Warhammer: Start with a dog

Chapter 57 If you make trouble, make trouble. What do you mean by letting the eldest brother wear that? -

This curtain should not be delayed, let us quickly finish this Ascension Festival night talk (?) while it is still during the Emperor's Ascension Festival.

————————

Not to mention how the first Emperor's Champion, the former Black Knight, and now the White Knight, Sigismund, wore a pendant at the door of the Ecclesiastical Chapel on the Iron Blood ship, under the secret gaze of a certain Rogal Dorn electronic personality. How the vigorous battle scenes between Turabot's Iron Ring Guards and the Cursed Legion and the Emperor's Advent Icon made the gods above and beyond the heavens applaud each other to watch the show and place bets——

Well, maybe someone still wants to see it.

However, they were definitely not the two and a half originals who came to the officers' mess hall on time to attend the Ascension Day dinner.

The original body that now appeared in front of the cleaned and decorated officers' mess was none other than Robert Guilliman, who was wearing the ultramarine, gold and ivory white power armor of the Ultramarines. Magna Dorn and Fulgrim Pallas in Phoenician purple, ivory and gold.

Each of them was surrounded by several members of the Honor Guard from Isstvaan III. Guilliman said that it was quite a strange feeling to have the Emperor's son as his guard.

Strictly speaking, this can only be counted as 2.5 Primarchs in total. When their Highnesses came to the banquet, they all wore ribbons and cloaks outside of their power armor. Guilliman also specially wore a cap made of Destiny Steel. A crown made of fresh bay leaves from the kitchen to show how much you value this banquet.

"But why are laurel crowns produced in the kitchen and not in the greenhouse and botanical garden?" He also asked his fourth brother this question, and the latter replied that it was because laurel is a spice, so it was found in the spice garden in the kitchen.

It sounds quite reasonable and very particular.

All in all, the terrain of the Officers' Mess that was previously simulating the attack and defense of a famous hive city has now been demolished by the Imperial Fists who are not quite the Iron Warriors. And the styles of the theater stage, auditorium and banquet hall below were hurriedly added.

Finally, red and blue silks and velvets trimmed with gold were taken out in large quantities from the warehouse of a certain original body, stretched out and decorated luxuriously on the high roofs and windows, sparkling and floating in mid-air. Countless star candlesticks cast downwards the faint scent of Lebanese cedar, cedar, frankincense and myrrh.

The Thirteenth Primarch dressed up and walked into the officers' mess. He almost choked: the architectural style here can be said to be a reproduction and stitching of the buildings on some occasions he has participated in. Obviously, due to time constraints, some The architects took some architectural styles that had been done before and scaled them down so that they could meet the standards for the occasion in which the plural Primarchs would attend in the shortest possible time.

However, when he glanced at Magnar Dorn beside him, who still looked happy and relaxed, and was still chatting with Fulgrim Pallas, who came with him and sat on the anti-gravity levitation throne, he decided I still pretended that I didn't notice what kind of buildings from major events that had happened in the empire's history were incorporated into this place.

More hanging small pendants with a festive atmosphere were swaying everywhere with the breeze from the air conditioner. Guilliman took a look and found that in addition to various rounded human figures with some wings, there were also Some unique pendants:

Small red round lanterns, even stranger red-gold strings that looked like plant tassels, symmetrical fish, some kind of fruit, complicated colorful knots, some patterns made of characters he didn't recognize, spell pieces with red tassels and the like. , very distinctive, a little bit reminding him of the decorations that Jaghatai's subordinates would add to the edges of their cloaks and armors.

They're mixed in with the First Legion, the Third Legion (which now looks more like a whole phoenix than a wing), the Fourth Legion (which is just a silver skull mask!), the Seventh Legion (which is also the emblem of the Imperial Fists Chapter) No problem), Eighth Legion (Why is this? Dazzling! ) and the Ninth Legion (still a familiar pattern). Chapter emblem, very OK), Twelfth Legion (this It has changed a lot, but the connection can be seen. He heard Magna mention it and was curious about what kind of Angron he would see in the future), the white badge of his own legion (no change, thank God) , a six-pointed skull (why is it here?), a sun beetle, and some kind of dog (To be honest, although it can be guessed, it has no real sense at all) and the 19th Legion (has not changed at all, but why is it here?), the connections between these tapestries also have those bright colors. , the festive atmosphere is more joyful than the small decoration with a sense of sacredness.

