Warhammer 40k: Shattered Steel Soul

Chapter 446 The Coronation of the Warmaster

Rogal Dorn stood on the hill tower surrounding the Triumphal Square, overlooking the square plain in front of him.

If the nested central square is regarded as the canopy of lush trees, then the wide parade avenue is the backbone of this artificial plain, connecting the airborne platform at the far end, connecting the Golden Square and the landing transfer station. Along the way, there are statues of guards holding golden knives standing opposite each other, separated by columns and false porches, watching the parade march of the legion.

Outside the avenue, tens of thousands of armored vehicles and hundreds of Titans overlooked all living things, which was the steel evidence left by the great victory of the war.

The square itself is based on smooth white granite at no cost, for the primarchs and their troops to be stationed.

Rogal Dorn adopted a design that covered all the roofs with gold. A large number of straight roads and circular roads did not hesitate to emphasize the grandeur of the large scale, dividing the entire plain area into orderly and regular geometric patterns. The multi-angle towering towers and circular domes were arranged between the slightly shorter golden-roofed barracks after precise calculations, and were decorated with fountains, Astartes statues and legion flags that were appropriately arranged to enhance the visual design.

Now, the morning light has just passed over the hills, and the natural light highlights the high edges of all the buildings, like the golden strokes added by the sun. The long bells played by the musicians sang melodiously, and tens of thousands of flags were unfurled in the wind, and countless emblems jumped on the flags.

On the central square platform, eleven military emblems were distributed on the ground in order, carved in a long-radius arc, facing the central golden throne, waiting for the demigods to take their positions one by one. Under the platform, the Sister of Silence silently guarded the final gathering place.

"Dark Angels, Emperor's Children, Iron Warriors, Space Wolves, Your Excellency's Imperial Fists, Blood Angels, Iron Hands, World Eaters, Ultramarines, Death Guard, Word Bearers," the clerk said, "all the Primarchs who wish to come to Ullanor have arrived at the Triumphal Square."

Rogal Dorn nodded slightly, knowing that the parade was about to begin, and he left the tower and returned to the Imperial Fists.

At the moment when the sun completely illuminated the entire square, the various legions were like colorful tides of different colors, one after another, following the direction of the sun, going deep into the parade avenue, and entering the square under the gaze of the golden armored guards with upright spears and decorative statues. Millions of mortals dressed in new clothes that best represented their identities welcomed the Astartes Legion participating in the parade.

The Memoirists whispered, excitedly telling the legends of each legion, and after the parade of their legions ended, some Astartes still chose to stand in their own squares, while others went to find their old friends among their cousins ​​to talk about everything they cared about.

Rogal Dorn nodded slightly to his Primarch's captain, and then continued to walk forward and merge with his brothers.

He saw Lion and Russ reluctantly infusing each other with the power of the Primarch in a handshake, and Fulgrim smiled at him briefly, his eyes mainly focused on the marching troops. Rogal Dorn nodded to the Imperial Phoenix, found Perturabo standing alone facing the dais, and stood beside him.

"We told them that Horus was accidentally poisoned in the last battle of Ullanor." Rogal Dorn said softly, "Lion El'Jonson didn't believe it."

"No one will believe it. The only thing that can be confirmed is that Horus will return one day and return to us." Perturabo said calmly that they could not announce the theft of the Shadow Prison and the assassination of the Dark Gods.

Then Perturabo saw Sanguinius approaching them with a pair of radiant wings on his back. On his fair and noble cheeks were a pair of tears dotted with ash, and the ornaments on his wings were replaced with black and red pendants and thin silver chains.

Sanguinius embraced him and Dorn sincerely, wrapping his wings around them briefly before letting go.

"I heard about Horus's injury," Sanguinius said softly and sadly, with a deeper worry in his clear eyes than the fact they had made public could arouse. "Please tell me, is he really unable to wake up? Have his descendants... done anything panic-stricken?"

"The Emperor himself treated him, my brother," Perturabo said forcefully. "Now he is sleeping on the Emperor's flagship, under strict protection. He will wake up on Terra, and there is hope for that day."

Sanguinius closed his eyes and put away the worry he showed. "I believe your word, Perturabo."

