How can a retired savior be considered retired if his price drops to 40,000?

Chapter 405: After all the glitz and glamour, he returned to be the only foreman in the rebel faction responsible for fighting

As Guilliman gave the order, the largest holographic projection in the war room flickered. The panoramic map of Macragge, which originally floated in the air and included the orbital part, disappeared, and was replaced by a specific and dim scene.

Because of the image distortion caused by signal transmission, at the beginning, even the Primarch present could not see what kind of scene the video from the enemy showed. Normally, in naval battles, similar communications would occur on the communication platform of the command bridge, but no one could see the specific structure of the "command bridge" from the video in front of them. The dim and difficult to distinguish picture only showed some mechanical equipment made of simple steel and pipelines.

The picture trembled for a moment, and then became clearer as the band was adjusted. The further increased contrast also sharpened the boundaries of all objects in the picture, making the boundaries between steel and steel, and pipelines and pipelines clearer. Then, everyone present began to realize that what was shown in the picture was not a "mechanical device", but a huge, sophisticated and complex power armor.

This huge humanoid armor almost occupies the entire video screen, making the visual information lack sufficient reference. But whether it is really related to it, the viewer still firmly believes that this evil war machine is "very huge". The machine in the video screen has clear edges and corners, and it does not look very sharp, but it still gives people an indescribable sense of oppression. The surface of its metal shell is engraved with prayers whose true meaning is difficult to discern, and the structures that look like gates and seams everywhere suggest that its bloated size hides a lot of launchers or weapons that are waiting to be fired.

"Perturabo..."

Guilliman murmured this subconsciously, and it was unclear whether he was angry or in pain because of this unexpected brotherly meeting.

Ten thousand years was too long, so long that even the Primarchs who had left the real world inevitably changed under the ravages of time. It was indeed Perturabo, but he was still wrapped in heavy armor all the time, with only a little skin on his head that was not blocked by steel or data cables. However, Guilliman was very sure that ten thousand years ago, the little face he had left was not as pale and withered as it is now. Under the transformation and cover of inorganic matter, it almost shone with a metallic luster, making it difficult to distinguish the boundary between him and the armor. If it weren't for the fiery will still burning in his eyes, Guilliman would almost think that life had completely left Perturabo.

However, other than that, he didn't seem to be infected by Chaos - only that he didn't see any mutated limbs, extra eyes, or obviously abnormal mental state. But maybe, the pipes in his power armor that beat slowly with a rhythm like breathing, and the power structure that faintly emitted an evil light in the dim video were also a kind of Chaos pollution? It's just not as common and clear as the pollution of the Four Gods? Guilliman couldn't be sure.

Next to him, within reach, was a heavy hammer. It was the "Forgebreaker" that the original Fulgrim had forged during a contest and given to his opponent, Ferrus Manus, at the end. Since then, this heavy hammer has accompanied the Primarch of the Iron Hands throughout his entire life, and after his death, it still lingers in the depths of his soul. When he returned to the physical universe as a spirit, the Forgebreaker naturally became one of the treasures that Ferrus could easily use - and in reality, this finely crafted power hammer went around after Ferrus' death and eventually fell into Perturabo's hands. The passage of time has not left much trace on Fulgrim's meticulous craftsmanship, at least under the dim light of this video, the power hidden in the exquisite and luxurious appearance of the Forgebreaker seems to be the same as before.

At least, it was currently being used by a Primarch. The Forgebreaker had not fallen into the hands of any Chaos wizards or demons, and this was the only excuse that the people present could use to persuade themselves.

"Can this message be blocked from the outside world?" Guilliman asked, realizing that something was wrong, but was immediately answered in the negative. There was a huge amount of junk code in the communication system that interfered with the transmission of information and the delivery of instructions, and what they could do was very limited - meaning almost nothing. This made the Imperial Regent realize that he could only watch Perturabo begin his speech, and he felt a wave of uncontrollable anxiety.

No Primarch would be able to understand what means are needed to make the opinions he wants to express deeply imprinted in the minds of others. Therefore, the short silence that occurred after the communication was connected was naturally a deliberate design by Perturabo. After leaving enough time for most people to feel awe and fear because of the visual signal he showed, he finally spoke in a low voice like a mechanical roar:
"I am Perturabo, Primarch of the Iron Warriors."

