Warhammer: In the Name of Nirvana

[Frankly speaking, Mortarion, your suggestion is indeed good. I have to admit that I am a little moved: but before that, you seem to have ignored a small problem. 】

[Magnus is my brother, my dearest relative, friend, and sibling: he is the primary advocate of the Think Tank Project, he is the master of the powerful Thousand Sons Legion, and he not only has psychic power that is equal to mine. , also enjoys countless potential followers within the Empire who may be willing to die for his cause. 】

[You want me to betray such a person without violating all the above conditions? 】

[Mortarion of Barbarus, my good brother: Is your price this time a little too low? 】

…

She was easier than he thought: or was she more greedy than he thought?

That’s all, the result is the same anyway.

The gray corridors of the Endurance are always reminiscent of the end of life: whenever a visitor enters, there will be a smell of decay and death, allowing visitors to understand the ship's destiny in advance. What kind of concept of survival does the master pursue?

Mortarion followed toughness, Mortarion believed in death, and the legions under his command followed his example, living proudly in this cold steel tomb, and learned to live with [The Breath of Barbarus] coexistence.

As a result, these cold and damp ghostly spirits roamed the corridors and rooms of the Endurance unbridled: until the gloomy footsteps of the Lord of Death echoed through the walls, all the unpleasant breaths disappeared in one fell swoop. , fled from the real master of this battleship.

If it were in the past, the sallow-faced mortal servants would also choose to flee to avoid the uncertain wrath of the Lord of Death: but it is different today. Soldiers and mortals must stand on both sides of the corridor until the original body and His most distinguished guests passed by, receiving their paltry respect and admiration.

In the eyes of thousands of fearful eyes, this team did not appear to be huge: Mortarion led the way, followed by the other two primarchs, and their seven attendants, adding up to only twenty-four people. But further behind were hundreds of servants following closely, carrying two huge metal boxes.

The Lord of Death lowered his head and strode forward, leading his subordinates and guests to the reception room that had been prepared more than ten days ago: he did not look at the road at all, just relying on the past decades. Moving forward with the physical memory he had developed, under the pale forehead, a pair of copper-colored eyes moved from time to time, with all his cunning thoughts written in them.

Mortarion wanted to laugh, he wanted to laugh loudly now and let the fire of joy in his heart shatter the darkness around him, but his strong will and the respirator that covered most of his face stopped him in time: but His breathing was still uncontrollably heavy, and the dark green poisonous aura was like a wide ribbon floating in the air, firmly tied behind his back.

This made him nervous, but fortunately, Morgan and Guilliman, who were following him, didn't seem to notice anything unusual: the two vassal kings of the Far East were whispering with their mouths and voices so low that they were almost inaudible. It looks like Morgan is interrogating Guilliman. What did he say during the meeting just now?

Guilliman said nothing.

Mortarion thought scornfully.

Without Morgan's help, the Macragge could only spit out a bunch of dry polite words, as dry as his courage: Guilliman was not worthy of attention, but Morgan's attitude gave him a huge surprise.

Looking back, the Lord of Death, who was immersed in joy, certainly didn't notice that the Spider Queen glanced at him unintentionally. He was immersed in the beauty of the negotiation going so smoothly: just a few chats after the meeting, he was solved The issue that worries me the most today.

Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine that Morgan would have such a cold attitude towards Magnus. After just thinking for a moment, he actually agreed to sacrifice the original body of the Thousand Sons: the Spider Queen was not even willing to pretend anymore and continued with him. After some haggling, she was more concerned about the [compensation] promised to her by the Lord of Death.

Seeing the smooth development of the situation, and thinking of how he had been worried and thinking hard in the past few months, Mortarion couldn't help but made another harsh note to Magnus in his heart: If it weren't for this In the past few decades, the red-haired bastard has risked his life to brag to the outside world about his long-standing and passionate friendship with Morgan. If everyone, including him, believed it, why would he bother with this simple matter? Why has the matter been entangled for so long?

This lying bastard!

