Emperor's Bane

Chapter 895 Don't Break the Fourth Wall (Part 1)

"You know, I like family dramas."

"The more complex it is, the more I like it."

“Since 60 million years ago, I have only ever watched dramas in theaters and private cinemas, and I have never changed this habit. To be honest, it is not easy to stick to this hobby, especially considering the current situation of our race.”

Whenever he spoke of his pride, King Djoser would like to fiddle with his precious hourglass.

He would place this thing on an energy field track, then grab the top with his fingers and throw it forcefully, keeping it spinning in mid-air: the disturbed particles would make an electric-like sound in the air until they lost power, and then the Hierophant would catch it in his palm.

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, and I grabbed it...

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, and I grabbed it...

Without a doubt, this is a habit that would offend anyone else present.

"Can't you just put that thing down?"

Empress Kames threw away the blank book in her hand, on which there were still some strange strokes. Her metal body was the same color as the remaining amber throne, and the resurrection orb hanging behind her head made a crackling sound because of its owner's rage.

"Don't forget, Zoser: the last time you failed to catch this thing, it directly caused three star systems to disappear."

"The Angemunos dynasty was almost exposed to those humans because of this."

"Of course I remember."

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, and I grabbed it...

"And I also remember that the Resuscitation Council has already ruled on this matter: they acquitted me."

"That's because they didn't wake me up!"

With a wave of her hand, the books that had been tossed into the corner returned to her palm.

“I am clearly the expert in studying crimes such as accidental crimes and unauthorized storage of dangerous materials.”

“Of course I know, Doctor.”

Emperor Djoser bent his throne at a suitable angle: this was beneficial to his still-unconscious neural matrix and vocal system.

“But you should respect the recovery courts: they have never been questioned for centuries, and we should not break this noble consensus.”

"consensus?"

Empress Kames scoffed: She has never been known in history for her magnanimity.

"A bunch of overlords, crowned generals, high-ranking alchemists and tomb engineers, and a few unlucky emperors who woke up to find that they were the only ones who had woken up in the whole world. Why should I care about the laws they made and the consensus they reached? Two-thirds of them are usurpers!"

“At least Emperor Ausuria deserves respect.”

"Do you really think it's just a coincidence that her father and seven brothers with inheritance rights died on the same day?"

"No one will care about this after they wake up."

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, and I grabbed it...

"We should care about something else."

A sharp laugh came from the long, thin chin.

"Isn't that erudite PhD in law now only interested in drawing simple sketches on books?"

"What are you drawing this time? I remember the last one was your parents' love story: Oh, Princess Penelope and Guard Baldwin's love across class is truly precious..."

"What does this have to do with you?"

Emperor Camus quickly closed her book.

"Of course it's none of my business."

After he finished speaking, he shrank back into his chair and continued fiddling with his hourglass.

"do you know?"

"Of all the ethical dramas, my favorite is the kind that weaves a complex web of relationships with just a few characters: this ingenious network structure and complex character logic is the essence of drama, not so-called dialogue or gorgeous scenes."

"As long as the plot conflicts are appropriate, even a simple stage can be better than a lavish concert."

He paused.

"That's why I particularly love the human race, this emerging species: their emotions are just so beautiful."

"One person can be another's sister, mother, friend, enemy, beloved, hated, actual subordinate, emotional superior, confidant, and target of concealment: nothing makes you believe you are still alive more than experiencing the complex relationships among these beings firsthand and then using your central processing unit to unravel all the threads."

"This feeling is indescribable: perhaps you really should try it, my friends."

"They only need five minutes of conversation to overturn all past relationships."

"Compared to these humans, our technician playwrights are a bunch of terrible editors."

The French emperor sat on his throne, rambling on and on.

Do you remember the last performance of "Battle of Heaven"?

"They spent ten years and still couldn't put together a decent historical drama based on a real person: it was utterly devoid of artistry."

"Compared to our pathetic colleagues, these humans are truly dedicated."

Finally, Emperor Djoser put away his ridiculously stupid hourglass.

Camis breathed a sigh of relief.

Almost, so close: she had never realized she could be so good-tempered, even after death.

