Xi raised the corners of his mouth slightly, revealing a scornful smile, looking at Jianqi who was disguised as a beautiful girl in front of him, his eyes full of disdain.

"Hahahaha! What's that? You're not going to fulfill the Emperor's unfulfilled promise and announce my existence to the real universe, are you?"

Tzeentch burst into laughter again. He was always full of curiosity and joy about new and unknown changes.

In its view, anything that breaks the rules and causes chaos can bring it endless fun and power.

"It is not Mortarion that matters, but his Numerology. If Mortarion remains loyal, I will make Mortarion's Numerology the Imperial Credentials."

Xi's voice suddenly became serious, and he spoke word by word.

Her words were like a hammer, hitting Tzeentch's heart.

Upon hearing these words, Jianqi, who had been smiling playfully, suddenly changed his expression.

There was a hint of shock and confusion in those blue eyes. Obviously, he did not expect Xi to put forward such a condition.

Before Tzeentch could react, Xi continued:

"For the next ten thousand years, Mortarion's Numerology will become the empire's national policy. As long as the empire stands, humanity will forever use Numerology."

Her voice was firm and powerful, as if she was declaring an unchangeable fact to Tzeentch.

The interests involved became clear to Jianqi after a little thought.

If what Xi said is true, then the Primarch Mortarion is no longer indispensable to Him.

After all, in Tzeentch's eyes, the Primarch can only serve as a capital to show off to other evil gods.

Tzeentch racked his brains but couldn't think of a reason to refuse.

Now, under the leadership of the Emperor and the Regent, it seems only a matter of time before the Imperium of Man ascends to dominance of the universe.

If such a powerful empire took numerical theorem as its guiding principle, its influence can be imagined.

Once this comes true, he will surely become the most powerful evil god in the subspace in the future.

Tzeentch could also guess Xi's intention, which was simply to tie it to the chariot of the empire and fuel the development of the empire.

But what's the harm?

The price he paid was only to bring Mortarion back to the Imperial camp.

Moreover, as the founder of Numerology, Mortarion must not fall into the hands of Nurgle, the plague pig.

Otherwise, this exquisite mathematical theorem will be infected by Nurgle's corruption and plague and become a tool of Nurgle, which is a situation that Tzeentch absolutely does not want to see.

PS: Please, give me some.

Chapter 199 The Twisted Mortarion

"Hmph, is this what that high and mighty person calls a reward? What does she think I paid so much for? Just for this mere fan?" Mortarion felt awkward, with joy and resentment fighting fiercely in his heart.

The Lord of Death held the fan made of azure feathers in his hand. Although his mouth was full of disgust, his hands moved very gently, as if he was holding a rare treasure.

Typhon, standing by, gazed longingly at the fan, his eyes filled with desire. "Sir, this is a reward for our efforts to liberate humanity. It's precisely because we've sacrificed so much that the Regent has to show some appreciation, isn't it?"

Mortarion's expression froze upon hearing this. He spoke in a deep voice, "Typhon, we sacrifice everything, not to gain some reward from that manipulative regent of Terra. We sacrifice everything for those who, like the people of Barbarus, have been enslaved by tyrants. We want to free them from oppression."

As he spoke, Mortarion tightened his grip on the fan, his knuckles turning white from the exertion.

Typhon warned, "My lord, this fan is a weapon specifically designed to enhance the abilities of psykers... You cannot use it."

Mortarion breathed in the poisonous gas from Barbarus rapidly, his emotions becoming increasingly agitated:

"That power-seeker on Terra always fancies herself the mother of the Primarchs, feigning affection and care, but all she truly covets is the power to control the Imperium. She offers these rewards simply to buy people's hearts."

Typhon fell silent.

Ever since that last apparent loss of control, Mortarion's prejudice against psykers has only deepened.

He himself was strictly forbidden by Mortarion to use psionic powers.

But the fan sent by the Regent is indeed a rare treasure. When Typhon himself gets close to it, he can clearly feel the active spiritual energy in his body.

A subtle cunning glint flashed in Typhon's eyes, the corners of his mouth curled up slightly, and he said in a seemingly sincere tone:

"But sir, we can't really throw away this gift from His Majesty the Regent. If it's left unused, it will be embarrassing for both us and Terra. In my opinion, someone has to use it."

Mortarion was in a rage at this time, his chest heaving violently and his breathing as rapid as a bellows.

The Lord of Death knew that what Typhon said made sense, but he couldn't find any words to refute it.

