Warhammer: Start with a dog.

Chapter 462: It seems that there is no way to get it back, so why not launch a missile? (4K4)
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Here Thortarn vor Bron had stood many times beside, before, or at the throne of the predecessors and past lords of Caran-Gol.

Although his reputation was not as prominent as that of other lords, the Crimson Fist Kayama of the previous traitor raiding team knew this Stonecaller of the Fourth Legion. Being able to live on Medlengard for so many years, Soltarn was definitely not an incompetent person. Therefore, although the news that he came alone surprised Tolamino, it was not too unusual. He was just a little annoyed that he could not take the opportunity to kill one or two of Soltarn's servants to establish his authority.

What the Stonecaller said to Tolamino was no lie or bravado: though there is an eternal struggle on Medrungard and they have exiled others over the years, some more thoughtful Iron Warriors have sought to "rise" and leave to form their own warbands - such as the fortress's previous master, the "Warsmith" who devoured the Imperial Fist on the Heart of the Hydra and rose to Daemon Prince, once one of the Tridents named Barban Falk.

The two Iron Warrior Lords who now attack and defend Kalan-Gol had served the Legion and their fathers ten thousand years ago.

As for their resumes, the former was once an adjutant of the 45th Great Company, but was deeply loved by the Primarch for his talent in getting along with rocks. He had served as the Primarch's consultant on engineering technology for wall demolition and siege warfare for a long time, and commanded the battle against the Ultramarines when he was away looking for Angron; while the latter began to lead the Iron Warriors' famous "Siegebreakers" force before the Heresy. This force originated in Olympia and was famous for its powerful, advanced and unique siege terminators, heavy vehicles and weapons.

If there is anything the two sides have in common for a long time, it is that they are both stuck just outside the three names of the Trident, always close but never becoming the Trident.

However, the reasons why both parties did not enter the Trident were exactly opposite, and both knew it well: Soltarn was simply not interested in the intrigues and power struggles among the remaining two seats in the Trident to gain that position, while Tolamino was just the opposite. He dreamed of becoming a Trident and could even order friendly forces to be fired upon.

In view of this, it is easy to understand why Tolamino wanted to give a warning to this old colleague who made him look quite embarrassed throughout the whole process even though there was no direct conflict between them.

The intimidating lock of the demon titan's weapon on him was only the first step.

Tolamino thought proudly as he sat on his silver throne, which had been polished by his slaves until it shone brightly and had its design changed overnight to be inlaid with his favorite gold and onyx.

Then he arranged a full set of humiliation packages for this little lieutenant who dared to attack him. He imagined stripping Soltarn's soul from his body, and then letting him watch his ridiculous and lowly body being made into a culture medium for an amniotic membrane farm by barbaric undertakers in a cage that imprisoned his soul - no, no, this is still too easy for him! Perhaps, this guy's talent for rocks can be used, and it would be a good idea to make him into a living shield, isn't it?

Tolamino licked his lips excitedly for the picture he imagined, and the feeling of extreme desire made him grab a soul stone from the golden bowl held by the kneeling slave beside him, and drink the sweet pain in it in big gulps. This made his emotions return to the line of reason, and he waited confidently for the minute before the final climax.

Ah, it was a tough minute, but it was worth it for the most magnificent climax of the piece, and Tolamino could wait.

Look! Father! In this competition of ten thousand years, I am the only one who has the last laugh!
Only me! The greatest warsmith - Tolamino!
stand out!

Except for Barban who ascended to the demon realm, Kroger who had hatefully taken away the trident seat that should have belonged to him, Berossus who was always too impulsive, and even old Felix who was dejected and finally died a death that was neither glorious nor worthy of a warrior, ha! Now! They! All of them are dead! Dead! All the annoying obstacles have been cleared away by the wise god of death!

There is no one in this legion, on this planet, in this galaxy who loves my father more than I do! Oh! I am even willing to die for him! As long as he gives the order, every drop of blood and steel in my body will be his! Our father, the most powerful tyrant of Olympia! Why, why have you never set your eyes on me? !

