Emperor's Bane

Chapter 864: Leman Russ only wants a peaceful life
My name is Leman Russ.

Age one hundred and ninety-three years old.

Home is in the Wolf Fang Castle area in the central mountains of Fenris Asaheim.

unmarried.

I serve the All-Father and the Imperium of Man.

Every year, 8.8 billion alien heads must be chopped off to achieve the performance target.

I don't smoke and I drink alcohol occasionally.

A party was held at home at 11 o'clock every night, and the party lasted at least eight hours.

During this time, I would force myself to get drunk, then find a way to beat up twenty unlucky guys, lie on top of them, and stay awake all night.

Every day I couldn't close my eyes even at noon, my pupils were full of bloodshot from fatigue and stress. It was even worse when I was on duty in Betanjamon: no one could hear the groans from Magnus, but they always made me uneasy.

My physiotherapists and psychiatrists were at a loss as to what to do: they all agreed that I was still alive because of the All-Father’s blessing.

So, I just want to say: As a Primarch, I have no ability to bear anything. Even the most peaceful life is still a torment for me. No matter what I am asked to do or protect, I will mess everything up in the end.

The responsibility should not be placed on me.

I should have been thrown aside: to be drunken in the wilderness like a wild dog was a fitting fate for me.

However, if I must be entrusted with any responsibility, I will not refuse.

Although I know that these responsibilities beyond my ability will sooner or later bring disaster to all of us.

I know.

I had expected this day to come.

Horus?
Sixteen legions?
A tense confrontation and a tense situation?
Hehehe...

Allfather, I know better than any of them: it could be much worse.

After all: I am still here.

------

Just like what I had said to that bastard Jonson in front of Morgan and Conrad many years ago at a banquet attended by only four brothers.

We guys.

Whenever.

It's gonna mess things up.

Too bad: they didn't listen.

------

Finding the balance between the Warmaster and Holy Terra has never been easy.

Even in normal times, even the most eloquent member of the High Lords' Council, or Sejanus, the Wolf God's most trusted man, would not easily accept this responsibility: both sides regard their honor and privilege as more important than all the truths in the world, and the results they can accept are often very different.

But in most cases, there is only room for one answer: to side with the all-powerful Imperial Warmaster or to obey the guidance of the High Lords Council: since the Emperor left Ullanor, the entire galaxy has not been able to figure out this problem.

Countless promising people have fallen from grace because of this incident, whether they were the younger generations once favored by the High Lords of Terra, or the rising stars recommended to the Warmaster by Sejanus. When they tried to find a balance between Terra and Baymon that would satisfy both sides, the cruel reality told them: not everything in this world is possible.

If you are too biased towards your own side and happen to offend the other party, then after the other party issues a serious protest, in order to ensure that the next work can proceed smoothly, the person involved will inevitably be hidden: if you are lucky, you can have a chance to come back after waiting a few years.

On the other hand, if you are too partial to the other party and unfortunately offend your own side...

At least so far, there has been no one stupid enough to be so fresh and unworldly.

More often than not, it ends up with a compromise that neither party is satisfied with, but there is nothing they can do about it. The person involved has to retreat in embarrassment, and if his boss still has some conscience, he will give him credit for his hard work: at least his career path will not be affected too much.

Although such reasonableness does not sound like the style of the Empire, how can the principles in the galaxy be eternal? The reasonableness of Terra and the Warmaster is not so much because they can truly understand the difficulties of their subordinates, but rather because they are afraid of being outdone by the other side.

Back then, the Lord of Mankind conferred titles on his sons at the Warmaster Ceremony in Ullanor, which caused countless butterfly effects throughout the galaxy. One of the less noticeable ones was that the Council of High Lords had a competitor in the field of external reputation from then on.

The establishment of the Primarch Realms made it impossible for the High Lords to suppress the worlds with an iron fist as they had expected. At the border between Terra and the Primarch Realms, there were a large number of semi-independent planets that could swing left or right at any time, and their affiliation was extremely vague.

All this is thanks to the Lord of Mankind's grand opening and closing on Ullanor: he divided most of the land in the galaxy among the various Primarchs and legions that followed him. Although he left the richest portion to Holy Terra, he did not divide its borders into fine details.

This resulted in a vast amount of undetermined boundaries between Terra and the Primarchs, and between the Primarchs themselves: if the latter could be resolved relatively harmoniously in private conversations among the Primarch brothers, then the issues involved in the former were much more serious.

In particular, the border issue between the Terran Territory and Horus's Wolf Kingdom was almost impossible to resolve through negotiation: after quickly abandoning the idea of ​​​​relying on force, both sides simultaneously wanted to win over the various governors in an attempt to put themselves in a more advantageous position.

