Warhammer: Start with a dog.

Chapter 801 Anticipation
On the surface of Devon, hundreds of thousands of kilometers away from Devon Moon, a woman dressed in a primitive and ancient priest's robe stands anxiously on a cliff, looking up at the unusually bright new stars in the slowly descending night sky.

The hot wind blowing from the Great Rift Valley in the north, where the ancient royal mausoleums are located, carried the eerie fragrance of desert flowers that only bloom at night, causing the woolen robe hanging on her thin, aged body to flutter like a battle flag.

"why?"

Akshub murmured to herself, her hands, as thin as withered tree branches, gripping her priest's staff tightly. She squinted her wrinkled eyelids and looked up once more at the new stars that twinkled high in the sky, yet never seemed to fall as she had been inspired to.

She is the High Priestess of Delphus, the temple of the Serpent Society, and Devon's most respected priestess. Since her birth sixty years ago, she has been entrusted with a great mission by the messengers of the gods who descended from the heavens. Since then, she has been diligently honing her soul, mind, and warp skills to make full preparations for this day to come.

Since she completed her studies, she has come here every day to observe the stars, eagerly awaiting the day when she is destined to change the fate of the entire starry sky and the world for the sake of the gods.

Everything was just as the warriors of the gods had told her and her tribe. A few days earlier, she had seen a giant messenger of the gods wearing the strange armor described in the totems and scrolls.

According to the revelation left behind, she should see new, bright stars appear here within days, followed by streaks of meteors falling on Devon's red desert, bringing her the final step in this unparalleled and great achievement.

She will carry it out devoutly and meticulously, for the gods and their messengers have already promised her the reward she deserves.

So why haven't those new stars shed their fiery meteor tears after three days?
The sound of gravel being kicked to the side of the road from behind made her old but blessed ears twitch.

One of her acolytes peered out from the edge of the rock and climbed up the cliff platform where the priestess observed the stars, panting. The priestess relaxed her muscles slightly.

"What is it?" Akshub knew that anyone who came to her at this time must have something worth bothering her about.

"A new divine messenger has landed aboard a steel thunderbird," the acolyte reported. "Wearing divine armor different from the previous messenger, he brings new information about the opening of Delphis."

Upon hearing this, the priestess's wrinkled, deeply lined, and tattooed face shone with a fervent light.

"Let's go back."

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Is such an exaggeration necessary?

Euphrates Horus Kira looked at the layers upon layers of biochemical protective gear distributed to her and uttered a profound question.

Lucius, who was adding more breathing filters to his power armor that he had just squeezed (or rather, exploited) from the Cult of Mechanics in the past few days, let out a sneer.

"I say, beautiful Euphrates, what's going on in your pretty little blonde head? Isn't it a good thing for mortals to have more protection?"

"It's a good thing. But is it really necessary?" The reporter bent down, picked up the protective suit, and shook it. "This thing even uses the soft rubber connecting material from the Astartes power armor, right? It's probably not legal for ordinary people to use this."

“The Primarch’s demands,” Lucius began, inspecting the valves of his newly issued flamethrower. “In this place, a hundred and eight thousand miles from Terra, the Emperor’s laws can be proclaimed, but the Primarch’s demands are the laws we must enforce.”

"...? Is that something you should be saying?"

"...? Why shouldn't I have said that? I thought a mortal like you would understand these practical principles quite well. How come you seem even more clueless about practical matters than I am? And you can't possibly be unaware of how dissatisfied the Shadowmoon Wolves are with the Emperor in private, can you?"

"What?! How dissatisfied?! What did they say?!" Before he could even think, Euphrates-Horus blurted out, "What else do you know?! Who are they?! Tell me now!"

She used to learn about the Warriors' Society's activities through Malorhorst or the Council of the Four Kings, but now, as a mortal woman, she had no way to contact them—and even if she tried, none of the Astartes were willing to speak to her.

Loken was willing to talk to her, but as a newcomer, he was unaware of the many secret responsibilities of the Council of the Four Kings.