The Lord of Death frowned, becoming more determined to declare war on Magnus and his witchcraft on Nicaea, but at the same time, he also knew that the matter on Morgan's side could not be left to this. Ended: As his most hostile brother, Mortarion had collected information on Morgan very carefully, and he knew that the Spider Queen was acting strangely now.

How could this guy who didn't see rabbits and hawks hawks sacrifice Magnus so easily? Although the original body of the Thousand Sons is arrogant and stupid, in the end it is not a negative asset... right?

And how did Morgan ensure that she would benefit from this? Will her external reputation be affected? How did she handle her relationship with Chagatai Khan? Or was it that Khan was pushing for this, and even the Chogoris abandoned Magnus?

There were too many problems. Even if they finalized the agreement in the end, Mortarion could not completely trust Morgan: after all, he knew very well in his heart that even if he promised to protect the interests of Morgan and others, if the situation on Nikaea was [very good], he would certainly have enough reasons to completely pull the entire human empire out of the quagmire of black witchcraft.

As for the oath of Barbarus?

Why should he care about that world?

Moreover, who can guarantee that Morgan is not planning the same thing, intending to eat the benefits he gave and then deny it: there are still many things to worry about.

However...

When the end of the corridor vaguely appeared in his pupils, Mortarion turned his head slightly, looked at each other with his two blood brothers, nodded, and motioned them to follow him in.

In any case, the development of things is now smoother than he imagined: even if only Magnus can be solved this time, Mortarion will be satisfied, even if Morgan and her think tank escaped?

The Emperor is about to return.

Horus is about to take power.

The Primarchs and their Legions are about to usher in a new era of arbitration by force and authority.

There are still many days ahead: Mortarion has plenty of opportunities to let Morgan's sorcery kingdom burn in front of him, let the arrogant Spider Queen kneel at his feet, cry like a helpless baby, and hold his cloak tightly to regret the mistakes she has made.

And he will kindly hold her hand, help her up, face the wrong path she has taken with her, and then guide her and Jaghatai Khan on how to move towards the true future: Magnus is beyond help, but Morgan and the Khan's abilities are obvious to all, and Mortarion does not mind becoming their new mentor and teaching them the right way.

However, before that...

"Welcome to your visit, brothers."

——————

"I have specially prepared gifts for you."

The three of them had just sat down, and before Morgan and Guilliman had adjusted to the chairs carved out of the Barbarus rock under their buttocks, Mortarion clapped his hands and signaled the death shrouds waiting next to them to bring up two boxes. The Lord of Death opened it with his own hands: two divine weapons lay quietly in the bright red silk.

"When I just returned, the Emperor gave me an energy pistol named [Lantern] as a gift. It was a trophy he captured in a battle and had been kept in the armory of the Bucephalus until I fell in love with it at first sight."

Talking about the past, the Lord of Death carefully took out an energy pistol with a strong brass style from the box. His and Guilliman's names were engraved on both sides of the barrel, but if you look closely, you will find that the name of the Macragge people is obviously newly engraved.

"That's a good gun."

The Lord of Death placed the energy pistol on the round table in the middle of the three people, and then took the [Light] from his waist: the two energy pistols were surprisingly similar, but the new one was obviously made by Mortarion himself, and his pride also proved this.

"After that, I have been trying to make a weapon of the same quality, and this work called [Reason] in front of me is the one that satisfies me the most among all the imitations: I will give it to you as a gift, Brother Guilliman, because you are the best shooter among all of us, there is no doubt about that."

Guilliman nodded, accepted the gift with gratitude, and then temporarily placed it on the round table. He turned around and signaled Auguston behind him to lift up the box that belonged to him, and then personally placed his gift on the round table.

Those were two exquisite ship models, every detail was lifelike, as if they really existed, ready to sail, fight and gain glory at any time: the pupils of the Lord of Death could not help but dilate, because he recognized these two ships with which he had a close relationship.

"Death Scythe? The Fourth Knight?"

"Your first ship, isn't it?"

Guilliman smiled as gently as possible.