Ah, such a powerful, handsome, and majestic father... No one is more qualified than me to stand beside the Primarch and serve him! Felix is ​​from Terra, so it makes sense not to compete with him, but is it allowed for a country bumpkin like Soltarn, whose voice is so broken, to stand in my father's command room? ! It's outrageous! If this lucky country bumpkin hadn't been chosen to join the Legion, he wouldn't even be able to touch the wall of the city-state of Rokos once a year on Olympia!

Wait, when he comes in, after I have humiliated him enough, I will ignite the magic circle on the ground and sacrifice this vulgar bitch to my lovely advisors! They told me that they have long wanted to suck his rich psyker soul!

Ha! Only I, the greatest Tolamino, will be the final winner! In the end! Father can only choose me! Choose me to be the head of his trident!
The terrifying obsession of "I must become the Trident of the Primarch" that had lasted for ten thousand years turned into a fanatical and determined look radiating from the golden irises on the wizard lord's milky white eyeballs, and for a moment even obscured the traces of conspiracy, pain and resentment deeply engraved on his face.

Outside the door of the throne room came the sound of iron boots in power armor walking on the rock and iron ground, and the sound of Tolamino's personal guards who were deliberately arranged outside the door drawing their weapons and clashing swords in unison - this is a very ancient "welcome ceremony" for the belligerents, making the opponent walk through a corridor formed by deadly weapons above his head, designed to make the opponent bow his head and be intimidated, and power and chainsaw axes can take the level of intimidation to a higher level.

Although the principle was simple, this form of welcome for his old rival, whom he despised, was very much to Tolamino's liking.

The door of the inner hall was pushed open - this was also a special order from the wizard lord, not to arrange slaves or servants to open the door for Soltan, but to let this guy who was only fit to smash stones under the city wall push the door open by himself, so that Tolamino could loudly ridicule the other party when he thought he was an old rival.

Like now.

"Ha! Look who's here, Thortarn. That little shack of self-pity you and Felix built finally collapsed so you come to me and beg for mercy - what is that?! How dare you?!"

Tolamino's voice, which was triumphant and deliberately carried the accent of an ancient Olympian noble, suddenly rose sharply, like a steep cliff that suddenly rose from the flat ground outside the city of Rochos and reached the sky.

"What is that?! You bitch!!!! What are those things you are wearing?! What is that around your neck?! Why do you have those?!!!!!! How dare you?!!!!"

The Iron Warrior Wizard Lord lost all his graceful demeanor and jumped up from the magnificent new throne he was so proud of, trembling all over, and pointed excitedly at the Stonecaller who strolled into the hall leisurely.

Thortarn, obviously, was in stark contrast to his ten thousand years of habit. This visitor had clearly dressed up for their meeting. His silver armor was as shiny as Tolamino's Olympian limited edition power armor, his black shoulder armor was as black and shiny as onyx, and the golden ribbons, tassels, and various honorary insignias and medals marking his past achievements were proudly displayed on his breastplate. A black cape with a silver-white skull mask was draped over his shoulder armor. The respirator mask was removed, revealing a face that had been restored by delicate bioengineering surgery and mechanical implants. It was the face of the officer of the 45th Company that Tolamino remembered ten thousand years ago.

Thortann watched him quietly.

Most importantly, a chill gradually rose in Tolamino's heart - he immediately thought of some clues: the palace where the Primarch lived in seclusion had not been moved for a long time, and the Iron Blood was seen earlier leaving the orbit of Medlengard in a hurry, taking away Honso and a few Iron Warrior Lords, which was why he took advantage of the opportunity to enter and seize the Kalan-Gol Fortress...

"I come from the Primarch's court. I receive the Primarch's will." Thortarn said at this time, his voice was like a bell, "I will repair you for our reborn father, Tolamino, if you are so tainted by darkness, you will not have to embarrass your father again. Medlengard is not our home. The Void Fleet of the Fourth Legion will once again set sail for the Primarch with pride, eagerness and hope, just like ten thousand years ago. And those who are tainted do not deserve the love of their father."

I have lost my father's love! I have lost the Medlengard where my father was! What's the point of becoming the master of this fortress! ! ! !

A legion without the Primarch... what are we without the Primarch's love... what on earth was I worrying so hard about before...

