Warhammer: Start with a dog.

Chapter 783 Such a useful Nemesis Blade, and so many more!
Zenobia, the capital of the Interrex Frontier, is an elegant seaside city on the shores of the ammonia sea. It is backed by the lush, dark green forests of the mountains that stretch from the mainland to the bay.

The continent where the city is located has a mild climate with gentle breezes. The city's buildings are situated on a hillside facing the sea, and the soft, pale yellow sunlight shines on the elegantly colored towers with their spires decorated with gold or silver leaf.

From the dense, dark green canopies of trees, brightly colored flags made of nameless, thin fabrics protrude from the flagpoles atop the spires, fluttering like long ribbons over the city.

The inhabitants of Zenobia are generally tall and slender, moving nimbly and gracefully through the steps and streets of this seaside mountain city. Fountains, ancient sculptures, and modern works are scattered throughout the city, and the architectural styles reflect its ancient and long history as well as its continuous attempts to incorporate new trends and technologies.

"I hate to say it, but this place is so stereotypical."

Saint Gilles was marveling at how beautiful this place was. Although it was a border town with a style that leaned towards delicate and fragile, it still had a unique charm that was no less magnificent than an imperial stronghold. Just then, he heard his brother, who had recently become sharp-tongued and very talkative, making a rather unromantic comment from the side.

"When some brilliant mind came up with the idea of ​​creating a seaside resort-style elven city on an ammonia-ocean planet to simulate the beaches of Arcanania or Etoria, did they ever consider the smell of an entire ammonia-ocean and whether it could support a continental rainforest? — Well, even so, why would plants in an ammonia-ocean and under a dim sun need chlorophyll, I ask you."

The three of them were now standing at the starting point of the welcoming ceremony, with a perfect view of the wind blowing across Zenobia Bay and the cotton-like clouds. If you disregarded the ammonia-colored ocean, the gray-pink sky, and the emerald green twilight light, everything was so peaceful, beautiful, and magnificent.

The citizens of Zenobia, dressed in their finest attire and carrying bouquets or baskets filled with spices and petals, gathered along the main road, ready to wave bouquets, shower petals, and sing welcoming songs as the visiting delegation's floats passed by.

Above the clouds that drifted by under the emerald green sunset, the twinkling stars were faintly visible, and the air was filled with the fragrance of the local dark green spice trees that rose at night. Because the sunlight was intense during the day, large crowds began to appear on the city streets and beaches at dusk, and grand welcoming ceremonies, parades, and subsequent banquets were all arranged for this purpose.

“I don’t understand why you say that, Peturabo,” Sanguielles asked patiently. “Is there something wrong here?”

"What? You don't find anything wrong at all?! When I got here, I felt like I was in a resort on the northern coast of the Mediterranean Sea in the old Earth. The ammonia-filled ocean, instead of smelling and exploding under the sun, actually gave off a Tuscan sea breeze smell. It's really absurd, but there's nothing I can do about it, after all..."

Using the shadow of his cloak, Warmaster yanked Iron Lord's arm hard. Iron Lord shut his mouth with an "Oh," and then Iron Lord naturally stood behind Warmaster. Horus also naturally accepted the offer to turn his back to Iron Lord.

Saint Gilles' smile faded slightly: although he had been trying to join his two brothers and Horus had always been open with him and valued him highly, it was obvious that something must have happened between the Iron Warrior and the Shadowmoon Wolf that he was unaware of.

Regarding this issue, both Radoron and Azcalon had considerately inquired about it indirectly for the Father of Genesis, and information from other public channels had also been gathered by Sanguiles: So far, in addition to reports of heavy losses in the battle against the Hruds and rushing to their home planet to replenish their troops, a few intelligence sources have indicated that there may be signs of a rebellion in Olympia.

No matter how you look at it, it doesn't seem like Peturabo should be sitting calmly and securely with him and Horus at this point, right? The fact that he's still here is... very suspicious.

However, Saint Gilles did not express any of his questions for the time being. Given that Horus and Perturabo were currently acting as if they were not that close, but to those who were interested, they were practically intimately acquainted, it would be inappropriate to ask Horus rashly.

Perhaps he's waiting for a breakthrough... but will he be able to find one?