"When our respective legions fought side by side for the first time a hundred years ago, you were on these two warships: the Endurance was undergoing a major overhaul at the time, but this did not delay the heroic performance of the Death Guards at all, and your Captain Garro was the first to land in that battle."

"You remember it very clearly."

Motarion smiled, he looked back at his Captain of the Seventh Captain, the ancient memories gradually became clear in his mind, and with them came great pride: in the hypocritical smiles between each other, the Lord of Death glanced at Guilliman's gift with pity.

The two gifts were placed together. Compared with the powerful weapons, the two exquisite ships were so luxurious and useless, which really fit the idea of ​​the decadent atmosphere of the Five Hundred Worlds: he didn't even want to find a room to place them, because it would pollute the purity of the Endurance.

Shaking his head, Mortarion began to recall the furnishings in his private room, trying to find a suitable place in it, and reluctantly put down these two useless things: just put them where he could see them every day when he opened his eyes, and regard them as a warning to himself.

Perfect.

The primarch raised his head proudly, then turned around and took out his second gift: compared with the pistol given to Guilliman, this huge scythe, which stood almost as tall as Morgan himself, seemed quite sincere, even if Even from the most discerning perspective, it appears to be sufficiently delicate and gorgeous. The jet black long handle is paired with a silvery edge, and the sapphires dotting it are Mortarion's pride.

"I call it [Judgment]."

The Lord of Death puffed out his chest.

"It's also my own work."

[In terms of your values, creating it is more sincere than the gift itself. 】

The Spider Queen took the weapon with both hands, which was too luxurious even for the Emperor's Children Legion. She almost did not believe that it was the work of Mortarion, but she still nodded gratefully and smiled.

[Thanks, bro: My last weapon happened to be already fragile. 】

"Fragile is also an unusual word for the Primarch's weapons."

The overly conspicuous sarcastic tone of Barbarus came online again, and just because he had just given a gift, Morgan didn't care.

[It is an ordinary weapon, but it has reached the end of its useful life: I am not sure if I can get used to using the scythe. After all, if possible, I still want to find a main weapon similar to a one-handed sword. 】

[But anyway, thank you. 】

Morgan smiled, and then asked Rana and Ahriman to carry his gift up.

"etc."

Mortarion's eyelids twitched and he stared at the silent Ahriman.

"I remember...are you Qianzi?"

"Ahriman, son of Magnus."

The Thousand Sons saluted with neither humility nor arrogance, but the Lord of Death acted calmer than expected.

"If I remember correctly, you haven't acted with the Thousand Sons Legion for a long time."

[As early as a hundred years ago, Ahriman was assisting my Think Tank Academy here in Avalon. 】

Seeing the situation in front of her, while Guilliman next to her was still in a daze, Morgan had already stepped forward, took the box from the two of them with his own hands, and then motioned for Ahriman and Lana to stand behind her again. , facing the obscure face of the Lord of Death under the hood with his own smile.

"Yeah."

Mortarion nodded.

"Smart choice: tell me, what do you think of tomorrow's meeting in Nicaea?"

Under the gaze of the three Primarchs, Ahriman only hesitated for a moment.

"I will obey the Emperor's decree: whatever be his final will?"

"Everyone can say nice things."

The Lord of Death snorted.

"If he guessed Magnus, would you voluntarily give up your psychic powers?"

Faced with this problem, even Ahriman himself did not expect that his inner reaction would be so calm. He just took a deep breath out of concern for his father, and did not even notice that his concern was purely about genes. Father's: As for whether he could still use psychic powers in the future, Ahriman never even had any worries in his heart.

His answer came from instinct.

"What I think doesn't matter."

Ahriman's voice was hoarse.

"Lord Mortarion, when the territory of the Empire of Man was still on the land of Holy Terra, my brother and I were already members of the Thousand Sons Legion. I have experienced the beginnings of the Legion and the Empire. Years later, I remember more clearly than anyone else that in the beginning, no one in the entire Thousand Sons Legion was a psyker, we were all warriors, pure and ordinary warriors, fighting for the Emperor with dedication and loyalty."