"What's wrong with you? Are you okay? Guilliman?" Fulgrim Pallas first noticed something was wrong with him. His light lavender eyes looked over, full of solemn concern and rigorous scrutiny. Guilliman Man had no doubt that if he said he felt uncomfortable, the trainee Phoenix would come over and start reciting the professional first aid manual taught to him by Honso and immediately ask him to lie down and wait for the pharmacist.

"No, I'm fine. I'm just sad to see so many flags that I thought I'd never see again."

"Indeed." Young Phoenix also turned his attention to the tapestries of legion heraldry, "They look so strange yet so familiar that it makes my eyes wet."

…Am I really not having another special prophetic dream or a real dream? I remember the Ascension Day of Sanguinius last year...or when it was...Am I dreaming too? Wait, was that really a dream? Or is it now? …Stop Robert Guilliman, don’t think so much.

With such questions, they were led by the Silver Skull Honor Guard who led the way and sat on the viewing platform.

The familiar feeling of déjà vu in the auditorium... is nostalgic.

But it seems that it would be unlucky to mention that ceremony, so there is no need to spoil the fun of the two younger brothers Magna and Pallas.

Guilliman still closed his mouth and turned his eyes to the stage. The Astartes sitting neatly below looked very happy. They saluted the originals, which was rare on the faces of even the coldest warriors. With a smile.

This is... good.

The Thirteenth Primarch also had a smile on his lips. Although this was not his descendant, he hoped that one day he could see them holding such a banquet on Macragge.

The lights on the stage were temporarily turned off, and under the spotlight, the curtain opened.

A play for the anniversary of his brother's death was about to begin.

Guilliman found it ridiculous, but at the same time he was very curious about what kind of drama would be staged.

Large clumps of shimmering cold mist seeped out, the surrounding figures looked wandering, and the space began to become illusory and flickering.

The expression of the original body changed. He grabbed the ceremonial sword at his waist - it was only enough to grasp the hilt. Magna had already pulled out most of the blade, and Fulgrim had already pulled it out from the armrest of his wheelchair. The gear ax was produced and lit - that was it. The reactions of the viewers below varied, but most of them were frozen in the moment before they tried to fight back in shock.

"Next..."

Countless slender and light shadows appeared from the suddenly emerged dimension.

"Please enjoy the new play that our Misty Path Theater brings to you, "The Wedding of Hera"! Please believe that although it is as short as morning dew, it will definitely bring great shock and refreshing novel experience to everyone present! "

As the play progressed, other audiences who were frozen in the dimension of this crew did receive a great shock and an unprecedented novel and terrifying experience, but inside.

Only Robert Guilliman's eyes revealed a true and rare look of horror:

Among the Eldar buffoons performing for everyone on the stage, one was obviously playing himself, Robert Guilliman.

And what the hell is this show called? !

The primarch's blue eyes trembled with intensity.

Whose wedding? !

No, no, no, this is not a prophecy! This must be an alien conspiracy! Discredit! rumor!

————————

"Sigismund..."

There is such a sacred and sweet voice in that golden light. It calls out the knight commander's name like a sigh. It is ethereal and distant, with infinite charm, which is enough to make most people kneel down and cry bitterly.

But his heart is iron.

"This person has passed away."

The summoned resurrector calmly threw out the ammunition in his hand and sent a rushing flame warrior back to the opponent's territory. Without looking back, he gave another elbow strike. The sound of the collision between alloy and ceramic covered the inside of the power armor. There was the sound of something more brittle breaking, and then all the ammunition used by the third attack on him was caught in his hands and returned in full.

"There is only 'me' left here."

The last flaming warrior was thrown back at the feet of the golden light, and then began to twist, blur, and melt, like the shadow of a heat wave steaming on the road under high temperatures.

The long-range multi-frequency detector of the Templar Commander told him that on the altar deep in the chapel, the warriors next to the throne who had just been "killed" by him according to the rules were reappearing from the flames burning high on the altar. .

"Sigismund..."

"It's the ninth round." Yulong's improved mecha said coldly, "I noticed that the rebirth time of your team members has begun to become longer. It seems that even now after the great rift has unfolded, your strength has not grown without any improvement. Limited. There are still many restrictions on intensive rebirth in a short period of time.”

