Warhammer: In the Name of Nirvana

"Makado?"

"Who cares about Malcador?"

"He is just a tool, a precision instrument installed at the fingertips of our father. He rarely has a thought of his own: his mission as an individual is to be a lucky man with some ability, hard work and hard work, chosen by the Emperor. In order to serve as his invisible third hand, he uses countless invisible ways to make profits for the great cause of all mankind.”

"For Malcador, we don't even need to mention the issue of rewards or benefits: to be able to participate in such a great plan, to be a loyal servant of the Supreme Being, and to have a small and small one of his own among all the historical documents. But a firm seat is already a supreme reward in itself, what else can he ask for? "

"How many heroes have fought their whole lives to leave a few words in the history books? What Malcador has achieved is far better than them, even better than his own ability and magnanimity: as an undoubted mortal, he can compete with us. Being equal to demigods is in itself the reward of Malcador's luck, loyalty and ability."

"I guess in your words, the importance of these three attributes is in descending order."

"For him: it is."

Horus smiled.

"He's lucky that he has the opportunity to show his loyalty: ability is the last thing."

The smoke of war lingered on the lips and teeth of the Shepherd God, unwilling to leave for a long time, even though he had been away from the Urano front line for some time, even if he chose to put aside the fatigue caused by the war, and fight for revenge with the blood brother he admired most. Wandering in the corridors of the Soul, he smiled at each other's similar and different views, but he still couldn't wave his hand to erase the real-time impact of the long war on him.

It seems like everything was just yesterday.

Goron, Ullanor, the Emperor, the Orc King and Jonson, Dorn, Abaddon, or Sigismund: thousands of names and words, useful and useless, let him Those that pleased him and those that made him anxious, those worth thinking about and those that needed to be ignored: the vast number of concepts were like a large group of snakes in estrus, mating together wantonly, mixed into a big squirming mass in his mind. The entangled heart made the original gene feel more bored than ever before.

When he thought that his dear genetic father was about to leave him: this time could already be counted in the sky, Horus felt a splitting headache: all the wars in the past hundred years had brought him The pain is far less than the glory that is right in front of Ullano now, this damn supreme glory!

It brings pain!

The Wolf Shepherd considered himself to be someone who was never good at enduring pain. The one who liked to endure suffering for no reason was his troublesome brother Mortarion. Privately, Horus did not agree with Mortarion. In terms of perspective, he prefers to choose dexterous avoidance: avoiding the immediate dilemma by avoiding talking about it, leaving sufficient time to think about the solution: and then trying to turn the tide before it is too late.

This is true for the original body, and so is the Luna Wolf Legion under his command. This can be seen from the assault division and gang-hopping beheading tactics that the 16th Legion is best at: when the war situation becomes extremely chaotic, At that time, what solution is more effective than a successful surprise beheading?

The Shadow Moon Wolf Legion was born for this kind of big scene that can change the entire situation of the war in an instant.

Of course, Horus had heard rumors like this: someone in the invisible shadows accused his Luna Wolf Legion of robbing all the glory, and would use other brother troops as shields or even cannon fodder for the sake of peace. His own offensive opened up space, and he did so at the expense of other lives.

The Shepherd God was too lazy to face these ridiculous words. He admitted that when he led various legions to fight together, he would unconsciously favor the Luna Wolves: What father would not favor his son, but the shield or cannon fodder? Allegations like this are a bit too far-fetched.

In a simple sentence: All Primarchs and Astartes are not fools. If Horus is really crazy enough to dare to use his brother legions as shields or cannon fodder, especially the latter, then his behavior is not It may not be exposed, but one exposure is enough to offend an entire legion: If this is the case, how did the Wolf Shepherd's generally good reputation in the Great Crusade come about?

These miserable mortals were not even good at slandering him. Horus did not even believe that this was Malcador's handiwork: he did not like the Emperor's Seal Bearer, but he also admitted that this despicable villain had outstanding abilities. He would not be stupid enough to use this method against the original body.

But if Malcador secretly instructed some arrogant fools to interfere with Horus, he also removed all traces of the seal bearer himself: Horus would not reject this possibility. sex.

In short, the Wolf Shepherd God first made a mark in his heart for the person holding the seal.

He remembered!

What an unwarranted slander!

The so-called Luna Wolf Legion deliberately snatches the glory on the battlefield? The real fact is exactly the opposite: it is because those powerful enemies lurking in the smoke of the Great Crusade are really capable of confronting several legions, and even dragging the entire war into chaos, and even suppressing them in the chaos. The capabilities of the Imperial Expeditionary Force.

There are so many monsters and monsters.

