Warhammer: Start with a dog.

Chapter 640: Trial (IV)
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Dantioch listened calmly to the conversation between the Fifteenth Primarch and his most cherished offspring, who were separated by a wall.

His genetic father was leisurely drinking the hot tea that Soltan had gotten from some lounge.

It sounded like Magnus was confident that his friendly and enthusiastic speech would impress the theater audience. He believed that even if Mortarion firmly supported the Wolf's accusation against the Thousand Sons, he at least had the support of Fulgrim and Sanguinius. In addition, he had convinced most people in the theater. Although this rally seemed to be an ambush for the Thousand Sons, he felt that even the Emperor was not so reluctant to accuse his beloved son. This meeting was mainly to show those who had a guilty conscience. Therefore, he was at least superficially optimistic that he would win the verdict.

Ahriman's view was obviously much more pessimistic and direct. It was quite unusual to see that the scholar smashed the cup and exploded not long after waking up, saying "those who insulted us, those fools who are still engaging in witch hunts in this age of space travel, and those cowards who hide their faces." Dantioch was secretly surprised that the Red King did not get so angry at his offspring in front of him.

Azek Ahriman had passed out three hours ago after coming too close to Magnus and looking directly into the window of his mind - at least that's what Magnus told Ahriman when he woke up.

As for the other people in the box, especially the skinny old man closest to them, the mortal chronicler and recorder of the conversations between Magnus and his descendants and disciples, all had soft faces and empty eyes, and seemed to be calm and at ease with every situation they were in, as did the nine scarab lion guards they brought with them.

"That's not poise," the Lord of Steel told Dantioch as soon as he noticed the man.

"Poor man, he is not that old, but he has been controlled by Magnus's powerful soul for so long that his soul loss is reflected in his appearance. The nine Sekhmet Terminators have not aged, but their minds under the armor are actually controlled by Magnus as well."

After saying this, his genetic father also added a strange and ominous laugh, as if there was some kind of joke contained in these cruel words.

The earnest conversation between father and son next door continued until Ahriman suddenly seemed to realize something and asked a follow-up question.

Dantioch didn't pay attention and therefore didn't hear his question, but then Magnus was clearly angry, and the red giant's hair seemed to be on fire. He was shocked to see Magnus sternly asking Ahriman to shut up and stop asking questions, but Ahriman insisted on asking questions step by step, and even looked like -
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"Honestly, is Magnus the type to avoid answering questions from his heir and not even get angry? Father? What do you think?"

Fulgrim Pallas smiled and tickled the base of the white dove's wings with his longest and most nimble fingers among all his brothers. The pigeon was stiff all over, but its mouth was tightly closed. The black and white furry tyrant had already discovered that although his disciple's fellow student did not have bad habits, some bad tastes were inevitably retained. So he was in a good mood and asked the worried Rilano to serve new black tea and scones with custard and jam.

But the image in their minds froze when Magnus suddenly fell down due to Ahriman's questioning.

"What are you doing, old man?!"

"Puff... Hahahaha... cough cough, stop scratching! Damn it! Fulgrim! Haha... cough cough! Stop scratching! It will be over soon! This is because Magnus has pulled his soul too far. This is not what we should see! He has fallen into the other side of the Sea of ​​Souls that is too far away... cough cough, he had secretly delved into the abyss of the Sea of ​​Souls long before he came into contact with the Emperor at that time. He had spied on the evil will. He also defined the other party in his own way and thought that he did not need to care too much. He fell too deep at that time and hid too well, so that I cannot go too deep here."

Although the white-winged Emperor immediately explained, it was not until the images began to flow again that something hidden in the darkness began to slowly fade away at the instruction of Perturabo BC.
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Dantioch was surprised to see the Primarch of the Thousand Sons, whose body was taller than his own genetic father, fall to the ground with a bang. Ahriman rushed over in panic, and the Scarab Lion Guards also surrounded him after a moment of trance.

"What happened to him, sir? If we help him now, perhaps..."

"It's not time yet." The Lord of Steel seemed to be recalling something and shook his head again. "It's not time yet, Dantioch. Remember the covenant we just made. I think that ally has listened to me and will be more inclined to support Magnus than he originally said. It depends on whether Magnus can make a decision that slightly changes his fate after receiving more support. It will be soon, very soon."

During this brief conversation, the unconscious Thousand Sons Primarch slowly woke up on his own. Magnus sat up with the help of Ahriman and subconsciously reached out to touch his lost eye. He looked distracted, like a fortune teller who had just witnessed many futures, feeling a little anxious and uneasy.