Therefore, upon hearing new information about the internal affairs of her offspring, she became somewhat flustered—what, had Mar lost control of Targoust and his Society? Wait, perhaps Mar was injured or too busy? This was not good…

The blue-eyed and purple-eyed people stared at each other for a while.

"Hmph." The swordsman, the son of the emperor, chuckled. "Anyone who didn't know better would think you were planning to have a heart-to-heart talk with each of them. You're a chronicler, and I won't tell you anything without permission. Look, I haven't even lied to you, so don't ask any more questions."

"But...who did you tell? Who did you find out about this?"

“Of course.” Lucius nodded. “I reported to the current master of the Vengeful Spirit. — Yes, I meant the Lord of Steel. It’s no use telling the Warlord now.”

"So what is his attitude towards this?"

“It’s nothing. This is not something you should ask. If the Lord of Iron wants to tell you, he will naturally tell you.”

The Emperor's Son chuckled. "Hurry up and put on your protective suit, Miss Qile. We're about to land in Devon Moon with the Primarch." He then clearly didn't intend to continue the conversation.

“If so… then it makes sense to land on Devon Moon first, but Peturabo doesn’t have that at all… aren’t we going to Devon? Devon Moon is full of forests, grasslands and tribes, what could possibly happen to it… maybe it’s just that there’s a seasonal flood that makes its color look strange.”

Based on her previous observations, the person inside Peturabo's body was completely indifferent to things like honor, quite free-spirited, and not just bluffing—anyone, whoever they were, was worthy of respect for being able to lift the Worldbreaker and casually knock Azekel Abaddon down with a single blow.

Since this person doesn't value honor at all (mainly because the person who was insulted wasn't him but Warmaster Horus), why would he risk landing on the Vengeful Spirits if the people left behind might take the opportunity to betray him? It can't be that he really did it for the honor of the Warmaster, can it?

—And how the Worldbreaker appeared there is completely unthinkable... Just how many of the Nikea Council’s prohibitions did Peturabo violate?

Just thinking about it gave her a headache again.

Just then, a pigeon cooed softly, and Horus felt a soothing coolness wash over her feverish head. The blonde Horus finally grabbed the protective suit and began to put it on.

----------

"Delphos... Pfft."

Pharmacist Walton sat quietly beside the warlord's bedside. He wasn't wearing power armor, only medical personnel's casual clothes, surgical gowns for easy sterilization, and slippers. He looked as if he was just tired. His head was tilted to one side, and he was sleeping soundly. His assistants were either leaning against the equipment or lying on the table, also in a deep, dreamless sleep.

Of course, in reality, as caregivers, they would never neglect their duties under normal circumstances. It was Peturabo who came up with a little trick to put all the pharmacists to sleep. As for the specifics... well, let's not get into it. Peturabo can do it; he's very skilled at it.

In short, Ramizan is currently in a quiet room, discussing matters privately with Peturabo.

"That's so obvious... Although this place looks like some kind of pseudo-Egypt, the temple of the Serpent Society is also known as Delphi... and there's a priestess, it couldn't be clearer. Delphi, the prophetess, right? Good heavens, they really love these things."

“That’s right.” Perturabo nodded slightly. “So you plan to go to Devon Moon first, then land in Devon, and finally take me to the temple?”

“Otherwise?” Ramizane shrugged. “Because Erebas had already plunged the Nemesis Blade into the ‘Warmaster’s’ body beforehand, his original plan had to be changed. Otherwise, if I had directly opened the Temple of Delphis in your identity and sent Horus’s body inside, Erebas wouldn’t have been able to take the opportunity to deal with the measures originally prepared on Devon Moon. Who knows what would happen if such a large target wasn’t dealt with? Besides.”

He picked up the Nemesis Blade in his hand and examined it closely. "We need to get this thing into Devon Moon... There's someone waiting there for a long time. I already guessed it, but I still want to hear what he has to say."

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Akshub leaned on his priest's scepter, craning his neck in front of her hut.

