Warhammer: Start with a dog.

Chapter 756 He's a tyrant, you should give in to him.
“Excuse my bluntness, sir,” Captain August seemed to be trembling from head to toe. “Perhaps you should first send an advance force to establish positions and provide support after landing, and then lead… the War Marshal’s forces to deploy.”

"Hmm, I don't see any need for that. Just follow our orders. Oh, by the way, if you intend to disobey, we'll replace you on the spot. You don't want us to just put in a commander who's not as good as you to move your fleet, do you?"

O Terra, wise and benevolent Warmaster, why are you silent? Behold, your brother is speaking here like a capricious tyrant!

"Just as I said! Let my dear brother Horus take command from the air and provide support, while I will land first with my guards and a few good-looking and outstanding warriors. The other follow-up commanders can take care of it."

Good heavens, what on earth is going on? Could it be that Lord Horus has fallen into the hands of the Iron Lord with some irreplaceable weakness? And what about the unfortunate person who witnessed this...?

Captain August looked even more uneasy and nervous, and he almost pleaded, “But sir! Captain Fromm’s three companies and Commander-in-Chief Edoron’s company have not yet returned or made contact…”

"You mean, the Holy Blood Angels sent fifty Astartes, received no response, sent another fifty, still no response, and finally Fromm went all in and led the remaining men down to fight for weeks but couldn't come back up?"

"Or did Edoron, after hearing your report on this kind of piecemeal tactic, want to steal the credit and have the already small number of the Emperor's Sons start the Calabash Brothers rescuing their grandfather at his request? To be honest, the behavior of this darling of Forgrim and his level of self-confidence and pride have exceeded the limits of my understanding—but who can blame him when that pink guy... just likes this kind of foolishness."

The captain's ears were ringing, and he had no desire to understand what he was hearing.

He knelt down in despair, raising his hands high. "My lord! We may have already lost hundreds of elite Astartes here, and we don't even know what the enemy looks like! Under such circumstances, you, as a Primarch, cannot take such a risk!"

"I think he originally wanted to criticize me for being too reckless and that it would drag everyone down with me. What do you think?"

The steel tyrant merely chuckled and turned to inquire of his brother, whose faint frown lines between his brows had ruined the dignified yet kind air that his broad forehead and wide-set eyes had given him.

Under the expectant gaze of the captain, the war commander rubbed his temples and sighed.

Captain August's heart sank.

“Go and choose the landing vehicles and personnel you want.” He heard the war marshal say in an extremely helpless voice, “You can choose any of the ships in Fleet 69. I will send Malhohorst and two company commanders to accompany you on my behalf to ensure that no one will object.”

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Finally, amidst an atmosphere of suppressed anger, confusion, and unease, and under the watchful eyes of many, Ramizan's grand military review came to a close.

The following Astartes were fortunate enough to catch the eye of the Primarch, who had already begun to degenerate into a tyrannical and depraved figure in the eyes of many: six Iron Warrior Tyrant Terminators, all equipped with additional heavy defensive shields; the first, second, fifth, tenth, and thirteenth Company Commanders of the Shadowmoon Wolves, namely Azekel Abaddon, Taric Torgarden, Horus Asimand Jr., Gavial Loken, and Luke Seidri.

The five most powerful officers in the Shadowmoon Wolf Fleet were all taken away by the Iron Lord with a wave of his hand. Later, he also ordered the elite company members of these company commanders to prepare for the second batch to land on Stormbirds.

Furthermore, he demanded that the fleet's armories hand over their most powerful stockpile of portable explosives, and in a frenzy, ordered representatives of the Mechanicus to immediately modify three drop pods to be crammed with these explosives. "You must strongly object to this and stop him, my lord! The Iron Lord treats you as nothing, taking whatever he wants from your guards and legions; where is your authority now?! He is destroying your honor and using it to build his own ladder of advancement!"

Malhohorst's protest on behalf of the Warmaster only elicited frowns, sighs, and appeasement, doing absolutely nothing to stop the Iron Lord's jubilant eating and taking from the Legion.

The attendants are now meeting with the war commander—recently, the war commander has greatly improved his efficiency in handling official business, but he has significantly reduced the time he allows his attendants to accompany him inside.

Rumors have been circulating privately lately that Malhohorst, after his injury, may be less favored than before and no longer be able to serve as a warlord.

"Listen, Malhohorst, do you believe me?"

Horus's voice was deep, and his pine-green eyes turned to his heavily wounded squire. His large, broad hands enveloped the shoulders of Malohost's broken body, which could no longer be covered by armor, and waves of heat passed through the squire's robes to his skin.

“Of course, my lord.” The warlord’s attendant struggled to lift his head, but the severe injury to his spine and the wounds on his face resisted his will. “If I could still wear my armor and weapons, I would certainly speak out against the Iron Lord for you, instead of being able to shout in vain as I am now.”

“You did not cry out in vain, servant.” Horus’s voice became more approachable and moving. “You have conveyed the emotions of others at this moment, giving their questions a solidified outlet. That is good, my son. You have done well.”

“My lord…” Malorhorst’s broken lips trembled slightly, “Since you know all this, and since you, I, and the Council of the Four Kings have always played our respective roles well, cooperating effectively and smoothly commanding the legions and other armies, then why now…? The Iron Lord’s favor with the Emperor is not even half that you receive, and in the War Council’s power ranking, your orders must be obeyed. You are the War General, bestowed upon you by the Emperor, and our legions have received this immense honor along with you. No one can provoke it like this! If it is not taken seriously, even a small act of indulgence will sooner or later become an irreparable scandal, my lord! You have no reason to condone the Iron Lord!”

"I have it," Zhan Shuai replied calmly.

"What is that?" the general's attendant asked.

“Petulabau has one thing. Something… something that can completely change any existing order,” Horus said.

Malorhorst's expression also turned serious.

"Can't you take control of it yourself?"

No. No one can.

"Even the beloved emperor...? Are you sure he did?"

"No." The War General paused for a moment. "No. Malhohorst, your second question might offer some insight into this matter as we move on to this planet."

(End of this chapter)