Initiating a war between two dynasties at will could result in a sentence of exile or death from the Revival Council: even the French emperor could not defy this will.

"You seem quite interested in these humans?"

"They will definitely produce a little surprise."

Zoser touched his smooth chin.

"Especially some of them: exceptionally gifted."

"For example?"

"For example, this one: named Peturabo."

The orange eyepiece of Zosser was gleaming.

“I saw great potential in him.”

"..."

Kames let out a soft sigh.

"So: that's why the Resurgence Council is sending representatives to check if you've committed the crime of leaking secrets—"

"call--"

Reality was ripped apart with a deafening roar, and a burst of intense light illuminated the faces of the two diaphas: accompanied by eerie green flames burning in the void, a fully armed space necromancer held his crescent-shaped blade, using the particles on the blade to illuminate the diaphas' thrones.

"Zocer, Cames."

The person nodded.

“I am Emperor Thutmose, and I have come here on a special mission from the Council of Resurrection.”

------

"Ah, my dear Thutmose."

"I remember the last time we met was when we were besieging the Star God [Burner] together."

Emperor Djoser leaned on his throne and glanced at the infamous execution scythe: as one of the executioners appointed by the Council of Resurrection, Emperor Thutmose, who had lost his entire dynasty at the end of the Heavenly War, had diligently executed many of his colleagues since he was awakened from his sleeping sarcophagus in the Council World.

Djoser even suspected that he was enjoying it.

That's right, even space necromancers can die: even the Archon among space necromancers.

As the theoretical highest authority of the entire space undead race when the Silent King is absent, the Resurrection Council's key means of intimidating various patriarchs and overlords is that they can legally sentence a space undead noble to death through various ancient laws.

Then, simply shut down the rebirth protocol and order the executioner to completely dismember the criminal space necromancer noble, and the execution is complete: although for a considerable number of emperors and overlords, a peaceful end is not necessarily a bad thing, for a long time, few people have dared to provoke the authority of the Resurrection Council.

Of course, the most important reason is that most of the truly powerful dynasties have not yet awakened.

Sotek, Menak, Szalak: Even if their overlords committed crimes, the Resurrection Council could do little against their armies: their authority over the death penalty only extended to less noble nobles and lords who had unfortunately lost their armies.

Djoser was not among them.

This is also why he warmly invited his old friend Thutmose to sit opposite him.

"let me guess."

He resisted the urge to flip the hourglass.

"It was that unlucky bastard Osuria who suggested that the Revival Council use legal means to summon me, right?"

"And no one else has any objections?"

"That's not the point."

Thutmose took a moment to nod to the silent Camus beside him: as comrades who had fought side by side for countless years in the War of Heaven, the relationship between the three emperors was far from strained.

The fact that the Revival Council sent Thutmose already speaks volumes about their stance.

"It was the high-ranking alchemist Quel'Khan who discovered that your dynasty was experiencing some kind of deliberate... technology leakage."

The executioner placed the giant scythe on the floor.

“You know, certain technologies that are theoretically unique to our race have suddenly appeared elsewhere.”

“The later races that mastered it could not possibly have possessed this technology: there must be something fishy about it.”

"And then you started suspecting me?"

"It's not just you."

Thutmose glanced at Camus, seemingly casually.

"In fact, there are twenty-three hegemons and the French emperor on the summons list being considered by the Resurgence Council."

"This even includes..."

He paused for a moment, then uttered that damned name in a tone as if facing a formidable enemy.

"Tarasin".

"call……"

Camille instinctively took a deep breath, even though she forgot that she couldn't do it at all.

"Zocer".

Thutmose stared intently at his friend.

"Don't tell me you'd be crazy enough to work with Tarasin."

"Have you forgotten how the Abrina dynasty, which was previously associated with him, disappeared in a solar storm?"

"And what about those smaller dynasties in the northwest of the galaxy?"

Emperor Kames interjected.

"They disappeared one after another a century ago, but there was no serious celestial disaster or trace of large-scale activity by the Adarin at that time: the Resurrection Council has always suspected that there was a mole who brought them in. You know, our losses even included a World Engine."

"Especially considering that all the precious artifacts and priceless historical books on that world engine have also disappeared."

Thutmose added quietly.

