Emperor's Bane

Chapter 909 Lawlessness

Chapter 909 Lawlessness
"Sevatar."

"What's wrong, Father?"

"I have an idea."

"..."

------

"When he said those words, I knew I was in deep trouble."

After easily and cheerfully handing over the mission to the newcomer Talos to the Far Eastern frontier, Prince Raven seemed to be in a very good mood. He lit a cigarette, and through the embers, Talos could clearly see the Avalon logo on the cigarette pack.

He wasn't the only one who saw it.

“I thought you would support Nostrama’s local products like the Primarch did, Sevita.”

Shen's voice came from the shadows, and Talos then noticed that this Primarch servant, who was not known for his martial prowess, occupied a rather high position: he sat to the left of Conrad's throne, second only to Sevita, who was able to sit to the right of the Primarch.

However, judging from his actual performance, this attendant's confidence certainly exceeded his ability.

"Of course I support domestic products."

The crow prince, a cigarette dangling from his lips, exhaled wisps of white smoke that made his skeletal face appear even more grotesque. He seemed to be completely oblivious to the pleasures of tobacco, merely chewing on the smoke: Talos believed that if Severta so desired, he could survive simply by chewing on these unseen things.

Among the lower ranks of these legions, especially the warriors from Nostramore, the Raven Prince was a figure whose mythical status was in no way inferior to that of the Primarch: if the Primarch was an invincible god, then Sevita was an omnipotent demigod, and even the most outrageous things seemed reasonable when applied to him.

As for emperors?

They don't usually talk about emperors.

This title is so offensive that it's inappropriate to mention it on the Nightfall.

Even though Nostramo is no longer the eternal star it once was, the sun is still a very foreign concept to them, separated by clouds thick enough to obscure the entire mountain: something that needs respect but is not essential.

The Nostramas might think this way, while the veterans of Holy Terra were more reserved, but they also wouldn't talk much about the Lord of Man in their daily conversations: while Terrans in other legions could reminisce repeatedly about the glorious days of fighting alongside the Emperor, the Terrans of the Midnight Lords had little to say.

From the very beginning, they were the ones doing the dirty work: punitive and policing operations were almost exclusively their domain.

How could an emperor possibly personally command a team that only knew how to skin people and dig out their bones?

Since that's the case, I won't go into it any further.

As for the others, whether they were Far Easterners from Avalon or descendants of the Ghoul Stars, they had little to do with the Emperor. To them, Conrad and Morgan were the visible gods, the ultimate guide to respecting this system.

Just as bitter cigarettes produced on Nostrama are considered a natural local product, cigarettes imported from Avalon are not only of better quality, but are also rarely considered entirely foreign: after all, whether it is two Primarchs, two Legions, or two nations, their entanglements are so deep that there is no need to make excessive distinctions.

"However, even so, I will not go out of my way to the Far East frontier to buy my daily necessities."

Sevita exhaled a thick cloud of white smoke.

"As for this thing, it's a diplomatic gift."

"I got it during my last trip to Avalon."

"Lord Morgan would give you this?"

"I suppose so. I just casually shoved it back from her private office: she didn't know."

This answer caused a moment of silence in the meeting room.

Everyone, including Talos, looked at the Raven Prince with a newfound respect.

“Let me make this clear first, Sevita.”

Orfion coughed heavily.

"The next time the Dawnbreakers challenge you to a group duel, we won't help you anymore."

"We don't need you."

The crow prince gave a disdainful laugh.

“I can take down two Knights of the Round Table, or even three Knights of Lefebvre, all by myself.”

"Of course, not Terminator A."

"Besides, I can always find help: the Eighth Legion isn't all useless like the Primarch."

"really."

"You're right."

"That's true."

Upon hearing this, everyone present, except for Talos, nodded in agreement, causing the young apothecary to widen his eyes in horror.

"What's wrong, kid?"

Sevita naturally noticed this.

"Forehead……"

Talos hesitated for a moment.

"Is this the Nightbat Council?"

"of course."

The crow prince smiled at him and gestured to a circle of his colleagues.

"Considering that everyone here is a highly intelligent mammalian being, I once suggested to the Primarch that this place be renamed the House of Animals, but the Primarch did not agree: which is truly a pity."

"He thinks the name sounds awful?"

"No, he thinks we're not qualified."

Sevita spat on the ground.

"Honestly, hearing those words severely damaged my self-esteem as a Nostramo person."

"Me too."

Orfion and Shen nodded solemnly: they were both Nostramas.

"So, what's wrong, kid Talos?"

"I can't help but ask," said Zalost, the think tank director, sitting next to the pharmacist.

"I just... I just don't quite understand."

Talos nervously adjusted his breathing, afraid that his next words would offend the people present, especially the chain smoker sitting on the throne.

The Primarch is above, that's Sevita.