"And you too, Rogal Dorn," the Archangel said, turning his head to Dorn, before gently pulling away and joining Fulgrim. The two most beautiful angels in the Imperium of Man stood side by side, sharing their hearts.

Soon after, Ferrus Manus strode over and shook Perturabo's hand crisply, the Iron Lord reflected in his silver eyes. He said nothing more than a greeting, but his meaning was clearly conveyed in the silent handshake. Afterwards, he also joined Fulgrim.

Angron arrived and said simply, "Is this part of the ceremony?"

"What do you mean?" Rogal Dorn, the chief architect of the ceremony, asked puzzledly.

"Let's say hello to Perturabo first." Angron smiled like a warrior, hugged them, and simply stood beside them, lowering his voice: "Will we have a chance to see Horus later?"

"He has fallen into a coma," Dorn replied, "For safety reasons, his door is guarded by the guards."

"You can't convince Valdor?"

"Constantine is not here," said Dorn.

Angron shrugged, his sensitive spirits heightened by the sea of ​​cheers. He nodded and grinned at Khârn in the crowd, who shook his head solemnly. Dorn wondered if Angron wanted the legion commander to come as well.

Roboute Guilliman was as neatly dressed as ever, wearing a wreath of green leaves and a Macragge-style ruling robe. Perhaps influenced by the previous few people, he also came to greet Perturabo and wished the Olympia Cluster prosperity.

"Your governance of your homeland is also worth learning," said Robert solemnly.

"We all have our own ways," Perturabo replied.

Then, Roboute Guilliman looked around, thinking, and finally chose to go to Sanguinius and stand with Ferrus.

When Lion El'Jonson finished his fight with Russ and came to Sanguinius - because it was far from Russ, Guilliman's feet moved on the mirror-like granite, with his toes pointed outwards inconspicuously. When Fulgrim and Ferrus walked to Perturabo, talking and laughing, Guilliman's smile became a little reluctant.

Mortarion took off his respirator, which was very rare, and let it hang on his chest like an ornament, revealing his pale and dry face. The respirator and some hanging bottles and jars collided with each other, making crisp sounds.

"Perturabo," his expression was a little tense, perhaps this was the disadvantage of suddenly exposing the face that had been hidden under the half-mask for many years. "I didn't see Magnus and Horus."

"Magnus is on Terra, he can't get here in time; Horus - you know he was poisoned, Mortarion."

"But I believe he can find shortcuts in the warp quickly..." Mortarion murmured softly, and was silent for a few seconds, then said, "If he was injured by the poison, would Horus need my help?"

"He has been treated, all he needs is rest, you can trust the Emperor's decision, my brother." Perturabo said calmly, looking directly into Mortarion's amber yellow eyes.

Mortarion left with a heavy heart, and turned sideways when the lonely Russ tried to approach him, his eyes fixed on the steel-covered high platform, waiting for the Emperor to appear.

Lorgar Aurelion came to greet Perturabo as usual, even though they had just met in the early morning. Perturabo noticed that the Truth Bearer had just washed his hands carefully, perhaps believers always have many unique habits.

After he arrived, a trumpet suddenly sounded from the platform, and the sound swept across the entire Triumphal Square, and the whole place was suddenly in solemn silence.

The Primarchs walked up to the stage one after another and stood where their respective military emblems were engraved.

On the platform, two guards and two sisters of silence appeared and stood beside the golden throne. Then, the Imperial Chancellor Malcador personally walked up to the platform holding a large gilded acacia wood box, which was decorated with the Empire's eagle emblem and a pair of angels with intertwined wings.

When the Lord of Mankind appeared, the entire Triumphal Square fell into a wave of cheers of celebration. The powerful power and glory took away everyone's spirit and perception. The thorough power washed away the distractions of all beings in the rumbling bell-like shock. Thousands of hearts were subdued by the only Lord of All Lords, looking up at this eternal and immortal brilliant light.

The Emperor was shrouded in the majestic golden glory, sitting on the huge golden throne on the platform, overlooking his people.

Then, he raised his hand slightly, and the square was instantly silent.

"My sons, today, you have seen the end of this two hundred years of long expedition. We have experienced wind and frost, stepped on thorns, defeated the enemy, and ushered in today's great victory. You are all the pillars of the empire. Your wisdom and courage have enabled us to overcome many dangers and obstacles. The war will end and the country will be peaceful. I am very comforted.

