Warhammer: Black Emperor

Chapter 827 "I witnessed the fall of Horus," but you won't see my fall.
993.M30.

The Shadow of the Royal Power, upper deck.

The maple table that the Emperor gifted to the Capinus family has been moved to the cabin assigned to Pedronila Viva, but she has made far less progress than expected.

To date, the chronicler has not met the Primarch Nimrod in person, let alone persuaded him to accept writing his biography.

Pedronella came closest to Lord Nimrod during the period of submission to the world 33-81, but as soon as she was allowed to set foot on the surface, the Primarch's black iron bird rose up.

She remembered Huilan, the chief preacher of the 33rd Expeditionary Fleet, admonishing her.

“Ms. Capinus, my experience over the past century tells me that people like us will never have a moment of our own in this fleet.”

"I have no choice, but you do."

"You should join another expeditionary fleet and follow another Primarch."

"Won't there be a moment for me?" Petroni clutched her only possession, two photographs of that ordinary world.

"I'm not here to be a photographer."

Pedronila set the photo aside and whispered as she opened a labeled leather file bag.

Repeated use has caused slight wear and tear on the leather binding ropes.

Pedronila pulled out a thick stack of parchment, thousands of sheets.

She moistened her right hand and carefully placed the top photo.

A photo of Lord Ninglu.

Lord Ninglu was renowned, but few of his photographs survive.

The photograph in Pedronella's hand came from the sculptor who erected the statue of Lord Nimrod in the Place des Heroes; the Primarch himself had permitted him to take it.

He stood leisurely, yet exuded heroic spirit; his flawless physique was as majestic as the statue she often looked up at.

Pedronila gazed at the photograph for a long time, her eyes filled with longing.

"Petronilla, you can do it."

Her gaze shifted to the documents in her hands, and she occasionally tapped the data panel lightly with a gold-plated memory pen.

As she flipped through the documents, Petronila’s flashes of inspiration occasionally triggered the memory pen, the organic nucleus capturing the surface thoughts in her frontal lobe and displaying scattered high Gothic phrases on the screen.

That was her source of inspiration.

The Great Expedition...

Commander of the "Randan" War... Conqueror of the Xenomorphs... Destroyer of the Mito Xenomorphs... Liberator of the Collonid Abyss... Eternal Victory over the Enemy of Humanity...

Blood King...

“I embarked on this long journey from Terra, not for things that can be obtained while lying in a big bed.”

Pedronila put down the documents and looked at the data panel.

Her gaze swept over the lines of text, finally settling on "Blood King," a term used only by Terran nobles in private settings.

When she served as a senior court representative of the Capinus family, she heard dozens of Terra nobles briefly mention it, their tone revealing an undisguised fear.

Pedronila's eyes suddenly lit up. "I've got it!"

She turned the cushioned chair and pressed the call button on the edge of the table.

What are your orders?

"Barbes, I want the velvet dress, the scarlet turtleneck one."

"Yes, my lord."

Six minutes later, Petronira had changed into a velvet dress with the help of her maid.

She walked out of the suite, holding a document with a double-headed eagle watermark.

"Open the door!"

After recognizing Petroni's voice, the door slid open smoothly.

She stepped out of the cabin, and the golden eyes of the bodyguard Magad, who was standing outside, turned and looked over.

Magad's eyes were not natural; they were replaced with sophisticated and expensive prosthetic eyes by surgeons from the Capinus family to protect important members of the family.

Dressed in gold ring armor and silver chainmail, he bowed his head slightly, awaiting his mistress's instructions.

“We are going to see Arsène Dunne, Lord Nimrod’s squire.”

A moment later, in the servants' office of the Primarch Palace.

Arsène held the document in his hand, the seasoned "detective" scrutinizing the details of the paper document.

The document was handwritten by the man who held the seal, whom he had seen when he negotiated with Macado on behalf of the Black Emperor.

The sharp, short lines and the often omitted, hasty handwriting indicate that the person in charge of the seal hastily withdrew from state affairs.

The upward-flying letter trails suggest that Macardo was preoccupied, yet still made time for Capinus's court representative.

“My lord, I will convey your request for a meeting to my lord.”

Pedronella straightened her nose. "Mr. Dunn, I have one more thing to say. Please pass it on to Lord Nimrod."

"What?" The Primarch's squire stared at the colorful lips of the Capinus nobleman with his narrow blue eyes.

“I can offer Lord Nimrod a value that no one else can provide.” Pedronila rose gracefully, slinging her elegant handbag with a gold lock over her shoulder, and strode away. “She can bring me value,” Nimrod repeated with interest, leaning back on his throne.

“Yes, my lord, that’s what she said,” Arsena, with her snow-white hair, said with certainty.

Pedronila Viva.

