared about the war, if it was what Horus wanted, then they would follow.

Terra's rage.

The constraints of loyalty.

The situation in the galaxy.

Even the safety of the Emperor.

In the face of Horus' will: none of this matters.

The Wolf Shepherd God stood on a high place, howling to the moon as the only wolf king, and his huge wolf pack responded to him as always.

They gathered, they pledged allegiance, and they followed the Wolf God's footsteps with peace of mind to tear apart any prey that the Warmaster pointed out to them.

Only this time.

This prey: is called Holy Terra.

(End of this chapter)