Warhammer: Start with a dog.

Chapter 726: Background and the patch given by Lao Deng
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As to why Rogal Dorn had shown up here and wanted to meet with them, Perturabo briefly explained the situation to Ramezane in a few words before the dressing attendants came in with new armor linings and power armor the size of the Primarch.

"You mean that two companies of the Imperial Fists and Rogal Dorn himself have been traveling with you for eight months. The purpose of his visit is to discuss with you the adjustments to the War Council and the future direction after Ullanor."

"That's it."

"And you said Cyjanus died three months ago."

"Yes."

"so……"

"Yes, so the conquest of World 63-19... In other words, from the time they first came into contact with this world with a yellow main sequence star, nine planets, the third planet was called Terra, and there was an 'Emperor of Mankind' on it, to the time when Cyjanus died, Malohost was shot down, the Luna Wolves began to attack and conquer the High City, and finally Horus landed in person to 'kill the Emperor' before we came, Rogal Dorn was actually in Horus' expeditionary fleet the whole time."

"Correct."

"It's incredible. I mean, almost no one noticed this - this - 'When Horus killed the Emperor, Loken was there, and Dorn was in orbit.' It's just a terrible flag."

"What's so terrible?"

"Flag, well, I would say it probably means something that has come true."

"I see. Also, no one has noticed this because although the 63rd Expeditionary Fleet now has a total of men and women who record it, Rogal Dorn and his descendants did not participate in the decision-making throughout the process, nor did they send any Imperial Fists to participate in this battle. Therefore, there are no silhouettes of battlefield heroes to be photographed, nor are there any primarchs who can write sonnets. The restrictions they are subject to also make them lack sufficient willingness to inquire about such trivial matters."

Perturabo had apparently heard some movement in the distance, and under his own will, the muscles of his face began to shift to a more familiar position. Ramizarn watched helplessly as the familiar micro-expressions disappeared from the face of the primarch opposite him as if they were being smeared.

Now, the man standing opposite him looked almost exactly like Horus Lupercal, the commander of the Luna Wolves, the new Warmaster and leader of the War Council. Apparently, Perturabo was really experienced in being a Warmaster or Warmaster Horus. The Perturabo who always looked somewhat expressionless and sad had temporarily disappeared behind the mask of the Wolf God.

"So," Perturabo said in a voice full of overflowing enthusiasm and kindness, but it did make people sound happy, "Although we have so many photographers, painters, poets, musicians and actors, there are no recorders who would use their so-called artistic creativity to record such so-called trivial matters. That's why no one paid attention to this matter later."

“But it’s often the insignificant little things that we should really be careful about.” Ramizarn continued subconsciously.

“The devil is in the details.”

"——Maybe there are gods too."

These were the words Khadormo Fricks heard as he personally escorted Perturabo's power armor to the Warmaster's private chambers, carefully but with the arrogance of a favored son of the Primarch.

At first, the Chief Trident did not recognize who was saying this - his eardrums refused to accept such a pleasant, warm and lazy tone coming from a gloomy, resentful and suppressed voice that they were most familiar with. But when he immediately realized who was speaking the next second, he felt all the cables and sensor patches connected to his scalp stand up.

He looked slightly nervously at the two tall demigods who were waiting to put on their armor in the room, but was met with a pair of smiling light blue eyes.

"Ah... Fricks? Isn't this Fricks?" His gene father used a semi-questionnaire with an upward ending tone, not as if he was unfamiliar with him, but more like the joy of seeing an old friend again after a long separation. "You brought people here in person? I'm really happy. Who else came with you? Are the others on the Iron Blood?"

Then the noble god who looked exactly like his genetic father walked towards them with a smile so bright that it made people dizzy.

Fricks was pretty sure he heard some unfortunate, petrified guy behind him almost drop the LOGOS component he was holding, but he had no time to turn around and clean up the situation because he himself was dizzy.

——Having a long conversation with Lord Horus overnight can have such an effect?! Is this the value of being the Warmaster that everyone wants?!

Then he noticed that Master Horus's expression seemed unnatural for a moment, and then he strode over and grabbed Master Perturabo's arm - Fricks' eyes widened - and then widened even more - with a few low gasps, the Warmaster began to whisper with the Lord of Steel with a hint of urgency between his brows.

Then they saw an expression of sudden realization and regret on Perturabo's face, and he nodded at the same time.

"Well. He doesn't know." The Lord of Iron said, "Hey, I thought I could find time to go back and see Kelly Fanny and the others..."

"There are always chances," they heard the Warmaster say before walking off to change at the other end. "It is these hopes we strive for."

"hope so."

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Sixty minutes later, in the strategic room of the Vengeful Spirit, which could accommodate hundreds of people and Astartes and was hung with the emblems of three legions and the flag of the Warmaster, Ramizane, wearing armor, stood beside "Horus Lupercal". He seemed expressionless but was actually so nervous that he tightened his toes in his boots, waiting for the gold and scarlet door at the end of the passage to open.

He pretended to look straight ahead, while his peripheral vision secretly scanned every Astartes officer present in the strategic room, trying to match them one by one with the names he knew. Fortunately, as they were in the presence of the Warmaster, they were not wearing helmets at this time, but slung them solemnly around their waists, so everyone's face was clearly visible.

This man, who can only wear a robe with the legion's emblem because of a deformed spine, leans on a cane, and has many recent wounds...Malohorst, the Twisted, the Warmaster's squire.

This one, an oversized Terminator with pearl white shoulder armor, wearing a black wolf skin, and a high sky-high braid tied up with silver rings, okay, no need to guess who it is.

This one has a clean-shaven head with ointment on it, a strong physique, and looks most like a smaller version of the original around him. Oh, no need to guess.

As for the other two... Ramizarn would not mistake the two old employees of the Wandering Port Restaurant. He blinked and quietly suppressed the sudden moisture in his eyes: these were the faces of Tariq Torgaddon and Gaviel Loken above their pearly white power armor, younger, more energetic, more... simple, beautiful and ignorant.

At this point the Astartes had never attacked an Astartes.

The betrayal has not yet occurred.

(End of this chapter)