In the entire Eighth Legion, he was the only one who could fight Bayar of the Dawnbreaker to a dubious draw: when both sides were so fanatical that they were ready to draw their swords and fight to the death to determine the winner, they were slapped to the ground by their respective Primarchs and then dragged back to their respective warships without explanation.

"What do you not quite understand?"

"As the Nightbat Council, we are the Primarch's handpicked advisors, shouldn't we..."

Talos took a deep breath.

"Show him more respect?"

"..."

The question brought an unusual silence to the room.

They remained silent for several minutes: six pairs of eyes, each with its own distinct expression and meaning, stared intently at Talos, who was drenched in cold sweat.

In the end, Sevita nodded and retrieved the poor medicine from this torture.

“First, Talos.”

"I'm here!"

There's something wrong with what you said.

“We were chosen by the Primarch himself: you were just someone we temporarily brought in to make up the numbers.”

"..."

"Secondly..."

The crow prince finished his last puff of cigarette, then threw the remaining butt into his mouth and chewed it slowly.

"I can understand why you still have some unrealistic fantasies about our father of genes."

"This is a mistake that all of you have made."

"And as compensation for you."

Sevita looked to his right, towards Shen's position.

"After Primarch Conrad returns: You will replace Shen as his squire."

"……what?"

Talos looked up in surprise.

Is this something that Sevita can decide?

No... that's not the point...

"This...this is compensation?"

"It can also be understood as punishment."

Barbatos laughed happily.

"But don't worry, the sentence won't be long: it will only last until the moment you voluntarily give it up."

"or……"

Sevita leaned forward, casually toying with his powered halberd, a subtle smile on his face that held a hint of both indulgence and threat.

"When you discover that he has filled in your name on all his credit card applicants' forms without telling you."

As soon as Prince Crow finished speaking, Shen raised his head.

"Or when he gets so bored that he rejects your thirty-sixth option and adopts the original one."

Next is Vajahan.

"Of course, there's another possibility: you'll be assigned to bathe his pet Katachon demon and giant mosquitoes."

"Or it could be that at 11 p.m. you're asked to prepare a 30,000-word speech that he needs to use at 8 a.m. the next morning."

"We've also arranged for you to be a translator."

Zalost smiled kindly.

"And when you finally finish writing it."

A cold glint flashed in Barbatos's eyes.

"But he was found to have thrown away his notes and walked onto the stage empty-handed in front of a group of native audience members who couldn't understand Gothic at all."

"And you have to do simultaneous interpretation for him: then he'll use all sorts of dialects and slang you've never heard of before."

"Of course, these are not the most serious ones."

The last one to stand up was Orfion.

"After all, we've all been through these things: they're things that you can just endure and get through."

"But there are some things that can't be tolerated."

"For example?"

Talos was unaware that his voice was trembling with fear.

"For example, his outlandish missions: especially when you need to go around with him and visit various legions."

"He always does things on a whim."

"I'll have you tell Dorn a joke."

"I'll have you whiten Vulcan's skin."

"Let you dance with Guilliman's mom."

"Let you have tea with Peturabo's sister."

"Let's play hide-and-seek with Conrad."

"I'll use you to shield myself from drinks when I'm having dinner with Lemanrus."

"Find fault with Johnson's military plans in the letter, then have you deliver the message." "Sneak a picture of Lord Morgan hosting a banquet for you, then post yours in the Dawnbreakers' square."

One after another, a lawless madman stood proudly at the center of the Nightbat Council's round table.

"So we cherish your arrival, Talos."

In the end, the only thing left in the air was the bright smile that Prince Raven gave to the apothecary.

"Especially when Primarch Conrad also expressed interest in you."

"..."

Talos blinked innocently.

"Primarch...have you heard of me?"

The crow prince's laughter was sharp and piercing.

"Who do you think asked us to mention in front of you that someone needs to visit Avalon?"

"Don't worry, Talos."

Sevita held his forehead.

"If necessary, I will bring the entire Nightbat Council and the Nightfall to support you."

"..."

"Speaking of which, I have another question."

Talos's eyebrow twitched.

Why didn't the Primarch take the Nightfall with him on this expedition, but instead took the Dawn?

Upon hearing this, the room fell silent for the second time.

"good question."

Severta, the only one among everyone present who knew the answer, slowly clapped his hands in encouragement.

"But I won't tell you the answer."

------

"The reason is simple, my Sevita."

The midnight ghost leaned against a pillar, his long, slender hands crossed over his chest.

"Because the Dawn can be sacrificed."

"The Nightfall cannot be sacrificed, at least not so recklessly."

"What do you mean by sacrifice, sir?"

This word made Sevita's brow twitch.

"literal meaning."

The Midnight Ghost's radiant smile set off alarm bells in the Crow Prince's heart.

That's the smile.

The last time he laughed like that was when he gave away all the adamantite produced by Nostramore over three years to the Dark Angels Legion.