After speaking this low Gothic language with a slight accent from ten thousand years ago, Perturabo paused for about ten seconds so that all the civilians, soldiers and Astartes on Macragge could digest the information contained in this short sentence. In fact, even in the war room of Hera Fortress, the well-trained communicators did fall into a commotion when Guilliman couldn't help but call out his brother's name when facing the communication, not to mention those who suddenly received such explosive information in the outside world. In this day and age, the names and even the existence of the rebellious primarchs have indeed been deliberately buried in the long river of history by the Empire, but the words "Iron Warriors Legion" and "Primarch" put together are enough to make any mortal on Macragge - Guilliman is very close to them, and they certainly know what a Primarch represents - fall into a brief panic and despair.

However, as a mortal who also knew what a Primarch represented, Fujimaru Ritsuka had no similar emotional reaction. She was just surprised when she first recognized him, "Huh?", and then quickly accepted the reality. When Perturabo finished his first sentence and left time for his audience to react, she took the opportunity to whisper to Sigismund: "I think he is much more open. In the past, he either refused to introduce himself or would talk a lot. Anyway, in this matter, he can't decide to end it with just one sentence."

She whispered this almost right next to Sigismund, but even though she was far away and the room was noisy, the Primarch could not hide it from his ears. Pegasus, who was closest to her, glanced at her from top to bottom, but before he could comment on it, Perturabo on the other side of the video chat had already spoken and continued.

"I don't know if you understand what kind of situation you are in now, but I think you don't understand." This is a video message targeted at all parts of the world, so the target of Perturabo's "speech" is of course everyone on Macragge. "Because it was me who ordered the attack on you so unexpectedly; it was me who paralyzed most of your defenses with artillery fire before you were prepared; it was me who hacked into all your communication platforms with waste code, hindering your information exchange. All the battle groups on Macragge have become blind and deaf, and can only make judgments based on the situation in front of them, fighting on their own, and were eventually defeated by me one by one.

"Your fleet has been shredded by me. The ships that cannot leave the port will soon become a pile of scrap metal in flames and explosions. The location of your orbital air defense base has been leaked by the waste code. I only need three bombings to completely paralyze it. Your reserves of personnel and equipment may be large, but I have also brought many war machines, enough to submerge the entire surface of Macragge under a torrent of steel. Your defeat is a foregone conclusion. I hereby grant you the right to surrender - this is not because I have any mercy on you, but because I still want a Macragge that can be put back into use without much renovation."

"Dream on!" Guilliman, the ruler of Macragge, couldn't bear to hear this and roared with veins bulging.

However, after a brief pause, Perturabo on the other side of the video chat chuckled as if he had heard the roar.

"Of course, I know you can't surrender. My most homesick brother will not hand over his base to others. He will certainly use various means and sweet words to coax you to continue to unite under his command. Besides, isn't Rogal Dorn here too? His stone head is only filled with the idea of ​​'fighting to the last soldier for honor', and he doesn't care about the lives of the civilians and soldiers under his command. The two primarchs cannot save you from the disadvantage in the battle. Even if you are lucky enough to keep your lives after this battle, what will you have left?"

"This is a completely false accusation," Dorn said calmly. "It is obvious that Perturabo is just bluffing with these lies in order to undermine the morale of the defenders."

"I don't care what you think now." Perturabo on the other side of the video seemed to have heard what Dorn said. "I said all this, but I don't expect the dull ants to immediately see the situation in front of them, instead of holding on to some unrealistic hope and running all the way to the edge of the cliff. I just gave the option of 'you can surrender', and guaranteed that it will be valid for the next fifteen standard days. I hope that as the intensity of this war continues to increase, some of you will be smart enough to figure out how meaningless it is to resist stubbornly. In two hours, I will directly launch an attack on the Hera Fortress on the surface of Macragge. This is a formal notice. I hope that after this attack, some knowledgeable people will begin to recognize the reality. That's it." As Perturabo's voice fell, the video was unilaterally cut off, and the war zone overview projection lit up again at its original position. The war room fell into a terrible silence for a short time.

"So." In front of everyone, Fujimaru Ritsuka broke the nearly stagnant air with a nonsense remark, "He knows that Lord Dorne is here."

"Yes," Pegasus replied, "the question is, how did he know that?"

"It's not important - at least not now!" Guilliman now looked like a pressure cooker that hadn't been deflated for so long that it might explode at any moment, but he was clearly able to prioritize. "Communications team and Mechanic Priests, I ask you to quickly resolve the issue of waste code occupying the frequency band, and continue to send messages to the Glory of Macragge in orbit, and be sure to restore global communications as soon as possible. In addition, activate the wired solid-state transmission spare parts between Hera Fortress and the main cities of Macragge, and just broadcast the voice. I must give a speech to the entire territory immediately. Mobilize the Servo Skulls to record and videotape my speech, and once the communication frequency band is restored, it will be broadcast in rotation without the need to pass on military orders. The Logistics Court should also prepare immediately to compile a text version of this speech, print it on leaflets, and use transport aircraft to drop it to various bases in Macragge. All relevant personnel, begin to execute orders."

