Warhammer: Start with a dog.

Chapter 656: Unraveling the Mystery (Part )
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"This is absolute nonsense!" Magnus shouted, his scarlet skin boiling like magma formed by blood, the basalt ground where his feet stepped turned into molten magma, and the beautiful shoes that matched his dress, which were made of precious and comfortable materials but had no protective power, were completely vaporized. Only a few wisps of the stench of burning organic matter and compounds showed that they had once existed on the noble feet of the Fifteenth Primarch.

"There you go again. Sit down, Magnus. Do you want to be kicked out? Once their questioning is over, I will question you! - I am different from Malcador. I do not need each of you to defend yourself. I just need to question all the testimonies and let the testimonies speak for themselves!"

Ramizane spoke before the black and white dog could cause the Space Wolves to rush forward, "—and, put on your shoes!"

As if with some magic power, the last sentence caused Magnus, which had already begun to develop into a humanoid red giant, to deflate and shrink again like a punctured balloon.

The Fifteenth Primarch curled his lips, snapped his fingers reluctantly, and under the extremely disapproving looks of everyone present and the angry glares of the Space Wolves, he conjured up a new chair to replace the one that had just been burned in half. When he sat down, he had already put on a pair of new shoes on his feet.

Ramizane no longer wanted to correct Magnus's details. Haha, no matter how good your magical pony is now, I will make you more powerful later.

Malcador's brows furrowed even more tightly, almost enough to pinch a dozen flies to death. He met Waldo's eyes again, and the latter also looked serious and shook his head at him.

Malcador knew what the shaking of his head meant. He had just apparently witnessed Magnus ignoring the large number of Sisters of Silence deployed here and using his psychic powers to successfully "create something out of nothing". Therefore, the look the Imperial Chancellor gave the Marshal of the Guards meant to ask whether the Sisters of Silence were still on duty and everything was normal.

Waldo responded that he had not received any reports of attacks or changes to the Sisters of Silence.

But the Sisters of Silence had done their job very well, and for a long time no one had noticed that three Great Companies of Space Wolves and their Wolf King himself were hiding in the lower levels of the theater, until the Rune Priest Othrel was the first to appear in the theater and make his accusation.

So the special abilities of these soulless people still exist...that is, something has changed, so that Magnus can use the forbidden power of knowledge here.

The only variable here is...

Malcador's sunken eyes stared at the backs of the man and the dog in front of the throne.

...Which one? Or both? Or two negatives equal a positive?

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"We won't ask your name... Wild Bear, since you arrived just as Amon Tauromachian was unable to move, please describe to us in your own words everything you saw and experienced."

The Space Wolf named Wild Bear saluted them, although it was simple, he did it fairly standardly. His hair was longer than his shoulders, and because of the medical need to clean the wound on his face, it was tied into a bunch behind his head. His skin color was definitely not the pale color in the living room or the white color given by genes, but the color of a sailor and a warrior who had been weathered by the sun, but the original light pigment at the bottom made the final skin color look like a wooden surface that had been weathered by the sun and rain.

What is striking is that there are other features on his face that are darker than his skin color. They are special strip tattoos that wrap around his eyes and extend from the bridge of his nose to his cheeks. Although there are many tattoos, they are very organized and not abrupt. They modify the shadow of his skull, and with his slender head shape and protruding muzzle due to fangs, he looks more like a mask outlined by wolf lines on a human skull.

Of course, all of this should have been the best appearance of an excellent son of Fenris, but now these carefully designed tattoos and other things have been replaced by bruises or scratches from blunt claws. The dog claw king's fist obviously hit him really hard in the end, resulting in that even the Astartes' recovery ability could not fully restore him in half a day, at least not his knocked-out teeth, and when he opened his mouth, they could still see the missing black holes.

"When I arrived," Wild Bear said in a thick Fenris accent, sounding a bit like a wild beast making gurgling sounds while speaking in human language, but fortunately it was clear enough, "the Guards had been immobilized by evil witchcraft (he spat at his feet as if to drive away the bad luck, and Waldo looked like he was about to reach his limit of endurance.). He had his back to the entrance of the platform, and was almost walking over to look at the theater, while the wizard in the red armor of the 15th Legion was also leaning against the gap at the edge of the platform, looking down."

