Warhammer: Start with a dog.

Chapter 787 So this is how a rational war general reacts when provoked?

Chapter 787 So, is it true that a rational war general encounters provocation?
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The intruders were not entirely unscrupulous.

After all, they at least wore combat-grade waterproof smocks or camouflage suits over their power armor.

All the Astartes except for Eribus wore helmets to cover their faces.

In other words, even if there were a few Interrex witnesses, the report Governor Naod would ultimately receive would only state that "the attackers were Imperial Astartes soldiers." Ordinary alien citizens, at such a distance, would have no way of discerning or knowing where to observe the power armor to obtain the necessary clues about the attackers' identities.

Although they did not have any public conversations, based on their tactical actions, this group clearly followed the lead of Airbas.

After several unsuccessful attempts to break through the display case's protective barrier without triggering an alarm, the chief pastor of the Word Bearers gradually became somewhat impatient.

He pondered for a moment, then took out a piece of chalk and a booklet from the small bag at his waist and began to sketch on the floor around the display case.

He first drew three circles of increasing size, with an eight-pointed star in the center. Then he added skull patterns and incantations to some of the nodes. Every now and then he would take out some different powders from the many small pouches and bags on his belt, pinch a pinch, sprinkle it on the nodes, or directly use the powder to draw the symbols of the Colchis script.

Although Eribas was drawing while looking at the booklet, his technique was not unfamiliar. He had obviously drawn similar magic circles many times, but this time he might need to make some modifications when drawing the magic circle.

As this pattern, which had absolutely nothing to do with science or imperial truth, was gradually completed in the hands of the chief priest, a swamp-like smell began to permeate the room. The fishy smell of rusting iron, the musty smell of damp mushrooms growing on wood, and the peculiar smell of spores mixed together. The originally cool and pleasant hall became damp and stuffy, and even the air seemed to have turned into some kind of viscous, transparent liquid that wanted to block people's breathing tracts.

Euphrates, perhaps feeling uncomfortable because of this, shifted a few times restlessly and anxiously between Loken and Ramizan.

The slight rustling sound of clothing rubbing against skin and the terracotta immediately caught the attention of Astartes, who was on guard duty, in the quiet hall.

They didn't utter any questions, but seemed to exchange a few quick words and tactical hand signals inside their helmets before a three-person team cautiously approached the sculpture in the corner.

Iribus remained focused on his work, and the magic circle on the ground emitted bursts of breathing-like yellow-green light.

As these lights gradually intensified, the light from the eerie blue protective field surrounding the weapon display case became increasingly strange and stagnant. Clearly, whatever energy flowed within the pattern, it was being guided by the chief priest and attempting to disable the protective field.

The three Astartes were already very close to the trio behind the sculpture.

Loken was unaware of the Iron Lord's next move, but the Iron Lord remained unmoved.

Moreover, there was a mortal woman here, and he had little confidence that he could save her life in the ensuing close-quarters firefight.

Three steps, two steps, one step...

Loken could already see the power armor beneath the smock in the increasingly bright yellow-green light, the conspicuous pearl white paint and the blued muzzle of the bolt carriers...

"!!*"

A loud shout, almost like a beast's roar, rang out at one end of the hall, at a doorway that had been guarded, but whose guards were now heading towards Loken and his companions.

Now, there stood an angry Kambrako man in a long robe, his lips curled up especially high, revealing all his fine, sharp teeth and pink gums.

Loken recognized him from his robes; it was Master Asherut, the instrument keeper of the Great Hall.

Clearly, the other party also immediately realized that there might be a problem with the protective barrier of the display case, so they came to check it out.

"Muddy and disgusting! Covered in boiling porridge, dripping with jade-like liquid!! Damn it, Li Kainari!"

The Kambraco man switched to a heavily accented Gothic language and spoke sharply, while striding over to grab Eribas's arm and pull him away from the weapons display case.

Everyone in the hall, including the Astartes, froze for a moment because of this sudden accident.

But when the smiling chief pastor turned around and saw the man who looked like a forced laborer, he didn't hesitate at all.

He made an almost imperceptible gesture toward Asherut, and the Kambrako clutched his neck, his deep-set eyes filled with shock and disbelief.

Then, bright red blood gushed from between his teeth, staining his pink gums with varying shades of red. He made a gurgling sound, as if his trachea was being filled with his own blood, and slowly collapsed to the ground.

Eribus raised his hand, holding a weapon that was neither gold nor stone, as if it had been forged by an ape-man from flint, with hot blood still dripping from the sharp edge of Asherut's arteries.

One of the Astartes seemed shocked by this brutal and direct act that undermined all efforts and possibilities of peace talks, but another Astarte quickly stopped and persuaded—or rather, threatened—him, and the former, who was clearly less inclined to resist or seemed worried about being shot on the spot by others, soon rejoined them.

As the threatening man turned around, the front of his helmet reflected a faint light at a certain angle, which the trio behind the sculpture could clearly see.

Loken closed his eyes, feeling a profound sense of despair: above the right eye of the helmet was a rough mark of a moon phase.

A trembling, burning, slender hand reached out and gripped Loken's arm tightly, as if trying to squeeze through the tattered steel.

Fortunately, it was terracotta armor; otherwise, he would probably have had his skin scratched by the force this woman was using.

He glanced down at the photographer out of the corner of his eye; she seemed to be using all her strength to stop herself from screaming: an Astartes-style murder of a member of a non-hostile nation had occurred at such close range.

Clearly, as a seasoned documentary and war photographer, Euphrates Kira was well aware of the terrible things this group of Astartes had done and the monstrous mistakes they had committed.

It's easy to imagine that if they were discovered, all three of them would be prime targets for elimination...