After a moment's silence, he gritted his teeth and said in a resounding voice, "I will carry this fan myself. At least we must let our foolish regent know that we are pursuing immortal achievements and monuments, not just this fan of hers."

Typhon remained respectful on the surface, nodding slightly, but his hands hidden in the dark unconsciously clenched, his nails almost digging into his palms.

He was filled with anger, thinking: Why would Mortarion refuse to give him this fan? He was a true psyker, and Mortarion not only avoided psykers himself, but also strictly prohibited others from using them.

Typhon could only watch as Mortarion carefully placed the fan inside his armor, as if guarding something vital, which made Typhon's jealousy burn even more fiercely.

Typhon took a deep breath, quickly adjusted his mood, and put on a humble smile again on his face. He said:

"Sir, just now, the Lord of Five Hundred Worlds has invited us. We hope that you can work with him and the other Primarchs to establish schools on their respective planets and recruit talents from all walks of life to avoid burying those with potential."

Upon hearing this, Mortarion's face showed an expression of disbelief. He widened his eyes and asked, "Are you sure it's that Guilliman?"

Typhon bowed his head respectfully and replied, "Yes, my lord, it is absolutely true."

Mortarion sneered, his words thick with sarcasm. "Hmph, he, the Lord of the Five Hundred Worlds, has finally stopped writing to me, gushing endlessly about his homeland, Macragge, his Five Hundred Worlds, and the wonderfulness of his so-called adoptive parents."

"Every time I read his letters, I feel like he's a natural-born aristocrat, showing off his wealth in front of someone like me who comes from a poor background."

The Lord of Death's voice was filled with resentment, and it was not difficult to hear his complex emotions towards Guilliman.

Typhon was keenly aware of Mortarion's jealousy of Guilliman, and he felt inexplicably happy.

The company commander asked tentatively, "Then we won't cooperate with him?"

Mortarion denied it without hesitation:

"No, we should agree to his request. It is undeniable that Guilliman's system does have its merits, and the planets we liberated do indeed need the local people to truly become self-reliant and strong."

Typhon quickly responded, "Then I'll do it right away."

At this moment, he couldn't wait to leave this depressing place. Every moment with Mortarion made him feel tortured.

Just as Typhon turned to leave, Mortarion suddenly stopped him: "When it was done, it was said that it was Guilliman's suggestion, understand?"

Typhon paused, then turned back and replied, "Okay."

Then he quickly walked out of the room, finally getting rid of Mortarion's suffocating aura and breathing a sigh of relief.

In the room, light and shadows danced freely on the walls, stretching Mortarion's tall figure.

With Typhon's departure, the Lord of Death was left alone in this space. The silence was so oppressive that it seemed as if even the air had frozen.

Mortarion slowly raised his hand and reached towards the inside of the armor. His movements were gentle but a little hesitant, as if he was touching a forbidden object.

After a moment, he carefully took out the fan made of azure feathers.

The Primarch's fingers trembled slightly as he slowly stroked the fan. The delicate touch coming from his fingertips failed to calm the turmoil in his heart.

His eyes were fixed on the fan, a mixture of anger, confusion and helplessness in his eyes.

"Why did you give me the fan?" Mortarion suddenly asked, his voice echoing in the empty room, with a hint of questioning.

"You should know that I hate psychic powers the most!"

The Primarch's tone gradually rose, and his emotions became more and more excited.

"Even a monument with the names of the soldiers engraved on it would be fine!"

At this moment, the Primarch was no longer the cold and majestic Lord of Death, but more like a crying child, venting his inner dissatisfaction to a fan in this empty room.

The face of the Regent involuntarily emerged in Mortarion's mind. That smile, which seemed kind but concealed ulterior motives, made him feel disgusted.

He didn't understand why the Regent would send such a gift that contradicted his ideals. Was it a deliberate provocation, or was there a deeper meaning? In his opinion, compared to this fan that enhanced psychic power, a monument engraved with the sacrifice and glory of the warriors was the true recognition of their efforts.

Mortarion's breathing became rapid, and his hand gripping the fan became tighter, his knuckles turning white from the strain.

This fan carries the Regent's "heart" and is an existence that cannot be ignored.

He just stood there blankly, staring at the fan, as if they were engaged in a silent contest, and the atmosphere in the room became increasingly solemn.

PS: Give me some!

Chapter 200 Awakening the Primarch's Strength

In the vast Milky Way, Ran Dan has been blocked in the northwest direction for forty-five years.

