The Bizarre Adventure of the Warhammer Guard

The day of the victory parade arrived. The sky over Terra was illuminated by dazzling holographic projections, and cannon salutes and hymns resounded around the palace.

Today, millions of ordinary people put down their work and their worries about foreign enemies to gather on both sides of the march route.

They waved banners bearing the insignia of their respective chapters, chanting the names of the valiant Space Marines and singing in unison the great achievements of the Lord of Mankind.

Screens on both sides of the street displayed images of all the Space Marines of the Final Wall, as well as their legendary exploits of defeating the Orks.

In the distance, servo skulls, flying everywhere and carrying amplification equipment, continuously sang hymns praising the emperor and the empire.

Then, the parade began. As the parent organization, the Imperial Fist Chapter was at the very front of the procession, while Kurland walked at the very front of the square formation.

At the High Lord's request, he donned brand-new power armor, removed his helmet to reveal his face, and donned a laurel wreath.

Behind him was a makeshift square of soldiers from other chapters, forced to wear Imperial Fist paint schemes, marching in unison but with their eyes downcast.

A frenzied cheer erupted from the crowd, the sound hitting Kurland. He had never seen anything like it before, but his expression was complicated, and he felt ashamed.

The truth about the near annihilation of the warband was buried, and the sacrifice of the brothers was not celebrated.

He was somewhat envious of the other brothers behind him; at least they were all wearing helmets, so no one could see their faces.

As the procession passed the reviewing stand, Lord Udo gave him a slight nod and a smile. Kurland didn't want to guess the High Lord's meaning; he just wanted the parade to end as quickly as possible.

Time passed slowly, and the cheers of the crowd gradually subsided. Kurland entered the ceremony hall, where he reaffirmed his allegiance and was officially appointed as the new Chapter Master of the Imperial Fist.

After the ceremony, the High Lords and representatives of the Space Marines were led into an adjacent reception room for an endless banquet.

Lord Udo began with a passionate speech, which lasted for almost an hour.

From the empire's strength and prosperity to the empire's enemies' stupidity and ignorance, it involves all aspects, but there is only one core: "winning".

Kurland had no interest in listening to the High Lord's speech; his thoughts were already on the Empire's current crisis, and he was pondering how to resolve these dangers.

Immediately afterward, the speech ended, and countless delicacies were served on the table. These were indeed very delicious, and many dignitaries lingered among them.

Kurland, however, didn't feel anything. He could clearly tell what ingredients were used in the food, but he didn't find it delicious. He just felt that it contained too little energy and that he would rather have a protein bar.

At this banquet, Kurland was the star of the show, surrounded by a constant stream of dignitaries and nobles.

These politically astute officials spoke words befitting their status and position; those of lower rank flattered Kurland, while those of higher rank were overly attentive to him.

Of the twelve supreme officials, apart from the Ministry of Justice, the Tribunal, and the Assassin's Court, the others harbored some degree of criticism and suppression towards Kurland.

When dealing with these people, Kurland always listened to them politely, never answering their questions in detail, but simply insisting that he had no say in the policies of the High Lords of the Empire, and that he had no intention of turning the assembled Astartes into political bargaining chips.

"I am merely the Emperor's servant and have no right to interfere with the Emperor's decisions," Kurland repeated this sentence over and over again.

The banquet was drawing to a close, and officials of all ranks were leaving one after another. Kurland leaned against a stone pillar in the corner of the banquet hall, watching the various expressions on the faces of the people present.

Good evening, Commander.

A voice interrupted Kurland's thoughts. He instinctively looked at the other person, preparing for the endless small talk, but he froze.

The other person appeared to the side of the stone pillar. He was wearing black, close-fitting armor, and the upper half of his face was covered by shadow. Like the others, he was holding a wine glass in his hand. The only difference was that the Assassin's Court insignia was clearly visible on his chest in the dim light.

"Who are you……"

"Let me introduce myself," the other person slowly stepped out of the shadows, exposing himself completely to the light, "Drakan Wangorich, Grand Master of the Assassin's Court, one of the High Lords of Terra, but unfortunately not one of the Twelve High Lords."

"The King of Assassins?" Kurland straightened up and turned slightly to look at the Grand Master. "You are more dangerous than anyone else here."

Kurland keenly perceived the extraordinary qualities of this great master. Unlike other high lords, he possessed a calm, composed, and confident demeanor, indicating that he was truly talented.

"Thank you for your assessment, Chapter Master," Wangorich took a sip of his drink, "However, I think many of the people here are just as dangerous."

“You are different,” Kurland turned to face the Grand Master. “In battle, none of them can defeat me, but I doubt you can. You also possess political power that we don’t. So you are the most dangerous among them.”

"I think you're right, Chapter Master, I am indeed in danger." Wangorich bowed slightly to Kurland. "But I also want to tell you that I am different from those High Lords. You and I are on the same side."

"We're all on the same side," Kurland said, "while the orcs are on the other side."

As he had done countless times before, Kurland did not utter any words that would be detrimental to himself. Unsure of the Grand Master's intentions, he used plausible language to deflect further probing.

"Oh, Chapter Master, I think you've misunderstood." Wangorich spread his hands to indicate that he meant no harm. "Let's not play these word games."

"I am very good at judging people's emotions, no matter what type of person they are. This is an essential skill that allows me to serve as the High Lord of the Assassin's Court. It is clear that you are not satisfied with the actions of the High Lord of Terra, very dissatisfied."

"That's right," Kurland said bluntly. "You high lords are all responsible for my brother's death."

“You’re not the only one who thinks that way,” Wangorich said, tilting his head back and looking into the warband commander’s eyes. “We think the same way, which is why I say we’re on the same side.”

"Ah, my wine is finished," Wangorich said loudly, raising his glass before Kurland could reply. "Another busy day."

After saying that, Vangorich slowly walked away. As he passed Kurland, he said softly, "We can cooperate, but we'll have to talk about it another day."

After saying that, the senior mentor staggered away.