At this time, the importance of reputation and external image becomes apparent: although the planetary governors are different, whether they are concerned about the country and the people or those who exploit the people, they will definitely hope to live in a more relaxed, more reasonable and logical system.

Thus, under the real external pressure of Warmaster Horus, an unprecedented achievement was accomplished by the High Lords.

After more than forty years of transformation and painful struggle, the High Lords' Council has truly become a supreme ruling body that, at least on the whole, has relatively gentle means and a reasonable attitude. It will take the initiative to consider the difficulties of the world under its jurisdiction and will frequently carry out purely public welfare projects out of morality rather than profit.

Although many deep-rooted problems have not changed in the details, at least in terms of face-saving, the high lords have been working hard to build a good reputation: otherwise, there will be a large number of planetary governors who will willingly turn to the flag of the Luna Wolves.

What's worse, it is not uncommon for officials who originally served Terra or the Wolf God to simply side with the other side under heavy pressure: considering that there is no extradition agreement between the two sides, this often means the leakage of a large amount of secrets and loss of face.

This situation has occurred in both camps before. In a sense, it has promoted Terra and the Warmaster to be less strict in managing their subordinates: at least those problems that are completely beyond their ability will no longer be excessively punished.

But even so, few people are willing to take the initiative to undertake the lucrative task of mediating communication between Holy Terra and the Imperial Warmaster: although anyone who can make some achievements in this issue will rise to prominence at a speed visible to the naked eye, such as the chief diplomatic adviser under Horus who once persuaded the Sigillite.

This also shows how difficult it is to regulate the communication between the two: all the geniuses in the galaxy can't come up with any solution.

That being the case: they shouldn't expect Leman Russ to come up with any good ideas.

At least that's what the Wolf King himself thought.

When Horus and Dorn sent him letters almost simultaneously, warning him of the problems that were about to occur on Terra, the Wolf King's first reaction was to convene a military meeting: to carefully discuss which target in the nearby space was worthy of his immediate expedition.

It would be best if it required an expedition of ten years.

But unfortunately, even though the new and old armies under the Primarch racked their brains, they could not come up with any good ideas: after all, the Space Wolves' territory was right next to the Dark Angels, so every time Jonson led his troops passing by, he would, in the selfless spirit of Big Brother, bring his own food to help Leman Russ clear the territory.

In the words of Jonson: This is to repay the Wolf King for his help in the Warmaster's campaign.

Leman Russ never dreamed that the bullet he fired forty-eight years ago would hit him right between the eyebrows today.

With no other choice, Leman Russ could only mobilize his own legions and all the military forces within his territory as much as possible. He confronted the Wolf Kingdom's army, which was enough to make his gums ache just by looking at it, while trying his best to communicate with the rear.

Terra, Dorn, Jonson, Ferrus, even Lorgar: anyone would be fine, he didn't want to face all this alone.

As for turning against him and joining Horus?

This idea had never occurred to the Wolf King's rough mind.

Not that he was particularly loyal to Terra.

But Leman Russ was very clear that as the Emperor's appointed guardian of the Solar Segmentum and the first watchdog of the Terra Imperial Palace, if even he chose to defect, it would cause unimaginable devastation. Jokingly speaking, Horus did not want to see Leman Russ defect even more than Holy Terra did.

Facts have proved this.

After realizing that he could not escape his duties as the garrison commander of the Solar Sector, Leman Russ could only restrain his attitude, intensify his contacts with Dorn, and tentatively send a message back to Horus: The Wolf God replied so quickly that people could not help but wonder if he had been prepared for it.

There was no need for Russ's hint. In the next letter, the Warmaster patted his chest and expressed his willingness to abide by all the rules and that the procedural issues would be carried out according to Leman Russ's instructions: there would be no questions throughout the process.

He would not bring any troops with him, and if the Wolf King insisted, the Imperial Warmaster was willing to take off his armor, wear civilian clothes, and walk alone to the Heracleofenr without any weapons to be inspected: and receive security services provided by the Space Wolves Legion during the subsequent journey.

Although these enthusiastic words were nothing more than exaggerations, the Wolf King still breathed a sigh of relief: It seemed that the Warmaster had no intention of using force at least for now, and he still wanted to have a good talk with Holy Terra within the rules left by the Emperor.

As for taking over Horus' security work.

He is not crazy: there is no need to cause himself so much trouble for no reason.

Maybe things can still turn around.

It hasn't reached the worst yet...