"and then?"

"I realized something was wrong before I got close. I moved quietly over there, while Ornn Evilwinter was in charge of outflanking the other side—we didn't want him to get away. When I was looking over there, the wind blew towards me, and I heard the Thousand Sons wizard say in person that they didn't use methods that could be easily detected, tampered with, and eliminated to control the poet, nor could they use conversations or written orders to demand him. He said they were..."

He cleared his throat, clearly imitating the Thousand Son's scholarly tone, emphasis and word formation, "'We will make the request in your dreams and write it in your memory, which is most effective.'"

There was a moment of silence, and even Magnus was silent.

"and then?"

"Then the poet asked him back, asking if his meaning was that his life had been carefully shaped by them, and that he had no choice at all, and that his fate had been determined. Then the wizard called out Casper, and the poet said something else, which was just enough to cover the sound of my footsteps to the closest distance, so I told the wizard to step back..."

"Wait, what did the poet say? I know Astartes has a good memory, you try to recall it." Some people frowned, some coughed, and some showed annoyed expressions, as if they thought that the Fourth Primarch's meticulous approach was too close to the front-line personnel and should not appear in such an imperial questioning meeting, but the parties involved did not care what they thought.

"Try to recall it as best you can. Or even imitate what he said," Ramizarn insisted. A strong intuitive sense of connection emerged in his mind, which also caused ripples in the sea of ​​​​Perturabo BC's mind.

The wild bear seemed to find it strange, but his Primarch, Russ, with claws whiter than the snow of Anaheim and stronger than the Kraken, gracefully hammered out the order for him to obey the Lord of Steel's demands.

So he did as he was told, and after a moment's careful reflection, he tried his best to imitate the conversation he had heard.

"That was almost all questions," said the wild bear. "We rarely talk like this, and rarely ask questions in such a series. We don't usually use so many questions to say a paragraph. I think the poet probably asked him, if forgetfulness is the real evil, why does he use forgetfulness as a means? Why does the poet remember some things clearly, but has no impression of others? If forgetfulness is the greatest evil he has confirmed, why does he use forgetfulness as a means to manipulate him? 'Why is my memory incomplete? Is there something you don't want me to see?'"

Click.

The sound of armor hitting hardwood almost made the sweaty Hawser jump pathetically. He was almost on pins and needles as the wild bear repeated his conversation with Amon, and because after the next few words they started fighting, the bard of the Third Company felt like a person who was afraid of ropes for ten years.

But the noise was simply the Lord of Steel leaning back in his chair, subconsciously tapping the armrest of his throne with the fingertips of one hand.

"Interesting," the Lord of Steel murmured at last. "Thank you for your testimony, Bear. It brought this to my attention. And now?"

"Then the wizard asked him what he wanted to say. At this time, I was only two steps away from walking behind the poet, so I took a big step forward and said to the wizard, "Stand back."

"Did he listen? I guess not."

"Of course he didn't." The Bear shrugged. "I told him to stand back. I told him it was my duty to protect the poet, so he had to stand back. He was like a deaf person, he kept talking nonsense, saying something like 'Is it appropriate for you to point a weapon at a fellow Astartes, Brother Wolf?' Ugh! (He spat again), who is a brother to such a witchcraft manipulator!"

Magnus shifted uncomfortably in his seat again, as if he were sitting on the crater of a volcano.

This time, before he even tried to speak, he was rewarded with a vicious, disarming look and a sneering expression that he couldn't help but laugh at - especially when the latter came from a handsome dog face.

This immediately aroused the learned Primarch's honest dissatisfaction - Russ, you bastard, I can't help but refute you?! I'll just hold it in for you to see! So he shut his mouth tightly, raised his head high, and let his long red hair flow down his straight back. Humph! Look at my demeanor and bearing, which are better than your abominable lush mane and beautiful back hair lines... What the hell is this word?! What the hell is this?! When did it get into my mind?! My mind is not clean?!