"Since the founding of our empire, we have never had such a brilliant record, nor such a solid foundation. The prosperity of our country depends on your loyalty. Your name will be engraved in the long scroll of history, and your achievements will be praised by future generations.

"However, now I will return to Terra, and I must entrust the fate of the Empire's armies to the best of you, hoping that he can uphold justice, implement benevolent policies, and lead the light. I know that you are all loyal and brave, but this burden is not something that ordinary people can bear: you need wisdom as a lamp, courage as a shield, as strong as steel, and as unshakable as a rock.

"Now I ask you: Who is willing to step forward and take on the responsibility of leadership? Who can stand here, show extraordinary wisdom and courage, receive my military orders, and control the fate of all armies?

"The enemies on all sides have not fled far, waiting for an opportunity to move, wanting to disturb my peace and destroy the prosperity of the country. We still need to watch. Don't slack off, and be vigilant.

"May God bless mankind and let all of us enjoy peace forever. May the light stay forever and the sky and rivers be peaceful forever. "

The venue was still silent. Then, Lorgar Aurelion stepped forward, his white robe shining like light, his golden skin shining, and his voice resounding.

"I came here not to ask for this honor, but to recommend the Primarch of the Iron Warriors, Perturabo of Olympia. This is the commander of the ever-victorious army and the king of the ideal country. He has never lost a battle and no one is dissatisfied with him wherever he goes. His military exploits are always with him, and the well-being of the people also depends on his wisdom.

"He enforces the law with a fair hand and treats the people with a benevolent heart, which is deeply loved by the people. He has a sense of justice and always thinks of the welfare of the empire. He makes decisive decisions and has a broad vision. He can plan and resolve crises in complex situations. His army is disciplined, morale is high, and he is invincible. He can be called the backbone of the empire.

"If we are led by this man, we will continue to shine and protect the Holy Land. I hope you will learn from me, recognize Perturabo's outstanding talents, and nominate him as our leader."

The Emperor's eyes swept over everyone one by one: "Does anyone else have opinions?"

Unexpectedly, Lion El'Jonson came forward second, leaning towards the Emperor, his voice as deep as thunder.

"Among all the people present, only Perturabo's prestige can convince everyone and make us all obey his orders. At this critical moment, only the one who is popular can stabilize the situation and unite the troops. I hope you will join us in this great cause and nominate him as our leader."

Dorn noticed that Perturabo was looking at the two brothers who came forward. The Iron Lord's expression became more and more calm and difficult to discern. Only those who were most familiar with him could perceive that there seemed to be an unspeakable worry in it.

The third person to speak was Archangel Sanguinius. His voice made millions of people feel like they were bathed in the breeze, and they were intoxicated by the elegance and holiness in it.

"Although I am not that familiar with Perturabo, I can be sure of one thing - no matter where I am, I can always hear good things about him. Whether it is the soldiers or the civilians, when they mention Perturabo, they all praise him. His political achievements are obvious to all, and his leadership is well-known.

"You can see that I am not here to recommend my closest friend. I am here to recommend a truly capable person. I have seen his political achievements and heard others' praise, which is enough for me to trust him. He is a good doer, and now, among the brothers here, I believe that Perturabo is the most suitable candidate."

After speaking, Sanguinius smiled and bowed to the Emperor, his bright eyes sincerely looking at the Lord of Mankind on the Golden Throne.

The Emperor's eyes were locked on Perturabo.

The Iron Lord stepped forward, putting away any extra emotions, and his face was only as solemn as iron.

He bowed to the Emperor: "I am deeply honored by your kindness. I will remember this recommendation in my heart. This is a great responsibility, but if I receive this honor, I will take on this responsibility and do my best. I will never betray your trust. "

The Emperor stood up from the throne and spoke slowly: "Perturabo, I am well aware of your loyalty and talent. Since there are many recommendations, I also think you are the right choice for this important task. However, major national affairs require the consensus of everyone before they can be implemented."

He paused, glanced at everyone, and said in a sonorous and powerful voice: "Now I ask you, who still has objections? If there are objections, speak up quickly. If not, I will appoint Perturabo as the commander of all armies, lead the troops and take orders to suppress this world. "

The Emperor's voice echoed in the square, and everyone was silent for a moment, looking at each other, as if waiting for someone to speak first.