Leman Russ gained confidence, and before Horus arrived, he received replies from Dorn and Malcador, who both agreed to the Warmaster's request to enter the solar system: the Wolf King naturally had no reason to veto.

But then, where Horus should enter the Solar Segmentum became a new point of conflict between the two sides. Leman Russ suggested taking the route through Fenris, but Horus himself wanted to go through Betanjamon: the Warmaster had heard rumors about Magnus's prison, and he hoped to stay in this world for one night.

The wolf king refused sternly, and the two sides finally reached a compromise: to go through Alicia, a civilized world with abundant airborne troops. The scenery there is beautiful, and the emerald wilderness can allow the wolf god to spend a happy night.

Thus, Leman Russ' fleet stayed in Alicia for a full month. He first waited for the arrival of Horus's Vengeful Spirit: the mighty army following behind the Warmaster impressed the Wolf King deeply. It was an army that was enough to destroy his fiefdom.

God knows how much power Horus has accumulated during these fifty years of conquest.

But these mortals were nothing but pale and powerless compared to the guys who arrived one after another in the following time and were regarded as the real trump cards by the Warmaster.

The Queen of Glory-class battleships and the fleets behind them from all over the galaxy brought onlookers to witness the Warmaster's ascent to Loki: from the closest Chemos to the farthest Avalon and Macragge, all the legions had never been so united as they were now.

Emperor's Pride, Bladestorm, Blood and Tears, Endurance, Fireforge...

Inadvertently, Horus may have accomplished a feat that even his genetic father had never achieved: he really only used a simple order to make the scattered legions operate according to his will. The authority and power of the Imperial Warmaster were fully demonstrated at this moment.

At least, when the huge shadows cast by ten Queen of Glory-class battleships connected together covered the lush green fields of Alicia, the poor King of Fenris, like all ordinary people in this world, was frozen in place by the shock cast at that moment.

Ten Glorious Queens.

In addition to the eight Primarchs, including Horus, who personally participated in the Warmaster's ascension and fall, Morgan and Conrad, who did not arrive in person, were also generous enough to specially dispatch a ship for their adjutants who came to participate on their behalf, so that their most trusted offspring would not lose face in front of other uncles.

The Star's Cry and the Dawn: They are the flagships of Lana and Sevatar respectively, while the fleets of the Dark Angels, Ultramarines, Raven Guard and other legions have unconsciously gathered around them, vaguely separated from the group of the Vengeful Spirit.

However, Leman Russ could not see this overly vague boundary line. The Wolf King was troubled by another thing: when he watched the Queen of Glory on the opposite side pile up one by one in the boring wait day after day, Leman Russ realized a problem.

He was alone, with only the Auxiliary Marshal and the Admiral by his side: the two happened to be patrolling the front line when they were captured by the Sigillite and his colleagues in the rear, and were forced to become the unfortunate High Lord as a partner with the Wolf King.

On the other side: there are eight Primarchs.

So, does he really have to sit here and wait for the War Marshal to come and pay him a visit, as the Wolf God said in the letter?
Although theoretically, there was nothing wrong with what he did, but what should the other Primarch brothers do: let them wait? Or let them come to see Leman Russ together?

He doesn't have that much face.

Damn it, if Morgan was here, at least he could have helped him smooth things over.

The wolf king rubbed his temple in pain.

Finally, when the Alpha, a symbol of the Hydra Legion, finally arrived and joined the Warmaster's fleet, Leman Russ's fragile psychological defenses were still crushed: he took the initiative to send a letter to Horus, hoping to board the Spirit of Vengeance as a brother.

The Wolf Shepherd God naturally gave his best welcome.

The King of Fenris didn't even dare to bring a few more guards. He only brought four people: two were the [Newcomers] of the Sixth Legion, reliable guys who couldn't utter a word without the Primarch's orders, and the other two were naturally the two unlucky High Lords.

There is no need to talk about the smoothness and worries along the way. When Russ and his party finally stood on the Spirit of Vengeance, the welcome ceremony that came upon them was so grand that even if the Wolf King emptied his mind of memories, he could not find any ceremony that could compare to it.

Even the two well-informed high lords couldn't help but marvel at the extravagance.

An entire chapter of Luna Wolves came to their review: yet another proof that the Warmaster secretly emulated the Ultramarines, and the intoxicating fragrance and the path forged in adamantium seemed to have no end. Horus was waiting for them at the end of the column, and he greeted the Wolf King with brotherly enthusiasm, and flattered the two High Lords with solemn ceremony.

It was as if the warmaster who had been aggressive towards Terra before was not him.

