Warhammer: I don't want to be a stinky can! ! !

Chapter 288. 279. Night, Wolves, and Death
It was obvious that they both ignored Horus who was shining outwards, even though Horus is usually the focus of everyone without accident, only the angel Sanguinius can compete with him.

But only people with the same aura will attract each other. Among the bright and brilliant brothers, it seems that neither of them expected the existence of the other side.

In Horus's private Primarch meeting room, half-old moon wolf flags and double-headed eagle flags hung down together, light golden carpets covered the floor, and woven single sofas were placed in the room in a casual gesture inside, but they all face the projection equipment in this small room.

Horus turned on the projection equipment, and their target galaxy this time immediately appeared in front of everyone. Horus took a light breath, and then he turned around with a smile——

Mortarion sat silent on one of the couches, maintaining the necessary silence, like a statue.

The Lord of Death's armor is pale and dull bone white, with some shallow traces clearly visible on it, and his armor is also empty, without any extra decorations——

For some Primarchs, this is unbearable, but Mortarion is indifferent to these imperfections, and his deep-set eye sockets are hidden in the darkness of the hood, and it will never be guessed that he is in the dark. what to think.

Under Mortarion's mask, there was a breathing sound like a dying person, which made people feel that he was suffering some kind of cruel torture all the time. Horus guessed that it was caused by the poisonous gas in Mortarion's mask. Yes, but he really couldn't understand Mortarion's masochistic behavior.

Coz, on the other hand, sat on the sofa in an awkward and disturbing posture, as if the sofa was made of nails and thorns.

But Horus was sure that the sofas in this room were made of the most comfortable material, and even a naked baby would immediately fall asleep on these soft sofas.

The Lord of the Night is wrapped in midnight-like icy iron armor. At the end of the armor, at the position of those fingers, the sharp blades are shining with ruthless light. Countless skulls are pierced on Curze's armor with iron remonstrance, and they are suffering hollowly. looked at Horus.

Some traces of dried slime crowded Curze's long hair, messing up the primarch's black hair, and Horus could even see some unidentified lumps in it.

But compared to Mortarion who hid himself completely, Curze showed his whole face. His skin was horribly icy white, his entire face was bloodless, and his lips were blue, mixed with dried blood. dark brown.

Horus looked at his two younger brothers, which gave him a strange feeling. At this moment, two people who were usually incompatible in the Primarch actually had a symmetrical similarity. To use a rather inappropriate analogy, Mo Tarion and Conrad Koze, which reminded him of Guilliman and Dorne.

In short, the two primarchs are very similar to corpses, the difference is that one is a tuberculosis corpse that has been buried in the loess for many years, and the other is a bloody corpse that has been refrigerated in an ice cellar for many years.

Well, Horus said to himself in his heart, what he had to admit was that even Horus felt a little tricky.

Although the degree of difficulty has not yet reached the level of that banquet, this makes Horus feel very relieved.

Horus tried to keep his tone as relaxed as possible. He looked at the two brothers who obviously didn't intend to speak first,

"Before we start, we can get to know each other and get acquainted with each other so that we can better cooperate in combat after this."

Prior to this, the Luna Wolves had worked individually with these two legions, so it was clear that Horus was referring to Mortarion and Curze getting to know each other.

The Night Lord raised his eyes, which were hidden in tangled hair, completely black, and gave Horus a melancholy look.

He saw a shattered puppet, surrounded by uncertain flames, howling and tearing the sun apart.

He is no longer Horus.

Brothers turned against each other, siblings turned each other. He spoke,
"Conrad Curze, the Night Lord."

A soft hoarse voice sounded, which made other people's eyes focus on Curz.

"Mortarion, Death Guard, Lord of Barbarus."

Curze cast a glance in Mortarion's direction.
He saw the garden, the high walls climbed by vines and maggots, the knees forced to kneel, and the pursuit of misery ended in tragedy.

Another involuntary person.