As the last rays of green sunset disappeared below the horizon, bright, dazzling lights, like stars falling to earth, lit up one by one before their eyes, illuminating the outline of Zenobia's city, a city dominated by white, gray, gold, and silver, with its rows of buildings and winding corridors.

Protecting them were members of their respective Primarch Guards: Gastalin in black armor, the Tyrant Guard in silver-grey, and the Blood Guard in crimson. In addition, Shadowmoon Wolves provided an elite 15-man squad as a ceremonial escort, surrounding them with solemn pearl white armor.

In addition, there was the ceremonial guard provided by Governor Naod of Zenobia. This guard consisted of spearmen, archers, and Kambraco heavy infantry that they had seen on the ships of the Vengeful Spirits and General Shehan, and they were shown how the man-made machines known as "Sagittarius" were used.

Before setting off, the Interrex archers locked their legs into the forelimbs of these quadrupedal walking machines, which Perturabo had always called "mechanical dogs." Thus, they became humanoid in upper body and self-contained mechanical in lower body, wielding exquisitely crafted ancient-style bows and arrows, like the centaur archers of Anatolian and Arcadian legends, marching majestically ahead of the visiting procession to clear the way for them.

"I admit I really didn't expect it to be a Sagittarius like this. And it even serves as a motorcycle in the state guest motorcade!"

Saint Gilles tilted his wing and heard Peturabo continue to comment quietly. "I think we should consider learning about it and recommending it to Chagatai and the White Scar; they would most likely love this kind of machine."

This playful yet intimate humor even made the Angel Lord's lips curl into a smile. Is Perturabo always this funny?

The armor of the Interrex cavalry and Cambrac heavy infantry was mostly silver, polished to a shine, and decorated with gold, with more color added for the ribbons and wreaths used in today's ceremony.

As the envoy's procession moved forward, cheering citizens lined the streets and began throwing large amounts of flower petals, ribbons, and even handkerchiefs onto the ground.

A fresh sea breeze blew from the ammonia-filled ocean, carrying the scents of deep green aromatic trees and crushed flowers, filling their breaths. The translators and musicians, uniformly dressed in light green robes and carrying musical instruments, surrounded the procession like court musicians from ancient legends, producing ever-changing and magnificent chants with their instruments and chants.

According to Peturabo's whispered translation, these rhythmic tunes primarily announced the visiting figures and main events of the ceremony in all directions, expressed joy for the lost compatriots of ancient Terra, and included some official-style praises.

In conclusion, the grand welcoming ceremony successfully concluded on the mountain at the end of the avenue.

This place is far from the main city of Zenobia, and apart from the official reception staff, the honor guard and their own escort, there is no one else to be seen.

However, the surrounding scenery is beautiful and the vegetation is lush. The flat and solemn stone steps and the fountains and sculpture gardens on both sides show that this place is by no means an ordinary place.

What do you think this place is?

A sudden inspiration struck him, and Saint Gilles couldn't help but ask the Lord of Steel first. The Lord of Steel looked at him with some surprise, but still answered him.

"I guess this must be the instrument hall that General Representative Shehan mentioned."

"This name is unusual. Has he mentioned it before? I don't know about it."

"I did mention it, but it wasn't appropriate for me to get him drunk in a crowded place." His brother, who was dressed in full armor but somehow managed to exude the air of a leisurely retired scholar, shrugged.

“Now you know. If it’s this place, the things inside will only be more special.” After being solemnly led by Governor Naod into this massive building, which was embedded in the mountainside and was half above ground and half underground, for a while, Saint Gilles admitted that Peturabo’s statement was very prescient.

Speaking of which, hasn't his brother been speaking with a somewhat prophetic quality lately? Could he be like him...?
"Please allow me to introduce these weapons to you."

The speaker was Governor Yefta Naod, who was the plenipotentiary representative for the negotiations, chosen by the Zenobian royal officials ("Why does it have to be 'royal' here! I think some of them have a bit of 'royal' in their heads!"—a strange comment from Peturabo). Shehan was absolutely right, though he left out one thing: Governor Naod was also the representative of the Interrex military in the area.

Clearly, the Imperial Warmaster title, the imposing presence of the Astartes, and the powerful display of the Legion warriors and fleet must have left a deep impression on the Interrex.

Loken overheard the other three members of the Council of Four discussing the matter privately, and they all believed that it was because the Interrex were wary of, or rather, afraid of, the Empire's powerful military might.