Whenever the battle situation fell into such a desperate situation, the only way Horus could choose was to lead his Gastalin Guards, brave the arrows and stones, and put himself in danger to turn the tide by killing the enemy's leader.

Abaddon and his comrades never let their gene father down, even though they bled profusely: those shameless rumor spreaders only saw the glory of the Shadow Moon Wolves as the most glorious legion, but never saw countless Gastalin and Sons of Horus fall in the final battle.

But even so, they still followed Horus's footsteps one after another.

After all, who else besides them could take on such a heavy responsibility to turn the tide?

Among the brother troops that often fight together with the 16th Legion, the White Scars are graceful and flexible, but they always lack the ruthlessness to launch fatal attacks on the enemy; the Death Guard's advance is as fierce as a giant hammer, but also as slow as a giant hammer. The Emperor's Children win in perfection, but also lose in the tedious things brought by perfection. The descendants of Dorne are extremely reliable, but they have few opportunities to cooperate with the Luna Wolves.

So, when the battle situation is deadlocked, who can Horus count on?

What? You mean Sanguinius?

The battlefield with Sanguinius in charge will generally not fall into a deadlock.

If it really falls into a deadlock, it is not the scope of Gastalin's responsibility.

"After all, that's Sanguinius..."

When Horus thought of his most reliable and trusted blood brother, he felt that the nameless depression that had been lingering in his heart for many days had dissipated a lot in an instant, and a smile climbed up the corners of his mouth involuntarily, attracting strange comments from those who walked side by side with him.

"What's wrong with you, Horus?"

"Nothing, Dorn."

The wolf god coughed lightly.

"I just thought of Sanguinius: he won't be back for a few days."

"I know."

Dorn nodded.

"He doesn't seem very interested in the meeting that the Emperor will hold on Ullanor."

"Of course: our archangel brothers are allergic to documents and volumes. Flying animals may not like documents. I heard from Morgan that Conrad also has such problems, but he is better than Sanguinius. At least he is still managing his own Nostramo."

Horus blinked, and when his heart passed through the names of Morgan and Conrad, he felt his heart tighten: these two names made him feel nervous, not the kind of nervousness as an enemy, but the kind of nervousness as a comparison between brothers, hoping that he would not be left too far behind.

In the past, the wolf god with all the honors would not have such feelings, but when the glory of the Ullanor War faded, when the excitement of fighting side by side with the Emperor faded, Horus stopped and looked around, but found that everyone around him was preparing for their new era: no one cared about the Great Crusade in the past, and the topic among the Primarchs gradually shifted to their respective territories.

Even Dorn was no exception.

At the beginning of the conversation, the Lord of the Imperial Fist, under Horus's inquiry, told about his fiefdom without reservation: he obtained a large piece of land in the east and north of the Storm Segmentum with the ice world Invert as the core, bordering Terra, Vulkan, Mortarion, Corax and Angron, and would also be responsible for the defense of Terra to a large extent.

"Terra Guard."

Horus said this name.

"This suits you, Dorn. No one is more suitable to guard Terra than your Legion: the vigilant Phalanx and a whole fortress world highly reinforced by the Imperial Fists are enough to make the tide of war sweeping the galaxy recede. The Emperor's throne will be carried for ten thousand years under your protection."

"This makes me panic, Horus."

Faced with the boasting of the Wolf God, Dorn's face showed a rare hesitation.

"I will not lie to you, brother. When the Emperor told me in an occasion where only the two of us were present that he was going to entrust the defense of Holy Terra to my Legion, I felt ecstatic in my heart at the first time. The feeling of affirmation shook my mind: I wanted to think rationally, but my mouth couldn't wait to accept the Emperor's commission before my brain could give an answer."

"I can understand you."

Horus nodded sincerely.

"Who can refuse such an honor? Your performance has surpassed most people. If the Emperor gave me this honor, I would not even realize that I still need to think, or even realize that I still have a brain: what makes you panic, brother?"

"Because of the problem of ability."

Dorn narrowed his eyes, and his serious face was covered in a shadow for a moment, which made him look even more unkind. Just looking at this face would even make others forget to breathe: the seriousness of the Invit people comes from the ice and snow of his hometown, but now it is more compelling than the ice and snow itself.

"Until today, I have been thinking about whether the Imperial Fists can take on the responsibility of guarding Holy Terra alone: ​​when I conveyed this news to my descendants, they actually held a rare cocktail party to celebrate the high status of the Legion in the heart of the Emperor. No one can understand my thoughts."

"But you can't blame them."

Horus lowered his eyebrows. He was a little absent-minded about Dorne's answer. No one knew what the wolf god was thinking about at this time.