The once brilliant Halo Star Cluster has now become the main battlefield for the fierce battle between Randan and humans.

The ongoing war raged relentlessly, and this star cluster had been devastated, making it difficult for even Ran Dan to survive.

The atmosphere in the command room was depressing and heavy.

Aurora sat in front of a desk piled with documents. Her face looked haggard and her dry hair lifelessly fell on both sides of her cheeks.

As she mechanically processed the pile of documents in her hands, she couldn't help but curse under her breath: "Ahem, how could there be so many Ran Dan? The four legions of the empire launched a full attack, fighting desperately for forty-five years and nine months, and a full thirty Titan legions were wiped out just like that..."

Long-term fatigue and tremendous pressure made her voice hoarse and tired.

Hui Le and the others had been in charge of heavy logistical work for a long time and were extremely nervous. They really needed to relax, so they went to the front line of the battlefield and tried to find a moment of respite in the war-torn environment.

Brightman hurried forward with a serious look on his face to report his work: "Mother."

The legion commander's voice was filled with trepidation. "Just now, Master Mori-sama has destroyed ten more Titan legions."

Upon hearing the news, Aurora felt her brain buzz as if it had been hit hard by a heavy hammer.

In an instant, everything went dark and the whole world seemed to be spinning.

The Primarch calmed himself and roared angrily, "God damn it, Jonson! You're such a traitor! The Titan Legion is such a precious fighting force! Can't you use it sparingly?"

Aurora's eyes were bloodshot, she hadn't slept for dozens of days.

After venting her emotions, Aurora turned eagerly to look at her offspring and asked, "What about Jonson's battle results?"

There was a hint of anticipation in the Primarch's eyes, hoping that Jonson's actions would bring some gratifying results.

Brightman paused, then continued, "Twenty-two Randan mainships were successfully destroyed, and all the Randan stationed on all planets in the Halo sector were annihilated."

After hearing this, Aurora's tense nerves finally relaxed a little. She breathed a sigh of relief and said, "That's not bad. At least it paid off."

The war commander leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes, and silently thought about the next strategic deployment in his mind. It was unknown when this long and arduous war would usher in a true victory.

…………

In the vast space, the Calixis sector is like a silent sea of ​​darkness, and the faint light of the stars appears particularly faint against this deep background.

The entire Eleventh Primarch has been lurking here silently, hunting countless times, patiently waiting for the perfect opportunity to fight.

Finally, a lone Randan fleet slowly sailed into this star area.

It is like a lone beast that has strayed into the territory of a wolf pack, unaware that danger has already arrived.

The moment he sensed the target's appearance, Hui Le's spiritual energy surged, and he instantly transformed into an endlessly flying thunderbird emitting thunder all over his body.

The flash of lightning illuminated the dark space as bright as day.

It carried Lario and Vera with it, and rushed towards the main ship of the Randan fleet like a white lightning at a terrifying speed that was almost beyond imagination.

In an instant, endless thunder accompanied by the high-pitched roar of thunderbirds, like a raging tsunami, completely buried the Ran Dan flagship.

The sound was deafening, as if it could tear apart the barriers of the universe.

The surrounding Randan warships were caught off guard by the sudden attack. After reacting, they immediately turned all their firepower towards the Thunderbird that was wreaking havoc on the main ship.

However, this intensive artillery attack was like a drop in the ocean and had no effect.

The psychic lightning emanating from the Thunderbird's body seemed to have life, actively facing the incoming weapons attacks.

Anything touched by lightning, whether it is a cannonball or an energy beam, will be instantly destroyed and turned into a wisp of dust in the universe.

In just a moment, the originally huge and sturdy Ran Dan flagship was reduced to wreckage.

The hull was completely destroyed by psychic lightning, the metal was twisted and deformed, and thick smoke was billowing.

The commanders on the ship didn't even have a chance to struggle under the violent force of thunder. They were smashed to pieces and dissipated into the vast universe.

Shocked by the instant destruction of the main ship, the secondary and auxiliary ships of the Ran Dan fleet fell into extreme panic.

Sharp alarms blared wildly in the warships, and lights flickered, reflecting the frightened and confused faces of the Randan crew.

Lario and Vera jumped off Huile, who had transformed into a thunderbird, and powerful psychic energy also surged around them.

Lareo quickly formed seals with her hands, and in an instant, an invisible psychic barrier quickly spread out with her as the center, covering several nearby auxiliary ships that were trying to escape.

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