"And then what? You guys started fighting?"

The bear grunted. "Almost, sir," he said vaguely. "Owen Evilwinter was also helping me deal with the wizard. Then they talked for a few more words before we started fighting."

The Lord of Steel raised one eyebrow visibly.

"Ornn Evilwinter." His icy blue eyes turned to a Space Wolf waiting at one side of the audience hall, looking at the wolf's power armor engraved with runes and totems, his large and small herbal bags, his walking stick and his rune stone, tooth and claw pendant. "He is your rune priest, right?"

"Yes, my lord. Badwinter is the Rune Priest of our Great Company."

"So, Ornn Badwinter was actually engaging in a psychic battle with this Thousand Sons sorcerer named Amon in order to help you, right?"

The wolf hesitated, but Leman Russ quickly typed, "Tell the truth to the Lord of Steel! I'm here, kid, there's nothing to worry about!"

"So," he shrugged, "that's what happened. Winter used his sacred old arts to weaken the wizard's evil influence, and then the bard tricked the wizard into revealing to the four of us that he had sent the bard to infiltrate Fenris and used him to eavesdrop and spy on us. We two, a Custodian and a bard, heard his testimony."

The muscles on Magnus' face were twisted, and he seemed to be making a difficult and painful decision: should he stand up and loudly refute these bastards who were throwing dirty water at him and the Thousand Sons, or should he maintain noble silence and keep his promise, so as not to be ridiculed by Russ for his self-control before being kicked out?
"Oh," said the Lord of Steel, "So you didn't have the slightest doubt about everything he told you during this whole process? Wasn't it a little... too easy for him to be so easy to talk to and confess so easily? After all, as you said, he is a wizard, isn't he?"

"What are you doubting, Lord of Iron? I followed the scent not long after the poet left. I watched them walk through the tunnel and reach the platform with my own eyes, and then followed to see the Custodians frozen in time, and the wizard's form emerging from the air like water vapor. The lower area is guarded by the group of silent girls, so it is unlikely that the wizard will get close, and in the tunnel, as I said, there are guards from the 9th and 14th Legions. They never left our sight during the whole process, and if it weren't for the last group of soft... Custodians who lost him, you could be here to question this evil spirit in person."

Wild Bear said gruffly, "Even if you want to pretend that you don't believe us, sir, do you still doubt the reliable testimony of the Imperial Guards? This golden creature is guaranteed to be resistant to evil spirits."

"It's not that I don't believe what you say. But I think that as a questioner at the inquiry, the minimum quality is to remain skeptical and neutral to both sides before everything is over. Besides, even if there is resistance, it won't be too much." The Lord of Steel said, "At least from your testimony so far, this Thousand Son was able to control him silently and appear beside him without performing any rituals."

For a moment, Waldo seemed to have melted his face into a mask. The wild bear who was secretly observing him felt that the muscles under the golden armor of the Imperial Guard Marshal must have been thinking about how to suddenly attack a certain host of the questioning meeting.

And Amon Tauromachian lowered his shaved head in shame.

Perturabo BC sneered slightly under the fur.

"That's right, my lord," said the bear. "Perhaps you should let Ornn Evilwinter explain it to you next, because I don't quite understand the principle of the magic that the wizard uses, and I don't want to understand it at all. If you ask me to explain or repeat it to you, I'm afraid I won't be as clear as Ornn."

Magnus' face had turned red by now, and he really seemed to have many points in Wild Bear's testimony that he wanted to refute.

"Alright." Ramizarn glanced at him. "You see, there are many clues that can be found by questioning each of the testimonies one by one. My approach is obviously very wise. Do you still want to interrupt me and get kicked out? If you are kicked out, there will be no one here to represent you and your offspring and be questioned by me."

The fifteenth Primarch pursed his lips and nodded with difficulty to his fourth brother who seemed more wise and powerful, indicating that he could hold on.

"Then, next."

(End of this chapter)