"..."

6◇9◇Book◇Bar

"Considering the types of weapons and the effects they are implicitly stipulated to be used by both of us in this special space-time field, can I think that if more conventional combat weapons are used, the number of times your warriors can recover and the time required will change. Less or longer?”

The white knight continued talking to himself, and the defensive stance of the iron ring robots silently formed a complete defensive circle behind him.

"And you personally used such an avatar to lead the troops... It's an honor, Your Majesty. The last time you personally took command was before Ullanor."

Sigismund's visor retracted back into his helmet, and with a slight and short mechanical chirp, a human face made entirely of metal underneath was revealed. The electronic bionic eyes imitated the color of the former blue irises. The golden laurel crown blends tightly with the steel forehead. "So I went into battle in person because there was no other commander. It is indeed not decent, Your Majesty. So, what do you want? Or who do you want? Let me declare first that 'my' current state cannot match your strength. ”

"...Dorn. I want my son."

"Father is indeed... dead." The Templar Captain clenched his fists involuntarily, "But he can't come and continue to serve you now, and you can't take him away. His soul still stays in his recast body. is linked to the main system here. Lord Perturabo will not allow his flagship Meditator to go offline like this. Even if I can relay it for you, I don’t think your request will be met, Your Majesty. "

"..."

The other party continued to propose a few more names.

Sigismund paused and clenched the "snowball" formed with cold energy in his hand, while more "snowball ammunition" began to condense around him.

"It seems that our 'Ascension Day Snowball Fight' will have to continue, Your Majesty. Until someone changes their mind."

————————

He is lying comfortably on the super-large hospital bed in the office while assisting in office work (due to the recent incarnation of mortals, the place where he can help has been reduced a lot, and he can only provide his own brain interface). Read a book while enjoying Reka coffee Lamizane, who was enjoying the delicious grilled venison, fermented pickled bird eggs, and cold vegetable protein extract gel in fermented sauce in the cafeteria, suddenly remembered something. He turned to look at the man with a frown and a solemn gaze. Perturabo BC with his canine teeth slightly bared and his tail raised and curled.

The light from dozens of screens and monitors are all reflected on the border collie's face. Since the dog's hair is bright but not a mirror, Lamizane has no way of knowing what he is looking at, except that he seems to be grinning. It was wonderful, so Lamizane waited for a short while, until Perturabo BC, who had already noticed the sight, gave him half a look and asked him what happened.

"That's it." Lamizane secretly pushed the book he was reading toward the quilt, so as not to offend Perturabo BC, who seemed to have taken on more workload, "I suddenly remembered something, Holy Leather Ascension Day… seems to be equivalent to Christmas in Ancient Terra.”

"It is indeed the same in terms of time." The dog said impatiently, and at the same time he typed a few commands to reply, "You interrupted my work just to tell me this?"

"Ah, no, that is to say, I suddenly thought of something. In this way, after his Ascension Festival, it is said that the Emperor's Ascension Festival commemorates the day when the Emperor sat on the Golden Throne. It lasts for a week. That's it. Does that mean today is the Emperor’s Ascension Day? "

"What's wrong?!" The dog exhaled hot breath from its nostrils.

"Christmas...I just thought, who would be the perfect Santa Claus, pfft."

Perturabo BC suddenly turned his head and stared at Lamizane who was laughing to himself with a terrifying look.

"Don't...!"

From the corner of the dog's eyes, he saw that certain two entries in an account that had finally been flattened at the end of the year started to jump crazily again.

"I mean, considering the point of 'being able to appear in any residence at any time, bringing surprises to people and being very mysterious, and living in the forest', and considering the appearance..." Lamizane said with great interest Said, "Then your eldest brother, Leon, seems to be the most suitable to be the Santa Claus of this galaxy!"

"[Gutella swears] Shut up...!"

————————

This day in the dark side of the distant empire.

Both Chaos and the Xenomorphs suffered devastating, sudden blows.

Countless people of the empire were rescued, but according to the subsequent investigation, they all said in unison that the savior from the sky refused to leave his name, and they were not allowed to leave any images of him. In the description, he was a man wearing red. A tall old man wearing power armor with white rims, a white beard, a kind face, and a red hat with white rims, accompanied by snowmen, green trees, strange mounts and big bags filled with endless weapons.