"Because of this incident, the Resuscitation Council has kept the summons against Tarasin."

"Even though he later volunteered to oversee the aftermath, the Resuscitation Council still suspected that he was closely connected to the matter."

"The only thing that can stop the executioners is the powerful force of the Nihirak dynasty itself."

"That's really unpleasant to hear."

Emperor Djoser sat up straight.

“My dynasty may not be as powerful as Nihirak’s, but do you think I am weak and easily bullied?”

"No one would hold the Deathfearers in contempt for one of the most technologically advanced dynasties in history."

Thutmose's tone was flat. "That's why the Resurgence Council wants to know about you, or rather, what you're all doing."

"More than twenty Dharma Emperors and Overlords, the combined power of you is enough to inspire fear."

"Are they worried that I'm leaking secrets to humanity?"

"No, they're worried you've been scammed by Tarasin."

"The leak is a minor matter: but who knows what that Solanams man is up to now?"

"As you know, for us right now, losing more than twenty high-ranking nobles at the same time is intolerable."

"..."

Djoser did not reply immediately; he simply looked at Camis, who was also standing silently to the side.

"Is that what you think too?"

"If what you're doing is safe: then I think you should tell me."

Camis then took out her book.

"After all, I might join as well."

"You're right: life is just too boring."

"..."

"Ok."

"Anyway, this will soon be no secret."

------

"You know this person, right?"

“Petulab: You just said that.”

Reminded by the somewhat impatient voice of his Viscount Kames, Thutmose recalled his long-forgotten memories.

He nodded.

"That's right: I remember it was the human Primarch."

The executioner was absolutely certain of this.

Contrary to expectations, despite appearing to be merely a group of decrepit old men who have lost their future and souls, the Necromancers of space possess a profound understanding of the current galactic situation, at least regarding the Emperor of Man and his empire: they can even discern the nature of the Primarch and know what plans the Lord of Man is secretly plotting.

This is not a difficult task for them.

As for the reason, it's nothing more than the eternal boredom of the current space necromancer nobles.

As undead beings awakened at this time, they were destined for misfortune. Had they awakened any later, coinciding with the promised awakening of their entire race, they would surely have rallied a massive army and waged a fair war against humanity, this arrogant upstart, to reclaim the galaxy.

Putting aside everything else, the fighting prowess of those emperors and principalities is still very enticing: many victors and crowned generals who are obsessed with martial arts have always longed for the opportunity to face such powerful opponents head-on.

But now, it's too early.

The galaxy is a place fraught with danger. Even skilled space necromancers cannot guarantee that every slumber will end perfectly. Space necromancers will always awaken due to various accidents, and they will have to face the chaos of reality and the fact that they are just one in a million unlucky ones among all their kind.

This number is so small that even the most reckless crowned general would not want to confront the human empire head-on.

In order to protect their sleeping brethren, they could not even forcibly wake others: they could only try to endure the long years before the promised time.

For these bored nobles, the rise of the human empire and its races was nothing short of a perfect farce to pass the time.
At least they do seem to be quite capable of causing trouble.

And... he's also very talented.

“At least this Peturabo is very talented.”

Emperor Djoser stood before his two friends, behind him a semi-transparent projection bearing a bust of Perturab and his throne of the abyss.

"A rudimentary machine... but it's certainly a clever idea."

Upon first seeing this colossal structure, Thutmose gave his assessment.

"Given time, the creator of this colossal structure may indeed produce a great work."

"It's even comparable to the world's engine."

“You’ve hit the nail on the head, Thutmose.”

Zoser clapped his hands exaggeratedly.

"You know, old friend, out of boredom and for reasons of my personality, I've always enjoyed observing the development of these younger races."

"Of course I know."

Thutmose stroked his segmented chin.

Every emperor and overlord has their own way of passing the time.

Some French emperors were eccentric and only liked to fuss over their own armies and territories. They usually stayed in the depths of their palaces and would only lead their armies into battle in a fit of rage when their borders were offended.

Some patriarchs, on the other hand, enjoyed collecting, whether it was historical research on the past of the Fearless Civilization or cultural traditions that were almost lost, they considered them priceless treasures: they would also mobilize terrifying legions for even a single rumor.