Afterwards, the Wolf God personally led them to the banquet hall of the Spirit of Vengeance. The splendor and enthusiasm along the way were dazzling: the Wolf King even suspected that the not-so-long corridor he had just walked through was enough to burn up eleventh of the taxes of an entire star zone.

In front of them, Horus was undoubtedly the most generous host, and no one could resist his enthusiasm and charm: in just less than twenty minutes, even the two high lords beside the Wolf King began to whisper in private that the previous confrontation seemed to be just a misunderstanding.

They did not sense even the slightest bit of hostility from Warmaster Horus.

And neither did Ruth.

But this only frightened him even more.

This fear extended all the way to the moment Horus pushed open the door to the banquet hall.

"Come on, everyone is waiting for you."

The Wolf Shepherd God's enthusiastic voice made every pair of eyes in the banquet hall focus on the Wolf King.

"..."

Leman Russ could hear himself instinctively holding his breath.

What did he see?
He saw Jaghatai Khan, Sanguinius, Fulgrim and Mortarion, who were gathered at the table in the center of the banquet room, chatting like ordinary friends: the Wolf King clearly remembered that he had seen the same scene after the Warmaster Ceremony in Ullanor.

Phoenix had a frivolous look on his face, and it was obvious that he was not serious about the current situation. Khan was in a similar state, but his thoughtful eyes showed that he had just figured out the result, and was not simply not paying attention.

On the other side, Mortarion was still chattering on and on. Although his attitude was the worst, he should be the one among the four Primarchs present who cared most about the Emperor's actual situation.

As for Sanguinius, who was sitting nearby with a sad face, it could not be said that he did not care about the Emperor at all, but the main reason for his presence was because of the Warmaster Horus: in addition, it was also important to determine whether there was really no risk of the Emperor appearing again.

He saw Vulkan, the kindest brother, who was sitting on the empty side with a worried look on his face. He felt uncomfortable with what he saw from the bottom of his heart. When he looked at the Wolf King with hope, Russ could only turn his face away uncomfortably.

He saw Angertai and Kahn. Theoretically, these two warriors were just meeting for the first time, but now they were chatting together like real friends. Hearing the voices, Kahn just glanced at them indifferently. But Angertai, for some reason, pretended not to see the Wolf King. It was really strange.

He saw Corax, surrounded by Koswain, Lana and Gage, who were discussing something seriously: if it weren't for his tall stature, the Raven King would look a little different from the warriors around him.

In the shadows further behind, Sevatar seemed disdainful of getting involved: his eyes were looking around at everyone, and even when he accidentally met the Wolf King's gaze, he just nodded nonchalantly, showing no respect for the identity of the Primarch.

In a more remote place, the Wolf King also saw Fricks, the representative of the Iron Warriors. As for the captain of the Tenth Legion, Santo, he was standing silently behind Fulgrim like an ordinary waiter.

But no matter who they were, no matter what they were doing before, only the Warmaster's voice made everyone's eyes turn to him, containing completely different emotions: hostility, curiosity, worry, or exploration, surrounding Leman Russ, making the Wolf King feel rare tension.

But what made him even more nervous was that the Wolf God just smiled easily, took a step forward, waved his hand casually, and all gazes, no matter whether they respected the Warmaster from the bottom of their hearts or not, were retracted in unison. Even in such a small matter, no one would disobey the will of the Warmaster Horus.

Looking at the Wolf God lifting a heavy weight there, Leman Russ could hear the two high lords beside him swallowing their saliva quietly in their throats: him too.

And at this moment, the voice of Horus sounded in his ears.

"Alright, brother."

"Don't be so nervous."

"Speak in front of everyone."

"How are we supposed to follow your orders in the coming time?"

"..."

The wolf king's brows twitched and he began to groan in his heart.

Lupe Carr.

What kind of monster have you grown into without us knowing?

Really...

"It's strange..."

As the Wolf King was lamenting in his heart, the Crow Prince, who was standing at the farthest corner of the room, was also frowning quietly in the shadows: his eyes were searching the room, and his frown deepened with every circle he made.

"What's weird?"

Someone heard his voice: Rana, speaking on behalf of Morgan, was standing next to Sevatar, carefully stuffing a booklet into his armor.

The two of them were not close friends, but they could at least trust each other on the battlefield.

"Nothing, just..."

To confirm his doubts, Sevatar looked around again.

"Take a closer look: Are we missing someone here?"

"..."

"hiss……"

Lana rubbed his chin.

“The numbers don’t seem to match.”

"But... who's missing?"

Sevatar blinked and thought carefully.

"I...I don't know either."

(End of this chapter)