After saying this, Ahriman took off his helmet, and his smooth forehead made the two golden service nails look so dazzling. Even those present were all Primarchs, and they had to listen seriously to the Thousand Sons' bold words.

"It wasn't until the beginning of the Great Crusade that the Emperor gradually brought the shining light of psychic power to our heads: since this was a gift given by the Emperor from the beginning, it is natural for him to want to take it back. Things: Even without the blessing of psychic power, the Thousand Sons Legion can fight for the Emperor and the Imperium just as we did when we were first founded. We will continue to use our dedication and loyalty as weapons and proudly devote ourselves to the next chapter. The Great Crusade Down.”

"..."

"Okay! Very good!"

After carefully listening to the ambitious words of the Thousand Sons in front of him, the Lord of Death's laughter echoed in the room for a long time, and even the dark green aura around him trembled: He smiled while looking at the others, First he looked at his brothers with a smile, and then patted Typhon on the shoulder slightly affectionately.

"You know, I have heard that sometimes children are wiser and more decisive than their fathers. When the father is old, it is even necessary for the children to decide the future development direction of the entire family and become their new pillar: Before that, I didn’t believe in this theory until today.”

"It turns out that there really are Primarchs who are surpassed in consciousness by their descendants."

Mortarion slapped Typhon on the shoulder.

"Unheard of, right, Typhon?"

"..."

"Yes, my lord."

Typhon smiled as best he could, covering his dark eyes.

"Well said, Thousand Sons."

The Lord of Death waved his hand arrogantly.

"Stand back: I hope tomorrow's Magnus will have the same awareness as you."

"It will be a lot easier for all of us."

As he said this, Mortarion sat down, and then he realized that he seemed to have forgotten something.

He looked at Morgan, and the Spider Queen brought up a piece of shiny metal.

[I think you will need it: maybe tomorrow on Nikaea. ]

"..."

The Lord of Death did not reply. He saw clearly the gift Morgan put up: it was a piece of breastplate carefully crafted with various precious metals. It was obvious that it was definitely a masterpiece made by the hands of the Primarch, but the meaning of it made everyone frown.

"Do you think I will be the defensive party?"

[Who knows? ]

Morgan blinked his eyes, so innocent.

[After all, Magnus is not a clay statue. Since everyone knows that you are going to pursue him, he may have some means of counterattack: Prospero's eloquent tradition is long-standing, and I don't think you want to experience it. 】

"Of course, Mortarion."

Guilliman wanted to seize the opportunity before the Lord of Death said anything.

"If you are willing to compromise, such as respecting and retaining all the achievements of the think tank system, I think Magnus would not want to make a scene in a public place like Nikaea. It's too ugly: you just need to nod, and we can help you convince him."

"..."

The Lord of Death did not answer immediately. He looked at Guilliman seriously until he was sure that every word of the Macragge people was sincere. Then he smiled carelessly and pointed to the wall, a painting depicting a scene of Barbarus.

"It seems I need to say it again."

The Primarch nodded.

"I swear by Barbarus that as long as you are willing to sacrifice Magnus, I can temporarily withhold my condemnation of the Think Tank: the judgment on Magnus is the only thing I want to achieve on Nikaea. Of course, the specific result still needs to be determined by the Emperor."

"What about you, Guilliman?"

"Me?"

The Lord of Five Hundred Worlds frowned. He seemed to be resistant, but he didn't care.

"Well, if you are willing to give up the condemnation of the Think Tank system and swear never to mention it again from now on, I am also willing to swear by Macragge: we will stop the idea of ​​further expanding the Think Tank system and appropriately complain about Magnus's misconduct."

"..."

"..."

For a moment, the two looked at each other.

They didn't believe in the oath of the other.

Because they didn't believe in their own oath either.

After a moment of silence, Guilliman looked at Morgan almost instinctively.

"Don't you want to say something, sister?"

[Not for the time being. 】

"Why..."

[Because...]

[Because I really have an Avalon. 】