Warhammer: Black Emperor

Chapter 389 The Architectural Art of the Three Primarchs

"I'm happy to receive your architectural drawings and bring them to life. I believe you are a great architect, and none of your designs should be overlooked, but..."

Peturabo's anger subsided instantly, and a dazzling light shone in his eyes.

"But the architectural style of my palace is also a kind of art, and I think you should learn to appreciate it."

Upon hearing this, Peturabo looked around.

Everything around us is deconstructed and transformed into numbers:

The battle flag is 3.3 meters long and 1.1 meters wide.

The twelve battle flags, all identical, eased Peturabo's furrowed brow somewhat.

But soon, the flags of the First Battle Group, painted with scales, and the flags of the Second Battle Group, painted with the sun, were 5.2 meters apart.

The flags of the Second Battle Group and the Third Battle Group, painted with a deep black moon, were 6.1 meters apart.

Why are the distances between each flag different?
Peturabo also recalled images of irregularly painted wings, lines, and other shapes on asymmetrically arranged black jade floor tiles following the Fibonacci sequence.

"Art appreciation?"

"In this palace, all I see is a loss of balance, a state of disorder, and a lack of careful design and proper calculation."

“Art is usually unrelated to precise calculations; it is those things that are unrelated to logic that are the source of art,” Ning Lu said meaningfully, his eyes deep.

[Art has nothing to do with technology!] Nimrod's words struck Peturabo's heart, ruthlessly tearing open a corner of his long-buried memories.

He had failed before; his adoptive father, Damex, had once held a sculpture competition.

He created the perfect statue, yet he lost.

It lost to a work that was not perfect, but was affectionate, expressive, and meticulous.

He lost to his brother.

[Is it Heracon or Andos?]
Peturabo tried to blur his memory, to make that failed experience seem like a dream.

But he is the Primarch, he has a superhuman brain, and he can master the languages ​​of the Olympians and any other civilization in a short time.

He could tell the structural properties of objects and materials just by observing them, and he had an instinctive grasp of mathematics and engineering, so how could he not remember that name?

It's Andos, not Heracon.

I smashed my own statue, and Andos's too.
Peturabo fell silent; his anger subsided, and he once again surveyed the entire palace.

The Primarch, possessing exceptional engineering talent, didn't actually need to look again; all the answers were already hidden in his anger the moment he stepped into the palace, but he simply didn't want to see them.

Now, the answer ruthlessly pierces the iceberg called reason.

[Although disordered, this palace is also a work of art, no less impressive than its own design.]
An unnamed rage flashed in Peturabo's eyes, and his left hand stiffly reached for the hammer at his waist, then stopped.

He did not smash the palace beneath his feet as he had smashed the statues that time.

Magnus sensed the turbulent emotions surging within Peturabo, creating a raging storm in the warp.

“Petulabo, I saw a statue of a great bird when I was a boy. It stood on the mountaintop and was perfect.”

The word "statue" immediately captured Peturabo's attention, and he looked at the one-eyed red brother who had walked up to him. Magnus, like a lecturer, began to recount: "Just as I approached it, it fell to the ground."

"Among the scattered stones, I found triangles, quadrilaterals..."

"I have discovered the ancient truths that exist in the universe, which are the origins of the five major schools of thought."

Peturabo seemed thoughtful, then said, "Is true art found in chaos?"

“Art, it should be said, is not defined by order or calculation, nor is it bound by rules,” Ning Lu said with a smile.

Peturabo looked at the two Primarchs, whose figures overlapped with Andos, radiating an artistic glow.

He sealed the palace, along with the statues he remembered, deep in his mind.

Peturabo made the entire palace fade rapidly, yet being inside it felt like being in a shadow.

“We should return to the crucial matter at hand. Father sent us here to bring these short people under the empire’s control.”

“This is our mission. Art is of no help to the war, and Father would not want us to become obsessed with it.”

“I don’t think so,” Magnus said, his eyes gleaming. “What’s more important than getting them to join the Empire is their knowledge, their culture.”

“As long as it doesn’t affect the progress, the Emperor won’t care about our actions. His ruler loves culture and art and hasn’t offended him,” Ninglu said with a smile.

"Among his collections, the Mona Lisa and Van Gogh's sunflowers are worth seeing, and he would certainly allow you to visit his prized collection."

Peturabo's eyes lit up for a moment, but he decided not to continue the topic.

This was partly because he felt it wasn't the right time, and partly because he didn't want to continue discussing art with his children around.

He did not believe that his understanding in this area was inferior to that of Nimrod and Magnus, but his understanding of irrational art had not yet reached a level that satisfied him.

There's nothing that can't be analyzed; I just need a little time...

Yes, just a little bit of time.
“Good.” Ninglu’s eyes were deep. The Primarch had already keenly sensed that his artistic “taste” had earned Peturabo’s respect.

Peturab clearly wanted to change the subject first; bringing up his design topic again now would make him think I was exploiting his artistic weaknesses.

Given his personality, he would do everything in his power to prove himself, even designing a palace model, but he would harbor resentment towards me.

I should know when to stop. Wait until he has passed a series of tests and accepts me as his friend, then I can capitalize on his desire for recognition and praise, offer appropriate compliments, and obtain all his architectural works of art.
Ning Lu thought of this and continued:
"The War Council begins."

After taking his seat, Peturabo remained silent, like a statue. Magnus then asked Nimrod:
“Ninlu, you have been fighting the Skots for some time now, and I think you already have a plan for the upcoming war.”

“That’s right,” Nimrod said calmly, meeting Peturabo’s scrutinizing gaze. “I have examined the report submitted by your diplomatic envoy, Apophis.”

Ninglu knew that Apophis was the strongest psychic among the "Thousand Sons" and that he would become the future head of the "Sky Owl School" temple.

He, along with Azek Ahriman and Hathor, were among Magnus's key protégés and candidates for company commander.

Sending Apophis demonstrates Magnus's high regard for the matter, but unfortunately, the space dwarves are resolute.

Furthermore, the negotiation process suggests that there is a being engaging in a spiritual confrontation with Apophis.

(End of this chapter)