"And as far as I know, you are not the only one who has taken on such an important responsibility. The ones designated by the Emperor as the Shield of Terra are the four nearby legions, and the Imperial Fists are the leaders among them. You don't need to take all the responsibility on yourself. shoulders, and in addition to our brothers, the Custodes and Mortal forces of Terra can be expected.”

"The same goes for our brothers: although Jonson prefers to lead his main forces on expeditions rather than defending the territory, Ferrus also suffers from the same problem as him, and Leman Russ himself believes that he lacks refinement. But there is no doubt about their loyalty and ability.”

"They're worth looking forward to, too."

"You can look forward to it."

Dorn nodded, but the meaning in his words was obviously the opposite.

"But it can't be relied upon."

"As a Terran Guard, I have to be prepared for everyone to be my enemy."

"Including me?"

The words of the Lord of the Imperial Fist directly raised Horus' brows. He slowly put his hands behind his back, leaned forward, and tentatively asked Dorn: When he noticed that the Invites turned their heads to look at this, When facing him, he also gave him a smile at the right time to ease the frozen atmosphere caused by this question and answer.

Dorn was silent.

He nodded.

"Horus, I can't imagine what it would be like to be against you on the battlefield."

"But I'll be ready."

"What a no-brainer answer."

The Shepherd God chuckled, not at all angry at Dorn's straightforward offense. He just patted his brother on the shoulder and casually glanced at the shadow outside the slanted window.

"To be honest, Dorn, sometimes I really envy your ability to move."

"Take me for example. Until now, I haven't made up my mind on how to rule the huge land that my father will give me. I decided to compensate my children in due time and delegate the mortal veterans who accompanied me to the war as governors of various places, and temporarily I have set the Gothic Sector as the core of my wolf kingdom, and other than that, I haven’t had time to decide on the rest.”

"It's not just me."

"So does Sanguinius."

"I know."

Donn tilted his head: he was obviously not a blind person.

"Sanguinius' Baal enclave is a painful territory. Among the fiefdoms available to all of us, only the country that Sanguinius will rule is the most desolate, remote and barren, lacking in A prosperous civilized world with abundant natural resources, but it is close to a chaotic existence like the Maelstrom.”

"Perhaps this is the reason why our angel brother is not willing to come to Ullanor yet. He always likes to avoid these problems, as if if he closes his eyes, the problems will not exist: I am actually quite curious about what Sanguinius will do in the end. Ways to rule his kingdom, you know, Donne, he's the kind of man who can work miracles."

"I don't think there is a so-called miracle, it's just a manifestation of low probability."

"Anyway is fine."

Horus responded perfunctorily.

"Rather, when Ullanor's meeting enters the intermission period, we can gather as many of our brothers as possible and discuss our views on rule and governance among ourselves. They should not refuse: at least according to I know that many of the brothers are currently showing a strong interest in ruling."

"Governing a country is not a career that relies on interest."

"But you have to admit it, Dorn."

"When the Primarch becomes interested, it means he is close to mastery."

“That’s where our talent lies.”

Horus slowly shook his head.

"You can't be complacent about this."

"I have no objection."

"And I want to say that you should not put all your energy on Holy Terra. Don't forget that the Emperor also entrusted you with Invite. You must also think about your full-fledged power as Lord Invite. The hometown of ice and snow: Thinking about the future development of southern Terra.”

"But Terra is clearly more important."

"But you are not from Terra after all."

Horus smiled and shook his head.

"Listen to me, Dorn."

“To judge where a person belongs, don’t look at where he comes from in the first place, but where he will end up.”

"You are from Invite: but no one ends up on Terra."

"Because it belongs to mortals."

Like "I originate from Cthunia, but I will eventually return to my wolf country."

"The moment the Emperor left, I was no longer a Cthunian: so was every one of our brothers. Our final destination lies in our respective kingdoms, not in the Great Crusade. , not in that ethereal divine Terra.”

"There is no doubt that Dorne: Terra will no longer be at the forefront of everyone's mind."

"We all have our own thrones."

"That……"

Rarely, the Primarch of the Imperial Fists hesitated.

"What should Terra do?"

…

"Leave it to mortals."

"Isn't this exactly what our great genetic father wanted to see?"

"..."

Donn frowned, thinking about this question for a moment.

"Leave it completely to them?"

"How should I say..."

Horus patted his brother on the shoulder. He seemed uninterested in the question, but before he finally left, the wolf god whispered a sentence that was destined to stay in the ear of the Invit.

"You should think about this question yourself, my brother Dorne."

"Go and see for yourself."

"Go and ask for yourself."

"Go and think for yourself."

"Go and know: Are mortals really worthy of this honor and responsibility?"