Nimrod was no stranger to her; he remembered that she would leave Terran court after Horus became Warmaster and head to the 63rd Expeditionary Fleet.

She won Horus's favor and became his personal chronicler, writing about Horus's glorious achievements, which have been passed down through generations.

In Devon, she watched Horus fall with tears streaming down her face, and wrote the highly symbolic words: I witnessed the fall of Horus.

After Horus left the Temple of Devon, Pedronella became his confidante during his inner conflicts, recording many of his chaotic thoughts and being the only one who knew his true thoughts when he destroyed Aurelius.

Of course, Nimrod had already surpassed Orius, the Federation with its powerful forging capabilities and a complete set of independent STC templates, which contributed new power armor technology to him for the development of the Mark IV.

The Orius's lightweight solar generator, in addition to the power armor, is the other of the two STCs acquired by Horus, capable of meeting the power needs of the Epsilon-5 forge complex.

After being modified by Ryan Ramirez, it also powered the portal device, increasing the energy supply rate by 36.8%.

The technical sergeants are still conducting research on fortresses and other aspects.

The Fallen Horus would never allow anyone but himself to know what he saw and heard, what he did, and most importantly—his blueprint for the future.

In the end, Horus apologized to Pedronera and then broke her neck with his own hands.

This moment also marked that he had decided on the path he wanted to take.

Ning Lu gathered his thoughts and glanced at the hanging brass clock.

"I will meet with her at eleven o'clock."

[Miss Viva, "I witnessed the fall of Horus," but you won't see my fall.]
A flame flickered in Ning Lu's eyes as he silently pondered.

"Yes, my lord."

Ning Lu's gaze shifted to a corner of the office, where Marika's hand, which was organizing documents, trembled slightly.

He dispatched his chief pharmacist, the "Crimson Scholar" Mikel, to escort her, and Ivory Yovan, the former first medical officer of the "Solar Auxiliary Army," personally performed the surgery to save Mrs. Lemuel Gaumont's life.

To ensure he could influence Lemuel, one of the four founders of the future court, Nimrod decided to "corrupt" Marika and appointed her as his clerk.

Nimrod soon discovered that Marika loved and excelled at the work of a clerk.

He noted that Marika's comprehension and memory were comparable to those of the "readers" in some Sequence 9.

Perhaps it was because she suffered from memory disturbances during her astrocytic cancer treatment that she developed a particular fondness for mentally taxing work after her recovery.

Or perhaps it was the diluted Omega blood in the potion that strengthened her brain.

It is most likely that Ivor's extraordinary medical skills healed her while also strengthening her brain.

Of course, the duties of the Primarch Scribe are a coveted position among the Imperial nobility, hence Marika's alias was Lorraine.

[The Capinus family and the Sangha lords were both in North Africa, so Marika may have had the opportunity to meet Pejonila Viva.]

Even without having met her, the Capinus family wields immense power in Terra, especially in North Africa. If Miss Viva were to investigate diligently, she could very well uncover Lorraine's true identity.
Thinking of this, Ninglu called out to the already "corrupted" Marika.

"Lorraine".

"My lord." Marika put down her work, quickly walked to the desk, and bowed.

When she woke up, she was already on the Shadow of Royal Power.

Marika was astonished to discover that she had actually gained the attention of the Primarch himself.

She then realized that it was Lord Ninglu who had saved her.

Marika found it unbelievable; she was merely the daughter of the Sinhalese lord, the wife of Lemur, and such a great figure as the Primarch would instruct her to be saved.

She had no way to repay him, so she could only work hard and constantly check the documents to see if there was a small classification error.

“Your work is diligent and effective,” Ninglu said with a smile, looking at the nervous Marika.

"I am very satisfied."

“You should take on greater responsibility; I will appoint you as the clerk of Vostonia.”

"You should have already noticed that the documents you are currently in charge of are all already categorized. After you arrive in Vostochny, you will communicate with various departments to verify and finalize the documents."

Marika knew that Vostoria was the place where Lord Nimrod descended, the homeworld of the "Shadow of Order".

Lord Nimrod appointed her as the scribe of Vostonia, which represents his trust in her.

Marika bowed deeply, "My lord, I have no way to repay your kindness in giving me life."

"I will do my utmost to serve you."

“Arsena, you deliver this to Marika on my behalf.” Nimrod looked at the Primarch’s servant.

Arsena understood, "Yes, my lord."

As Ninglu watched Marika leave with Alsena, the prayer of Hathor Matt, the director of the "Thousand Sons" think tank, flashed through his mind not long ago.

“My lord, you commanded me to keep an eye on Lemur Gaumont, who has become the legion’s chronicler.”

"He was a friend of historian Callista Ores and architectural archaeologist Camille Chivani."

(End of this chapter)