Following this series of instructions, at least all the mortals in the war room immediately found their backbone. Those who had been assigned tasks immediately began to get busy, and those who were still doing routine work seemed to be relieved, because "even so, the Imperial Regent still has some countermeasures for the current situation" restored a little confidence. But for the Astartes - they would not be easily affected by simple words, even if the words were said by another rebellious Primarch, their strong minds were enough to make them completely ignore these true and false bluffs. The only thing that can convince them is reality. Unfortunately, in reality, Guilliman has only made some efforts to try to save morale for the time being. For other aspects, even the Primarch seems to have no immediate way to break the deadlock. This will not really affect the morale of the Astartes, but it will make them feel uneasy.

As the war room became busy again, Pegasus lowered his body slightly and moved closer to Fujimaru Ritsuka: "You seem to be familiar with Perturabo as well."

"Not really." Fujimaru Ritsuka replied, "My impression of him, both from the source and the conclusion, is quite subtle. I don't think it can be used as a reference in practice."

"On that one point, I am almost the same," Pegasus replied. His impression of Perturabo was inherited entirely from Fulgrim's memories, which included some information that was obviously enough to make them break off their relationship. But even these unreliable impressions were much better than having no guesses at all.

"What do you think he wants to do?" Pegasus continued. "It's just a guess between you and me. It won't affect anything. I don't think he is really interested in Macragge."

"Great minds think alike." Fujimaru Ritsuka nodded, but seemed hesitant to "continue to explain his point of view". "Perturabo's mind is always difficult to guess. No one can say for sure why he suddenly came here to do this. At present, the only explanation that makes sense is that he knew that Lord Dorn was also here, so he ran over to entangle the other party and wanted to decide the outcome, but..."

"'But' what?" Pegasus demanded.

"I have no evidence. Just think of it as some kind of metaphysics, something I'm just talking about." Fujimaru Ritsuka said hesitantly, "But I always feel that the state he looks in the video is similar to when I played regicide chess with Mr. Ferrus - it's not that he doesn't want to win, but he also thinks it's normal to lose, and he just wants to enjoy the process. Not to mention how someone would start a war with this mentality, at least he knows that Lord Dorn is in the Hera Fortress..."

Pegasus did not continue to speak, but just nodded. He knew exactly what the second half of Fujimaru Ritsuka's unspoken comment meant:
This is too open-minded and un-Perturabo.
-
Iron Blood, command bridge, sound array communication device. Perturabo turned off the broadcast system and sighed, turned his eyes away from the camera, and looked around again.

Teams of iron hoop robots replaced the Terminator Guards, surrounding the Demon Primarch and forming a defense around him. This complete replacement had already happened a long time ago, so much so that for the current Iron Warriors, it was more normal for their Gene Father to not allow them to get close. Perhaps the warriors left over from the Great Crusade era would be touched when they saw this scene, but unfortunately, after ten thousand years, there are fewer and fewer such people, and even the command level has gradually withered and had to be replaced by the "new generation" members of the legion.

He looked towards a certain fixed position in the bridge. Whenever he went out to war, one of his descendants would stand there. Dantioch had stood there before, and then Folics, Gorg, Barban Falck, Hark, Krog*… Ten thousand years had passed in the real universe, and most of them had died, or ascended to become demons and left. The one standing there now was Honso.

Strictly speaking, Honso was also one of Fabius Bile's so-called "works". He was not completely promoted from a mortal by the gene seed of the Iron Warriors. His flesh and blood also contained half of Rogal Dorn's genetic factors. This naturally caused him to suffer severe discrimination among the Iron Warriors. The nickname of "bastard" was even more annoying among Perturabo's descendants than those "consumables" who completely inherited the genes of the Imperial Fists. But Honso survived such an environment and even fought his way out. Obviously, he had proved himself, so the magnanimous Perturabo was willing to ignore this "small" flaw.

But he raised his head, not to talk to his half-blood son. In fact, his action was not for anything, just to wait for another voice, and this "other voice" did not disappoint his waiting. Just a few seconds later, a voice with a slightly higher pitch than Perturabo's current voice, but still full of majesty, sounded:
"Are you done with your show-off?"

There was a clear hint of sarcasm in the voice, but surprisingly, Perturabo was not annoyed at all. He simply turned his gaze towards the direction of the voice and confirmed the speaker's appearance again:

There stood the one-eyed scarlet monarch, Magnus of Prospero.

(End of this chapter)