"It doesn't matter if the Dawn sinks in battle, but if the Nightfall sinks too early, there will be a lot of trouble."

"Can't we just construct a hypothesis that neither of them sank in the battle, Primarch?"

"Look what you said!"

The disdainful gaze of the midnight ghost is always the best way to provoke the crow prince.

"Warships are built to be sunk, just like legions are built to be wiped out."

"All this effort was put into these things, only to be squandered at the most crucial moment."

"Otherwise, do you plan to let the Nightfall live peacefully for thousands of years and then use it as a memorial to a great expedition on Nostramore, or do you plan to use it as a target ship in a random weapons test?"

"..."

The crow prince fell silent.

After all, the Primarch's logic is indeed impeccable: at least in the Legion culture of the Midnight Lords, there is nothing in the galaxy that cannot be sacrificed, and an important branch derived from the culture of fear is the bloody will to do anything to achieve final victory.

This naturally includes sacrificing oneself.

Destroying the enemy with fear is, in another sense, destroying one's own dignity as a human being.

Such a simple truth was already understood by the earliest Eighth Legion on the land of Holy Terra.

The Nostramas, however, grasped the concept much faster.

"so."

As Sevita took another deep breath, he had already sorted out the thoughts of his genetic father.

"You led your army on this expedition to the Ghoul Stars with the preparation that you would suffer heavy casualties."

"That's certainly the idea."

Conrad nodded.

"But don't worry: I didn't intend for the entire army to be wiped out."

"Do you know why I specifically chose those with a higher survival rate on the battlefield to join the expeditionary force?"

"Let me think about it..."

Sevita thought for a moment.

As an Astartes warrior, Prince Raven's intelligence and thinking ability are among the best in the entire galaxy. Even if he were placed in a legion like the Dark Angels or the Thousand Sons, which are known for their internal strife and complex minds, Sevita could live a smooth and stress-free life.

Of course, compared to his scornful violence, the Raven Prince's wisdom always seems less conspicuous, which is related to his simple and direct philosophy of survival: the lower levels of Nostramore's hive are never a place where you have enough time to think more about things; throwing punches is far more effective than using your brain.

Once he became an Astartes warrior, and soon rose to become the de facto number two in the entire Night Lords Legion, aside from needing to take care of Conrad, who was the number three, Sevita didn't really have much to think about.

Commanding a legion?

You can just go with your gut feeling for these things.

Governing territory?

Avalon has sent so many experienced bureaucrats, it's a waste not to use them.

After all, they all traded their sovereignty for it.

Take care of the original body?

This was indeed a problem in the past.

But when the Raven Prince discovered that he could report to the Lord of Avalon at any time, this was no longer a problem.

In general, since Conrad had the ability and will to wipe out all the remnants of the Eighth Legion and Nostramamo, thus ensuring the development and future of the Midnight Lords, Sevita was destined to have no heavy burden on his shoulders: compared to watching his father and brothers willingly degenerate, a few documents were really insignificant.

Of course, the occasional erratic behavior of the Midnight Ghost is not included.

Especially when his seemingly unrestrained behavior hides a chillingly profound meaning.

For example: now.

"You only took away soldiers with strong survival skills, and you were prepared to lose the Dawn."

Sevita took a deep breath.

"In other words, you foresaw that an unexpected event would occur during this expedition to the Ghoul Stars, and that this unexpected event would be so significant that it would sever your effective communication with the entire expedition fleet and cause substantial damage to the entire expedition fleet. That is why you only took away those warriors with strong battlefield survivability."

"Even without your command, they can still fight their way back from the ghoul constellation?"

"As expected of Sevita."

Conrad clapped his hands with a sinister grin.

"However, your guess is not entirely correct."

"At least, I don't expect my expeditionary force to be able to fight its way out of the Ghoul Stars."

"We will appear elsewhere."

"For example?"

The crow prince tentatively asked a question.

"For example, this."

Conrad shoved a thick file book into Sevita's arms.

“Read it carefully, and then you’ll know what Morgan and I are going to be busy with.”

"..."

Prince Raven silently accepted the document and then began flipping through it at an astonishing speed.

During this period, he constantly encountered new words he had never heard of before and gradually came to understand their meanings.

After Severa had roughly reviewed the Lord of Man's Web Path plan, Conrad, who had been observing from the sidelines, finally spoke up to offer a reminder.

"By the way, Sevita."

"What is it, my lord?"

"Do you know a little guy named Talos in Macalion's 10th Company?"

"Of course, my lord."

"The head of the Zalost Think Tank even mentioned to me his powerful, almost uncontrollable, predictive abilities."

“I want you to keep a close eye on him, Sevita.”

"Then?"

"Then send him to Avalon."

“Remember, my Prince of Crows.”

"You must trust Talos's judgment."

Sevita paused for a moment, and the file in his hand had already been turned to page 30, which meant that he had seen some important information.

"When should I believe him, sir?"