Grief and brokenness overtook him again, nightmares like shadows mottled on the wall in the middle of the night, justice and redemption but dreams in his head, screaming to tear him apart.

"Conrad?"

Horus' voice woke him up, and Curze shook his head roughly, signaling Horus to continue his introduction to the target.

This is a fairly prosperous pocket kingdom with certain galaxy defense capabilities, but the main population of the entire country is still gathered on its main star, and its technology and military are highly developed.

Facing such a human civilization, the empire repeatedly sent its peace talks ships, but this human civilization resolutely refused to surrender and imprisoned the empire's peacemakers
Curze listened casually to the tirade of Horus, his incorrigible brother who still believed there was hope in this civilization with which Horus hoped to negotiate.

Horus insisted on negotiating a peace. He advocated laying down the extraterrestrial defenses of this civilization first, and then tried Chen Bing to make them submit.

He published a lot of speeches about [Why this civilization is hopeful], clichéd, nothing new, Koz was sleepy, he felt bored, he began to recall the screams of those skinned people, but unfortunately, in In the boring conference room of Horus, those shrill begging for mercy also became dull.

Horus, Guilliman, the high-sounding fellows of Dorne, they don't understand that kindness and forgiveness can only lead to corruption, and only merciless judgment can bring order and justice.

Fear breeds justice, pain breeds fear.

Curze could already imagine Horus' reprimand and disappointment to him in the ensuing battle when the Night Lords used the Dreadblade to subdue the enemy.

Formal guys. Why don't they face up to the fact that a small amount of blood is exchanged for a large number of sacrifices?Could it be that letting their heirs sacrifice in large numbers is what they want to see?
They just don't want to face the crimes like Curz, they don't want to admit the war crimes they committed.

"...If they don't accept our peace request in the first stage, then the legion can land in the east of the third continent, where their traffic artery exists, cut it off, and continue to put pressure on them, they won't last long , up to three standard Tara months—”

"No," Nuoxing's ghost spit out his words softly, "up to three standard Terra weeks."

Horus froze,

"The enemy still has access to the south, they won't be so fast."

The voice of the wolf god gradually became quieter, and he seemed to know what Conrad wanted to say.

"Leave the densely populated traffic city on this main road to the Night Lords. Don't block their communications with radio waves. They need witnesses."

Curz spit out his words softly,

Horus looked at Konrad Koz seriously, and the wolf god frowned,

"Conrad, let's not talk about other things. How can you be sure that the people here will submit? Instead of igniting a deeper hostility and fighting spirit against the empire."

Mortarion, who had never fought with the Night Lords, obviously didn't understand what the two were talking about, but out of his good impression of Curze, Mortarion still didn't say a word.

"Because," Curze slowly rubbed the blades of his armor against each other, he needed heart and flesh to beat between his hands, instead of sitting here dryly, saying indifferent words to Horus.

Reality will prove him right.

"According to the climate of this planet, three weeks is enough for the corpses to exude a wonderful smell. If we pile the corpses high enough, these deeply fermented smells will flow along the monsoon, spreading fear to those who have not yet fallen. city ​​of."

Curze put his hand in front of his face and took a deep breath intoxicated, as if he could already smell the smell of the carrion pile, and the cloudy pus dripped from the empty eye socket.

"They will surrender soon, before supplies run out."

Koz said casually, and Horus seemed to hear Koz's deep, chichi laughter,

"you can not--"

Mortarion raised his hand, beckoning him to speak,

"If it's just to ferment the corpse, the death guard can provide viruses to make the corpse rot faster and emit a stronger breath, which can further shorten the time."

The Lord of Death said matter-of-factly,

This time, Koz's sneering laughter directly echoed in the entire conference room, and the Lord of the Night almost laughed out loud.

"Mortarion, my brother, thank you for your kindness. Now we can conquer this civilization in two weeks."

Beneath the cloak, Mortarion's eyes gathered many folds, and Horus realized that Mortarion was smiling too.