Rogal Dorn took the lead and knelt on one knee, saying solemnly: "I am willing to follow his leadership and protect the empire together. "

Then, more people knelt or bowed according to the size of the open space around them, and performed the Sky Eagle Salute at the same time, supporting in unison: "We have no objection!"

The emperor nodded, with a satisfied smile on his face: "Since everyone has no objection, I officially appoint Perturabo as the warmaster. Perturabo, I hope you will live up to everyone's expectations. "

Malcador walked to the Emperor's side, and the Emperor opened the wooden box and took out a golden laurel wreath.

It was simple in shape, shining solemnly under the brilliant golden light. In the ancient times when human civilization was still young, people used wreaths or branches to praise leaders. As time passed, the laurel wreath witnessed the development and glory of human history, and carried countless legends and glory.

Now, the Emperor gave it to the next commander of the largest army ever seen in the galaxy.

Perturabo knelt on one knee before the Emperor, and the great Emperor gently placed the laurel wreath on Perturabo's head, then reached out and helped Perturabo up.

"I believe you," said the Emperor, "my son, my war commander. "

Perturabo stood up, and millions of soldiers seemed to have just recognized the true appearance of the Lord of Iron: a faint glow surrounded him, strengthening every solid outline of his body. He was like stone and iron, indestructible. The existence of the Lord of Iron itself was an insurmountable barrier, inspiring awe and trust.

"I swear by this crown, I will not fail my mission." Perturabo vowed.

In the crowd, someone shouted with all his strength.

"War Marshal!"

In an instant, the shouts piled up and went straight to the sky.

"War Marshal! War Marshal! War Marshal! "

A smile appeared on the Emperor's face, and Perturabo responded with a resolute solemnity.

Countless pens were swiping on data boards and parchment, and the flags of the Iron Warriors were raised on the tower, fluttering in the wind. From this moment on, countless legends and ballads will spread across the galaxy, accompanied by the glory of the Astronomican, shining brightly in future history.

——

Lorgar Aurelion dismissed the new chief priest of Halhabait, Layak, and walked alone into the empty Wanderer's Temple in the middle of the night.

The glorious scene of today still surged in his heart, and he was in the long He walked slowly along the red carpet, his mood gradually returning to peace. This was conducive to the meditation and self-examination that followed.

He lit the candles in the sanctuary, then washed his hands with water and picked up the whip. Then, he took off his outer robe, knelt before the image of the Emperor, bowed his head, and swung the long whip.

The whip, which was made up of multiple leather strips with small metal balls at the end of the leather strips, lashed his back. He trembled and spared no effort to feel the pain of the whip.

"I confess my mistakes, confess my blindness and stupidity, confess my indulgence in verbal flattery, confess my trust in others," he whispered.

"Horus Lupercal, I wish you to be healed and healed. Emperor, have mercy on me according to your loving kindness, and blot out my transgressions according to your abundant mercy."

As he did every day, he first whipped himself thirteen times. Because Perturabo was crowned today, he whipped himself three more times, for the Father, the Son, and the Spirit.

Then, he leaned over to pray and meditate.

After a long time, he slowly stood up, put on his robe again, washed his bloody hands with water again, put down his whip, and picked up a simple straight short knife.

He walked to the back of the altar, pushed open a wooden door, lit a small lamp, and walked into the dark space behind.

In the punishment room, the former chief priest Erebus was fixed on the wooden frame. He was awakened by Lorgar's footsteps, and panic appeared in his turbid eyes.

Lorgar hung the lantern on the rack, and the light illuminated Erebus's figure. His arms had been cut off, and his legs were nailed together like the tail of a snake. In his mouth, which had lost his lips and most of his teeth, his tongue, which had been cut into a snake's tongue, was looming.

"'The serpent is the most cunning of all the beasts He created.' You used this cunning means to deceive your compatriots and seduce innocent people, leading them to the path of sin. You also used this clever deception to deceive me, thinking that I still couldn't see your ambition and intended to make me fall into further sin. 'You will be cursed if you do this.'"

The man with the truth brushed the blade with his freshly washed fingers, looked at the prisoner in front of him, and sighed: "How much more pain will it take for your sins to be fully paid?"