"We must go, Ahriman. Time is short. We must return to Prospero immediately..."

"Sir, we can't leave now."

"You are not allowed to say the word 'can' to me, Ahriman," the Crimson King said in a thunderous voice. "I am Magnus the Red. I can do anything."

His heir just shook his head, "My Lord, that is not what I meant. What I meant was that we just received a summons to return to the center of the theater. The sentencing is about to begin."
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Just as my father had said, the verdict on Magnus and the Thousand Sons was clearly sliding towards one outcome from the very beginning.

Dantioch watched Magnus, Ahriman and the nine Scarab Lion Guards walking towards the center of the amphitheater. No one in the theater spoke, and thousands of eyes just stared at the fifteenth primarch and his offspring walking slowly towards the center of the theater.

Apparently, the atmosphere that still loomed before the verdict was passed, like the dark clouds before a storm, and mainly the guilty look on Fulgrim's face that was obviously turned away, the gray teardrop pattern that Sanguinius had painted on his face, and the proud and almost pious expression of triumph on Mortarion's face, finally made Magnus begin to admit that there was a real threat here, and the warsmith saw with his sharp eyes that the giant's muscles exposed outside his dress robes tensed.

...To be honest, it might still be the optimal solution to blow it up now.

Malcador's private conversation with the Emperor on the dais finally came to an end.

Then the Imperial Prime Minister left the throne and walked toward the small balcony protruding in front of the pyramid platform.

He struck the ground again with the end of the Emperor's Scepter in his hand, calling for silence in the theater, and his voice was carried throughout the venue.

The Imperial Chancellor announced the end of the meeting and the imminent verdict, "If anyone wants to express their views on this issue, this is the final opportunity. Otherwise, maintain noble silence until eternity."

Magnus lay motionless, as still as a sculpture of red sandstone, while his captain turned his head desperately, trying to find any allies in the great arena.

——Will the ally they contacted before do what he promised? Does he really dare to step forward in such a situation?

As if he had heard Dantioch's thoughts, the smile on the Lord of Steel's face became more obvious. He said, "Here I come."

A warrior stood up. He was covered in armor as white as the snow-capped mountains, with red edges like red flowers blooming under the snow-capped mountains. The symbol of lightning ran across his shoulder armor. His head was smooth, and the long hair left on the top was braided into a long warrior braid that hung down on one side. A crystal-like, psionic-enhanced hood surrounded his face, a tan face covered with ritual markings and weathered by the prairie wind.

In his hand he held a staff with a skull on top, and as he walked towards the center of the theater he carried with him the ancient dignity peculiar to a barbarian king and the calmness of old wisdom.

When he spoke, his unique heavy accent in High Gothic immediately revealed his identity as a native warrior of Chogoris, which made the worried Dantioch feel more worried again after he had felt relieved.

"I, Talihutai Yesugei, the Storm Prophet of the Borjigin Ogedei clan, have something to say about this."

It was clear that Yesugei was as wise and capable as his gene-father had promised, because Dantioch saw eleven other figures in power armor rising from various parts of the venue and beginning to walk in Yesugei's direction, each holding a staff and with a psychic hood covering their heads and shoulders. Among these people were several whose particularly ornate and extra-decorated armor indicated that they were the chief think tanks of their respective legions.

Dantioch read the markings on the power armor from behind. He recognized the insignia of the Dark Angels, Night Lords, Ultramarines, Word Bearers, Salamanders and Alpha Legions.

"He did. Oh, my goodness, I have a confession to make, father. For I secretly thought we should have chosen Chief Librarian Promus of the Ultramarines or Chief Librarian Ericas of the Dark Angels."

"He should have been able to do it. Although Jaghatai was sent away, Yesugei is not an ordinary man. As a Primarch, my meeting and support will only help him do a better job." The Lord of Steel replied, "But it is clear that the Blood Angels have different opinions on this."

After this reminder, Dantioch noticed that although the man in the red power armor of the Blood Angels was among them, he was not wearing a psychic hood. Sanguinius, who was sitting next to the Emperor on the podium, also smiled bitterly and bowed to apologize to the Emperor.

"Who is that?"

"Nasir Amit." There was a strange taste in the Lord of Steel's voice, "Well... Soltan, keep an eye on him and see if we can take him with us when we leave." Dantioch looked at his father in shock, who was calm as if he had just said what a nice weather.

At this time, the Storm Prophet's speech had come to an end, and he was making a final summary of his speech.