The governor's attire during the reception also speaks volumes. Governor Naod had pale gold eyes, a tall and imposing figure, and like many Interrex, his right cheek was covered with intricate and elaborate markings. He wore a full suit of Gothic silver armor, with a scarlet chainmail cloak hanging from his shoulders. His helmet, ornately decorated with large, cloud-like tassels, was not chained at the waist by the Astartes, but was held in the hands of a servant throughout the reception.

"What replica of the knight and his squire..."

The War General's brows were furrowed so deeply they could trap a fly, but because he was having a friendly conversation with the Governor and had to appear nonchalant and even nodding with a smile, his facial muscle control was put to a great test. Under these circumstances, Saint Gilles, unable to bear it any longer, finally tugged at the Lord of Steel.

"what's up?"

“Perhaps,” the Lord of Angels said softly, “my brother, would you be willing to share your thoughts on these exhibits here?”

"Oh? Aren't we going to listen to the governor's introduction? He is the one who owns this place."

"His introduction will be heard by the warlord and our guards; there are so many ears here," the angel laughed.

“That makes sense, but the exhibits here are quite diverse,” Peturabo said, walking up to a display case. “Look at this, this weapon. Does the design of the blade look familiar to you?”

"This looks like the Chabal sabers of the emperor's sons? But it also looks a bit like the ones Magnus's sons used to carry."

“That’s right.” His brother nodded. “Actually, it’s most similar to a weapon called the Talwar sword from the South Asian region of ancient Terra. Yes, it’s a saber, which was later partially adopted in the design of the sabers of the ancient Albion light cavalry. Perhaps this design inspiration is a convergence of different paths among humans, or perhaps it was the design of ancient Terra that influenced it. Isn’t that interesting?”

"As for what you said about the kind of thing Magnus's sons liked to use... I thought, huh? They actually have one of these here? Did they fight each other before?"

Their steps halted before another display case radiating a blue field of light. Inside, the blades bore peculiar lightning-shaped curves. "This thing looks like a stabbing blade. Let me check the nameplate... Hey, it really is trophy..."

With a low murmur, the Lord of Angels opened his eyes wide and watched as his brother reached out towards the blue protective force field.

That's incredibly rude and casual! Won't it trigger an alarm, or maybe it simply won't work...?

Perturabo's fingers passed through the field as if they were nothing, touched the strange weapon in his collection, and then withdrew them.

Nothing happened.

"Hmm...it seems there's nothing inside, so it's just an ordinary loot. Look at this thing, the closest thing to it is the Khepash scythe of ancient Terra, also known as the Hittite scimitar, a very interesting coincidence."

“I never imagined you were so learned, brother,” the Lord of Angels said sincerely. “The title of scholar was not easily associated with you before, but perhaps the Iron Warrior will one day become as wise as you?”

“They have always been wise, not like me, Saint-Gilles,” the other replied. “It’s just that we need to give them the opportunity and space to speak, and that is something we need to focus on developing in the future.”

A strange smile appeared on the Iron Lord's face. "After all, the Imperial Fist is just... too lovable. Iron Warriors can't afford not to work hard."

Okay. How could I have suddenly thought Peturabo had changed his ways? This is still the same Peturabo!
"Gentlemen, please take a look at this."

Governor Naod raised his voice slightly, and the musicians' music rose to a more stirring tune.

"Next, we will show you some of the most dangerous weapons in this museum, which may be the most dangerous and deadliest in the universe, so much so that they must be kept here."

“What do they mean?” Loken heard Asimand whisper. “A demonstration? A mockery? Showing off their powerful confidence by having put their most dangerous weapons in a museum?”

“If that’s the case, then we should kill them all,” Abaddon muttered, clearly disliking the place.

The group followed him into the deepest part of the exhibition hall, which was almost entirely inside the mountain.

The blue light field in this exhibition hall was significantly stronger than that in the outer exhibition halls, and a Kambraco man in a long robe was standing here waiting for them.

“Oh. Damn it.” Sanguires heard his brother Peturabo mutter again. “So many… how am I supposed to know which one it will be?”

He followed the other person's gaze and saw a display case emitting a faint blue light, containing more than a dozen rapiers, daggers, or similar weapons of various sizes and lengths.

(End of this chapter)