Loken found himself finding it hard to imagine the Astartes raising their weapons against a Primarch, even one from a different Legion, but recent events and the reality before him were breaking free of such imaginative constraints.

...Why do I feel the need to protect the Iron Lord with all my might? He's a battle-hardened Primarch.

...If these people, Erebas, were to kill him, Euphrates, and the Lord of Steel here, would the Commander choose to avenge them and uphold justice, or would he choose to cover up this horrific crime and perpetuate the mistake? Now, these intruders have clearly changed their tactics. They have violently kicked open doors and windows, creating a route to leave this place as quickly as possible. Meanwhile, Erebas is trying to collect as many weapons as possible from the weapons display case into a box he carries on his back.

Footsteps could be heard from other parts of the instrument hall, clearly from security personnel who had gone some distance and heard the commotion.

Several voices were anxiously calling Ashruth's name.

The intruders were ready to leave when Iribas whispered a brief order.

The trio could hear everything clearly from behind the sculpture.

"Kill anyone who dares to stop us. Set fire to this hall and erase all traces of our entry. Where are the promethium flamethrowers?"

An Astartes stepped forward in response, a flamethrower slung over his shoulder.

“Very good, let’s start the fire from here.” Irebas pointed to the weapons display case that had been looted.

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As the flames in the Instrument Hall burned and attracted the emergency management personnel of Zenobia, Governor Naod was hosting a reception dinner at his residence for the Warlord and his entourage.

After several rounds of drinks, the atmosphere between the host and guests remained polite and harmonious, and they were preparing to begin yet another round of futile negotiations—the Empire wanted the Interrex to submit with dozens of star systems, while the Interrex only wanted to treat these people as ordinary envoys between the two countries. As Abaddon and most of the officers said, the differences between them were simply insurmountable.

Suddenly, a livid-faced officer rushed in and whispered a report to Governor Naod.

"What!" The governor's voice suddenly rose an octave, and the translators' chants simultaneously became dangerous, tense, and oppressive. After listening to two more lines, the governor's expression changed drastically, and his pale golden eyes radiated a stern gaze as he stared intently at the war general who maintained a polite smile.

"How can you remain so composed here! You despicable liar! As expected, all that you warmongers brought was lies! You are indeed pawns in disguise for our great enemy! You bloodthirsty god of slaughter! You have become corrupt, chaotic demons!"

“I’m sorry, Governor Naod.”

The people of the empire were indignant at the baseless and malicious accusations that came their way, and they all stood up to retort. However, the person in charge simply raised his hand to suppress his subordinates' impulsiveness.

"Has something happened? Believe me, if I wanted to harm you, I wouldn't have come to this banquet without armor or weapons. If you're going to accuse us of such a serious crime, then perhaps you should let us know the specific charges against us?"

"The instrument hall is on fire." The translators' tunes were tinged with sadness and surprise.

"Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that."

Governor Naod sneered, "But the rescue workers also found Master Asherut's gruesome body in the fire. He was clearly murdered."

"What does this have to do with your accusations, or with us, Governor? We've been attending banquets at your residence all night, as you can see."

"A feint! A diversionary tactic!" the governor shouted sternly. "One of the Chaos Demons' favorite methods!"

"Could you please stop being so emotional and get to the point? After all, you're not singing opera, and we're not discussing the play's content for tonight."

The expression on Zhan Shuai's face gradually faded, revealing a stern and indifferent look, even a hint of impatience.

"Fine! How do you explain the eyewitnesses who rushed to put out the fire reporting seeing your soldiers' distinctive figures, which there's no way they could mistake, hurriedly leaving the fire?!"

"Is there any other evidence besides Zenobia's eyewitnesses?"

"Aren't multiple eyewitnesses enough?!"

"Of course not," Zhan Shuai said with surprise, giving the Governor a look as if he were a country bumpkin. "You say you saw it, but all you have are witnesses, and all of them were provided by your side. How can such a childish and arbitrary argument convince the public? How can it be believed by us? Where is the evidence? Images? Photographs? Videos? Or has someone left behind even a trace of them?"

"Hmph! All that talk is just an excuse to evade your crimes! I think you're just making excuses because you're guilty! Shameless! Corrupt lackeys of chaos!" The translators' tunes were full of condemnation.

Even the most rational and calm person around Horus now felt that this matter was bound to end badly tonight. Everyone knew how terrifying and irrational Horus would be if his reputation had been insulted to his face.

“You’re getting emotional again, Governor,” Zhan Shuai pointed out with a chilling calm. “This doesn’t help with tonight’s events at all. Is there any more concrete or further evidence? You say it was murder, so what are the specific autopsy results? What about your air traffic control records? Have you found any unregistered aircraft tracks or whereabouts? Especially in the foreign affairs area and the suburbs?”

"No more nonsense! You must immediately surrender all your weapons and armor to us and await search and further investigation under our supervision!"

"Are you sure you want to do this, Governor Naod?" The War General rubbed his brow, where three vertical lines had reappeared, as if annoyed.

"This is Interrex territory! Lay down your weapons and surrender! You must..."

"I really hate it when you insist on doing this even though I've already shoved the answer in your face. I can't believe you're one of the best generals and diplomats in your country. It's quite something that such a country was repeatedly destroyed and ravaged by the Empire until it was almost extinct... Never mind."

Zhan Shuai suddenly spoke, his powerful voice resounding throughout the banquet hall.

"What did you say..."

This astonishingly tall and muscular god stood up and, before the other could react, crossed the not-so-distant distance between them, lifting Governor Yefta Naod up as if he were a chick.

"You say we are the enemies of Chaos, the lackeys of the God of War of Bloodhand."

He said, "Well, I'd be very interested to hear with one of my friends why you mentioned... the word 'bloody hand,' which bothers me a lot."

(End of this chapter)

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