"…All weapons, whether flame bombs or explosive bombs, are weapons. When we conquer and open up new territories, it is like a craftsman who wants to do his work well, he must first sharpen his tools. If the tools are crude, it is like a man without restraint, which will harm others and himself. The harm of wandering psychics has been made clear by Lord Mortarion before. But who is more dangerous, a well-trained person or an ignorant one? Strength must be directed to the right path, and fierce iron must be forged a thousand times before it can be shaped. Without rules, it cannot be square or round. Once it can be formed, it will become a divine weapon and a better work."

"If we were to conclude that all psychics are evil, we would be forgetting the Empire's reliance. Without the Star Tongue, the worlds would be isolated; without the Navigator, the galaxy would be inaccessible. How can we question the Emperor's court when we question the Primarch Magnus? This matter must not be judged lightly, nor can it be declared absolute. Otherwise, this short-sighted move will bring great disaster. I swear on this staff that what I say is true. If there are those who doubt me, I am willing to meet them with arms."

The most horrifying part of Yesugei's final speech left the entire theater, watching openly and secretly, speechless for several seconds.

Then, it was as if someone dropped a drop of ice water into the boiling oil pan.

With a "buzz", angry shouts, panicked discussions and other sounds suddenly filled the entire theater's sky.

"My Lord, he is even bolder than I thought. Even the think tanks are looking at him in panic!" Dantioch exclaimed, "He is too bold..."

“Not good…!” The Lord of Steel suddenly stood up at this moment.

"grown ups?"

The guards rushed down the platform at Waldo's command, and a team of beautiful and tall silent nuns appeared in the shadows of the boxes at the edge of the theater.

"A bold lunatic! He dares to speak against the Lord of mankind! Take him away!"

The Storm Prophet remained calm in the chaos and shouted out the last words.

"What I say, there is a Primarch here to support me!"

The conference hall was silent for another second as if the still button had been pressed.

Then an even louder noise broke out.

Almost everyone in the pyramid-shaped stands had a frown or a look of surprise on their face.

Some of the most ancient Terran nobles had already begun to quietly sneak towards the passage behind the seats under the cover of their entourage.

Dantioch did not dare to turn his head to look around him.

The space they were in was now so quiet that one could hear a pin drop, and a terrible invisible thing was squeezing the warsmith's lungs, making him feel literally suffocated.

"Ah, damn it."

Finally, a half-annoyed, half-self-deprecating smile appeared in the Lord of Steel's voice, breaking the terrifying silence.

Dantioch couldn't tell whether he was truly angry or just insanely lazy.

"It makes sense that Horus personally asked Jaghatai not to come to Nikea... These people can't control the White Scars. No one can truly control the White Scars. I can't do that either."

He chuckled again. "However, he is indeed a man who was captured by the Khan and given the name of Talihutai Yesugei. He drank a mouthful of the god's wine when he was still a mortal and then put down the cup. It is true that the person who can sit up and hold on for a while is definitely not an ordinary person."

God? My God, my father is so crazy, talking about gods in the meeting of Nicaea to eliminate witchcraft, and who should sit on the throne? Who? What throne should he sit on?

These crazy words coming from the lips of the most noble mad prophet who was once lost in cold cruelty made Dantioch's loyal heart ache.

But now is not the time to think about that.

"What should we do now, Father?"

Dantioch had already clenched his weapon, and Thortan's form was rapidly switching between boiling lava and legion warriors, only his eyes remained icy blue - Dantioch had no time to care about his changes at this time, as long as he could be useful next, it would be fine.

Their genetic father snorted.

"What else can I do? Of course I should go out and face it. Otherwise, I will just stay in my little castle and feel sorry for myself for ten thousand years."

There was a roar of anger coming from somewhere.

So when everyone thought that the White Scars' chief storm prophet was talking nonsense because he didn't want to face reality, the black marble floor suddenly boiled.

The Grand Marshal of the Guards immediately frowned and asked a few questions in a low voice in the direction of the Sisters of Silence, but the reply he received made him frown even more.

The elements within the planet are being reconstituted here, as if someone is emerging from the depths of the stars in a black chariot.

The silver-grey armour of the Lord of Steel and his two sons, with their yellow and black stripes and silver skull-mask emblems, was illuminated by the faint glow of the pink sky above the Amphitheatre of Nicaea, but his armour only reflected the brilliance of the lights.

"——Yesugei is right. It is not that there is no Primarch who thinks that the judgment on this matter should not be so hasty and... absolute."

The Primarch of the Fourth Legion straightened his back, and smiled as his brothers looked at him in shock or disgust (this action caused a large number of terrified inhalations, and the oxygen content in the air dropped instantly).

"What do you think? - 'The Emperor of Mankind'."

(End of this chapter)