Psychic energy on the verge of overload gushed out from the gaps in Tolamino's power armor. His white hair was blown away by the strong wind formed by the energy vortex. A mocking and joyful laughter came from the sky. A line of blue blood mixed with purple flowed from his cracked eye sockets.

What puzzled the other Iron Warriors present was that Tolamino lost his composure just because he saw the other party's "very Imperial" attire and the speech that made them feel extremely uneasy.

"I don't believe it! This is impossible! Primarch! How could the Primarch! This is impossible! The Primarch couldn't have made it for you personally...! Even the mark on Berossus's Dreadnought is not so... Ahhhhhhhhh! I don't believe it!!! Father! Father!!! Father! Tell me you didn't abandon us! Leave us on this damn planet to feed the demons! Ah!!!!"

Soltan smiled as he watched Tolamino screaming and pulling his hair, his psychic energy dissipating and looking like a madman.

The Stonecaller knew exactly why Tolamino lost his composure when he saw him, because this was exactly the effect he wanted after dressing up so carefully.

Obviously, Soltan was very familiar with Tolamino, and the latter's wizard warp vision really saw the mark aura that others could not see at first glance: this set of power armor exuded traces of Perturabo's psychic forging all over, showing that their beloved father was really full of love for his offspring when he made it (?).

Before setting off, Soltan prayed sincerely with the manuscript he had written and the small pendant his father had asked their psychic advisor, Master Maatra, to bring to each of them (yes, there was only a pendant and no rosary, so Soltan did not lie to Seraface, he only had a small pendant!), asking for his father's blessing to fall upon him - in this regard, Tolamino's psychic level and his respect for the Primarch were indeed very high, but he really didn't brag too much about these two points, did he?
Very good, this shows that, first of all, his prayers to the fathers outside the Eye of Fear in the dark really worked, so... the fathers are safe, and their strength is definitely not diminished... it is very likely to have increased, which is really good news! It made him feel a little relieved and his confidence doubled; secondly, the manuscript he wrote was proven to be a medium for prayer; finally... well... he originally thought that Tolamino, this cunning, boastful, vain, self-righteous and extremely jealous guy, was already hopeless, and his soul was probably devoured by the great demons of the alien god they had seen in that dead world.

In Soltarn's original plan, this guy was blasted into a wisp of smoke in the magma by the missile cluster, along with his superficial face. This was a waste of missiles in order to quickly end the battle and save manpower that would be very valuable later. But now it seems that, in the words of the kind and gourmet father, perhaps "garbage placed in the wrong place can also be turned into treasure..."

"…So, Tolamino, do you also want to be as powerful as me? Do you also want to receive the Primarch's grace? Do you want to know how to be allowed to see your father again and accompany him on his new expedition that will shake up the galaxy?"

Soltan's originally ordinary voice seemed like the whisper of the Great Keeper of Secrets coming from a distant palace, and it reached the ears of Tolamino who was about to use his psychic spell and order his guards to fight the enemy.

The white-haired Iron Warrior Wizard Lord froze.

The muscles on that face full of ancient Olympian aristocratic charm were twisted, a devil-like gaze was burning in the golden irises, and two lines of blood and tears flowed down his cheeks.

"You..." "A world-shaking expedition? Really?!"

When a second impatient voice suddenly sounded from the crowd beside the throne, Soltarn narrowed his eyes thoughtfully, and Tolamino raised the staff in his hand in anger.

"Who gave you permission to speak when your master is speaking?!"

Kadaras Grendel, who until recently had been the chief of staff of the Berossus warband, now had a face covered with old scars, filled with savage passion and yearning.

"You are not my master, Tolamino. Who doesn't know who? Expedition, battle and blood." He licked his lips eagerly, "Is father finally going to dye this galaxy red with blood?" He laughed wildly, "Soltarn! Please let me join! I've been waiting for a long time!"

The Stonecaller couldn't help but fall into deep thought as he looked at his former colleagues in front of him, one emitting overflowing red aura and the other emitting faint blue-purple aura, who were at loggerheads with each other.

To make such a fellow return to the glory of the noble Primarch...

...Or should we notify the command center to launch the death strike missile swarm?
(End of this chapter)