Horus took a deep breath, raised his hand, and brought the two brothers' attention back to him,

He spoke as softly as he could,
"This is a highly developed human civilization, and there is no oppression on it," Horus quickly glanced at Mortarion,
"This civilization, they are only developing, and they have no crimes," Horus looked at Koz this time,
"They," Horus took another deep breath, "deserve more glorious war than fear and slaughter."

"Give me a chance. Their rulers are not incompetent people. After realizing the true strength of the empire, they will soon surrender instead of continuing the war."

"My brother, Horus."

Mortarion spoke, in his hoarse enough voice,

"Because their rulers are not fatuous, they will definitely fight the Empire to the last minute before being completely shattered—military or psychologically shattered."

"Only the incompetent will surrender. When encountering foreign enemies, they will first think about resisting unrealistically in order to keep their noble status."

"But after they really realized the gap between the two sides, they were the ones who surrendered the fastest, because they needed to keep their [noble] status."

Memories came to Galaspar, the management there panicked and attempted to surrender as Mortarion's army climbed to the top of the Middle Nest.

Of course, Mortarion did not accept their surrender.

"This human civilization is a country built on the personality cult of the family."

Mortarion pointed with his withered finger to the map behind Horus. Few, not even Mortarion himself, knew that the Lord of Death was surprisingly politically sensitive.

"The king is responsible to the people, and the people love their monarch. The whole country is thriving. Their culture will not allow them to surrender to a foreign enemy stained with the blood of their own country. You need to break them into pieces, until they are formed. There is no possible resistance."

"Or make them fear, so fear overwhelms any other emotion."

Curze took Mortarion's words, and the two Primarchs apparently reached a consensus on the topic of refuting Horus.

It is a pity that in front of these two legions, Horus, who has sufficient qualifications, has an absolute position. After realizing that the two primarchs are disobedient to him, and at the same time trying to conquer in a way that is displeasing to the empire and the emperor, Horus accepts It reminded him of his kind face at the beginning.

Now standing in front of them was the majestic Wolf Shepherd, and Horus' eyes were sternly and simultaneously staring at Curze and Mortarion,
"My brothers, I want you to realize,"

Horus spoke,
"The Empire sent us to this civilization for more than conquest."

"We are the liberators of civilization. What we bring is civilization, not death and oppression. The Great Crusade is a glorious liberation. We liberate mankind from evil aliens and tyrants, not bring them oppression."

This sentence is very correct, the premise is that the Shadow Moon Wolf is an Ultramarine, or some other Bling Bling Glowing Legion.

"They rebelled against the empire, they are guilty, and if they are guilty, they need to be judged."

Koz stared at Horus, his dark pupils contained no light, his canine teeth bared slightly,

"They need to realize that rebellion means death, and that their fearful death will wake up the rest so they can keep order."

Compared to the two who had already had a slight conflict, Mortarion calmed down. He remembered the reprimands from Manus and Vulcan at that time, and also remembered the brutality of Perturabo that even bombed his friendly troops.

The Lord of Death has realized that his brothers judge others by their own preferences, and that they don't even have the same definition of the Great Crusade.

Mortarion wondered what different lies the Emperor, the liar, had told his brothers.

And after going through so much, Mortarion no longer cares about these arguments that do not affect reality in the slightest. The Lord of Death's eyes are firmly fixed on the terrifying future, which is what makes him tremble.

As for how the planet was brought down, he didn't care.

Mortarion couldn't see much else from the whole thing, as long as he made sure the Death Guard didn't lose too much due to poor tactics.

Unless this planet fits the label of [psychic], or [oppressor], or [alien].

Since this planet is just a simple human civilization and does not constitute the above three elements, Mortarion remained on the sidelines.

He listened to the debate between Konrad Kotz and Horus with great interest, and the balance in his heart began to tilt towards Konrad Koz involuntarily.

　No more.

　　Coded 6k today!
　　3/14 owed
　　
　
(End of this chapter)