Warhammer: Start with a dog.

Chapter 347 A Kind Person Who Is Easily Misunderstood

Ser Kadur Malcador, whom Ramezane had just mentioned, was in his own private office, dealing with the paperwork that had begun to pile up due to his brief absence.

Of course, they have more than just one forging world, one agricultural world, one cold semi-death world and two royal franchise stores on both sides of the Maw to deal with daily matters. Even if you add the fleet logistics, transportation allocation, galaxy import and export, taxation, and population statistics monitoring reports, they will not pile up on the desk of the legendary regent in just half a day.

Apparently, as he often did in the past, Malcador had some little ideas of his own in his spare time, and he needed to recruit some agents to carry them out, and also to recover some fortresses and strongholds that had been forgotten or lost in the war and time.

After working for about six cups of tea, rearranging a few nails into the Qing Palace of Marius Harkes, Lord of Calixis (Note 1), re-evaluating several inquisitors of the Calixis Conclave who might have been turned, and sorting out the logistics and import and export situation between the world they currently controlled and the Wandering Port and the Landing Port for the next quarter, he began to look through the relevant content of the Royal Licensed Store.

Well, just as he expected, their revenue is now steadily increasing, maintaining a healthy growth curve, very good, maybe they can immediately include those special new products in the next release plan, oh, wait, did he forget something? Makado frowned slightly.

Forget it. If he can forget something, it must not be that important. I’ll just have to wait until he remembers it later.

And the other side.

Mr. Ramizane Kalosini, who was lying comfortably on the sofa and thinking seriously about what to make for supper tonight using the kitchen of the Desert Ark, received an internal communication.

He glanced at the sender: it was from Sir Kadu.

Oh, maybe the old man remembered that he had promised to tell him something about the library on the Iron Blood? He was really interested in the contents of the books inside, but if someone had already worked and sorted them out and knew roughly how to navigate the ocean of knowledge quickly and conveniently, then it would be helpful to hear his opinions first or get his work materials.

The fourth Primarch lazily opened the compressed package by moving his sight focus.

Hmm? I want to ask the inventor for his advice on something? The store needs to expand its business scope and gain greater fame and commercial confidence in a short period of time...

Oh, isn't this very simple? Since we are dealing with the Empire, we should first eliminate those who are not from the Empire and those Ironhearts who are too busy to be left alone. The rest are...

It's just a small matter. This is very common in my place. I'll just do it for him. Ramizarn thought so and started to log into Magna's main port from the personal terminal in his power armor.

"Magna? Are you there? I have a small task for you to do. Can you bring the Black Templars over?" He typed out a line of words and waited for the other party's response.

------

Magnar Dorn was being led through the corridors of the Desert Ark by his black brood, whose spirits were high, their minds full of sacrifice, and their bodies filled with endless power.

He was actually a little overwhelmed - because he just wanted to quickly reunite with the returning Ramizane, oh, and his teacher, although Perturabo had a bad temper, roared at him at every turn, and was very impatient, and would take away Magna's vocal organ or shut it down when he was unhappy - only installing it for him when he asked him to use his original voice to coax him -

But Perturabo had a truly soft heart and a hopeful heart that there were still beautiful things in the world. He would curse him viciously for his sometimes unreasonable requests while doing everything for him to perfection, such as the unparalleled golden autonomous machine he was using now; he would also silently and carefully check every mecha or system that Magna was going to log in to inch by inch and line by line in advance.

There was also the time when the demon that sneaked in was killed by Magna, and he hurriedly ran to Perturabo and was scolded and shut down for a few days. When he woke up again, the anti-subspace measures of the entire Iron Blood were re-arranged, but Perturabo refused to make any comments on his bloodshot eyes, and just upgraded Magna's security protocol again. In short, Magna's eyepiece turned into a pleasant light green. He was very sure that his teacher was just a kind and sensitive person who was easily misunderstood, and was not willing to speak out his grievances, dissatisfaction and other words! Others have not been with Perturabo for so long and so close, so they can't appreciate how good he is.

When he thought about seeing the two people he loved here, his steps became a little lighter.

The Black Templars accompanying the "Primarch" were obviously dissatisfied with the exotic style of Nuceria and Bot, which was very different from the decoration style with strong state religion connotations that they liked - but they endured it.

Because they were enlightened by the glorious divine vision, everything they encountered starting from Wandering Port would be a test of their devout faith, and suffering was the only way for them to successfully redeem themselves, which also included clear revelations. First of all, of course, they must not go against the wishes of the Father of Genes, and then they must never attack anyone or anything they see without permission, and finally they must help the Father of Genes' mentor and close friend solve problems - although in the discussions between Caleb and Geratos, this may represent the unusual Chaos Demons who actually found and desecrated their father's holy relics.

Yes, unusual.

It's not like they didn't notice that all the crew members and equipment coming and going in this place looked normal, with neither the usual Chaos corruption nor the signs of the destroyed Imperial Sky Eagle being replaced by a randomly smeared eight-pointed star. Everything was normal, except that their Holy Primarch had been transformed into an alien, used as a follower, had his voice taken away, and was made into a servitor - this was the most convincing and greatest blasphemy and abnormality!!!
Castle Lord Caleb and Pastor Geratos were originally worried about whether this unprecedented expeditionary force composed entirely of Emperor Champions could successfully accomplish the goals set by the God-Emperor - are all of them really qualified to take on such a heavy responsibility?
When they saw the Iron Ring Mechas guarding outside Perturabo and Ramizane's office again, their doubts had mostly disappeared: the Mechas began to shine faintly in their field of vision.

This light is an important feature of the change in vision after becoming the Emperor's Champion in the Chapter's records: the more important the target is to the Emperor's purpose, the brighter the light on it. It is in this way that the Emperor's Champion can find the target he needs to devote himself to from the chaotic and vast battlefield, and launch a holy revenge on it.

As the door of the office opened, their father, now as innocent as a child, could not wait to walk in first, and the Black Templar Emperor Champions were shocked by what they saw.

Behind the desk sat the strange silver-skulled Dreadnought that they had seen when they first boarded the ship. The light of the God-Emperor's guidance on it was so strong that the Atreus brothers could hardly control the urge to draw their swords.

But when they turned their eyes to the figure of the holy Dorne who walked towards him joyfully and hugged him intimately and kissed him on the cheek.

In an instant, Lord Caleb, Priest Geratos and all the Black Templars felt that they understood the significance of the honor bestowed upon them by the God-Emperor and the weight of the test they were about to face.

Although the light shining on that man was as dazzling as the sun, he appeared in the room like a burning star in the eyes of the Emperor's Champions. When they looked directly at such strong and direct evil, their eyes would even be stinging and tears would flow.

But no well-trained and deeply-inherited Black Templar would make a mistake.

It was the Armor of the Principle, the Iron Warriors Primarch's custom-made Terminator armour, and the Daemon Lord wearing it, caressing their father (?) like a pet or a servant, could only be: Perturabo.

Everything immediately made sense.

The demonic primarch Perturabo!

Holy Dorn's brother from thousands of years ago and his eternal enemy!
He is back!

(End of this chapter)