A cloud of dust rose from the reddish-brown horizon, and a group of Rhino troop carriers painted inconspicuous gray armor paint came into view. Only the trophy racks on the roofs, decorated like altars with gold and scrolls, identified the newcomers.

The lead vehicle stopped in front of the priestess's shed, and the person she knew, Eribas, who was also a god who drove the wheel of fate, was the first to jump out of the car.

Then, the second soldier stepped out of the Rhino troop carrier.

The pure white armor, like pearls, stung the priestess's eyes against the surface of the red desert.

"What's going on!" she shrieked. "Why is he here! That three-headed lackey of the Other God! He shouldn't be here! You've brought us calamity!"

The priestess raised her staff, and supernatural frost quickly condensed throughout the sweltering space, turning the tip of her staff a snow-white icy color. The believers and the crowd, except for her attendants, scattered and fled in panic, fearing that they would become the target of the god's wrath.

The warrior known as Cerberus neither became angry nor retreated; he simply stood there quietly watching her.

"Calm down." Irebas stepped forward and spoke to her. "Look closely, he is now a puppet of the gods, nothing more than a mouthpiece."

Akshub frowned, but did not immediately put down her cane. She sternly examined Gavial Locken's expressionless face and relaxed posture once more.

“Are you sure?” she said. “He still smells too…clean,” she sniffed again. “He doesn’t have the scent of blood, intrigue, and darkness that the gods love.”

“I’m quite certain. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have brought him here. I was entrusted by the true god to send him to deliver a message,” Eribus said. “The plan has changed. If I hadn’t brought him, you might have questioned me and decided not to perform the ritual.”

The slight apprehension in his words only made the priestess smile. "That is the caution you should have, warrior. My people have been exploring and adventuring among the extraterrestrial demons for thousands of years. You need my skills to help you."

She stood on the high platform of the shed, stretched out her bird-claw-like hand, and reached towards the forehead of Loken, who remained silent.

The noble and brave warrior remained motionless, allowing her to do as she pleased.

"You call him a messenger? Under what circumstances can he convey the message he's been given?"

Gavial Loken's mind hid behind his eyes as he sized up the priestess before him, trying his best to clear his head and think of something unimportant, as instructed by the Bishop of Steel, in order to make himself appear more in line with the identity he was playing.

—This world, 63-8, or Devon's world, was the eighth world that the Shadowmoon Wolves had reclaimed. Loken also knew that this world was later handed over to the Word Bearers who arrived in time, because the Shadowmoon Wolves were more eager to discover and conquer more worlds to glorify the Emperor and Horus than to focus on persuasion and internal affairs, which the Word Bearers were good at.

But how come he didn't notice at all back then?
Loken’s gaze swept over the faces of the priestess and her acolytes, faces that did indeed have some human features, but compared to the appearance of the Sixteenth Legion and their auxiliary troops and scribes, the situation was no better than that of the Kambraco people accepted by Interrex.

These Devon natives had completely black eyes, with no distinction between pupils and irises. Their disproportionately large facial features were hidden under the same thick hair as the Kambrako people. Even their arms and other exposed parts of their bodies were covered in thick fur.

—Seriously, aren't the descendants of Logar particularly averse to groups that look distinctly different from other races? Not to mention the Devonians built all these animal-worshipping temples—how did they escape the Word Bearers' methods of destroying cities? Cole Fallon and Eribus are both known for their harshness towards other religious cults.

With these thoughts swirling in his mind, Loken successfully made his eyes appear vacant and empty, while the priestess suspiciously withdrew her hand—clearly, her spying had only seen her own face reflected in Loken's eyes.

“Take him inside,” Iribus said. “To put your mind at ease, draw a magic circle next to him before letting him speak.”

“Come on.” Akshub nodded, turned and instructed the monks to lift the leather curtain and light the ceremonial fire.

Alright, this final test depends on how well the item the Lord of Steel gave him before sending him off works...

Hopefully, it's not too exaggerated.

The thought flashed through Loken's mind, and then, as a puppet should do, he obediently handed his hand to Eribas, who was extending his hand to him, and was led into the priest's hut.

(End of this chapter)