These are troublesome thorns in the side of the low-key recovery council.

Compared to them, Djoser, who simply enjoys observing various emerging races, is already quite worry-free.

Although he has had complaints in recent years.

After all, humanity's great expeditions are rapidly dwindling its list of observable species.

"So, what's so special about this Peturabo? What makes him worth your attention?"

Zosel paused for a moment.

"pretty good."

"Without any guidance, he found the Path of the Enlightened Ones all by himself."

"And he is not even two hundred years old."

"..."

Thutmose even pondered for a moment before he could recall what this enlightener actually was.

"Now? Impossible!"

Then, he immediately realized what was happening.

"With their current technology, they simply can't do it!"

“I’ve reminded you many times, Thutmose.”

Emperor Djoser seemed to have anticipated this, looking down at his friend with a kind of frivolous pride.

"Don't confuse the Primarchs with humans: don't even confuse them with any normal living beings."

"To give a very simple example."

“I’m pretty sure that this Peturabo recently received an invitation to a throne in the Warp.”

"Please: yet another throne?"

Kames laughed sharply.

"Isn't this too much? It's practically a family business."

Do you find this strange?

Djoser looked at his other friend.

"I just find it... ironic."

Camis shook his head.

"The authority over the warp is like it's free, appearing in clusters within the same family."

Is there such a possibility?

Djoser's eyepieces were glowing.

"It's not a problem with this family."

"It was this human emperor who gathered those warp matter that were originally candidates for the throne into the real universe and made them his sons."

"For these beings known as Primarchs, gaining the attention of the throne does not signify their success; it only means that they have truly displayed their talents. Those who do not receive it are doomed, like fruits that rot on the ground before they are ripe."

"Whether they succumbed to individual will or never reached that level, they simply failed to realize their potential."

"This is perfectly normal: not all the fruit on a tree can be ripe."

"According to you, it would be strange if they didn't receive the throne's recognition and invitation?"

"Yes."

Emperor Djoser nodded.

"In other words, receiving an invitation to the throne is not a particularly rare thing. In my past observations, at least four-figure geniuses from different civilizations and races have received invitations to the throne. This is just proof: proof that in the eyes of the warp, you are an individual capable of changing the fate of the entire galaxy."

"But having ability and being successful are two different things."

"This also means that a throne can extend an invitation to hundreds or thousands of candidates, a significant portion of whom will ultimately refuse it, either out of pride or out of fear of losing their free will: only those who crave power or believe they can defeat the warp will formally accept the throne's invitation."

"But among these people, only a very small number can become the sole candidate."

"Being the only candidate is something to be proud of."

"Because it means you are no longer just capable of changing the galaxy: you have changed the galaxy."

"In the current galaxy, there is only one and a half beings as great as this."

"There used to be two."

"Until the thief dies."

"But in any case: Peturabo is not among them."

"This is normal."

Emperor Camus nodded.

"If I remember correctly: all those who embark on the path of the Enlighteners will eventually reject the Warp?"

"Compared to an entire new world, the crown of the old world is nothing special."

"And I also remember..."

Emperor Kames hesitated for a moment.

"In the past, not only us and the Eldar, but also in the previous human civilizations, when they were still called the Golden People, were there individuals who embarked on the path of the Enlightened Ones? Although the number was relatively small, after all, the Golden People were not a civilization that lasted for a very long time."

Not many: but there are some.

Among the various patriarchs of the Necromancer Dynasty, Patriarch Djoser, who was particularly renowned for his research into technology and observation of these newer races, was undoubtedly the most authoritative answerer.

"But they all failed."

"It's not a failure."

Emperor Thutmose interrupted: "His eyepiece was always fixed on Djoser."

Rather: They are all dead.

"Some of them are due to internal struggles and accidents."

"Some gave up voluntarily halfway through."

"Some couldn't resist the temptation and chose those crazy technologies that were all about quick success and instant benefits."

"As for the rest..."

At this point, Thutmose stared intently at Djoser's face, which was covered in gold patterns.

"Of course, I remember."

Emperor Djoser let out a muffled laugh.

"Those who truly persevered after the great wave of change: every single one of them was killed by my own hands."

(End of this chapter)