"Just kidding, don't take it seriously. The Golden Throne belongs only to the great Emperor!" Swain quickly corrected himself.
He was fine with making grand statements, but if he were actually ordered to sit on the Golden Throne, he wouldn't be happy at all.
"Alright, let's get back to business. I'll take you to find your son. He's right next door, very close. We'll also bring the Dark Raven Guard with us. This area will be left to the Iron Heads for continued renovation," Swain suggested.
"As you say," the Emperor agreed to Swain's proposition. It was all along the way, and there was no need for Corax and his legion to proceed alone. Primarchs still needed to get to know each other and strengthen their bond.
"Good, then let's set off. Our destination is the Storm Sector, Barbarus!" Swain's finger tapped decisively on an unmarked planet on the star map.
Warp, Garden of Nurgle
"Hatchoo!" A powerful gust of air erupted, forming a swirling green hurricane within the small wooden hut.
"Eek! Eek! Eek!" Several Nurglings, who had been happily playing on Nurgle's shoulder, were instantly swept into the green vortex, letting out terrified squeals. Their round bodies spun and tumbled like tops in the miniature hurricane.
The next moment, the green hurricane was quelled by a swollen, pus-covered hand.
The yellowish-green hand then scooped up the Nurglings and gently placed them back on the broad shoulder, continuously comforting the little creatures.
"Who is talking about me?" Nurgle paused stirring with the wooden spoon in his hand. With a wave, the putrid green solution, teeming with various diseases and plagues in the giant cauldron, was scattered by Nurgle to an unknown corner of the material universe.
The sudden sneeze had disrupted Nurgle's rhythm. This batch of plague was already a worthless failure in the Grandfather's eyes. This time, Nurgle didn't even bother with the other occupant hiding in his garden hut.
"It must be that blue-feathered bird!" Nurgle pondered for a long time without a clear idea, so he attributed the disturbance to his arch-nemesis, Tzeentch.
Crystal Labyrinth
Tzeentch "Coo-coo-coo…"
Barbarus, Frontline
"Mortarion, the Death Guard has occupied most of the land on Barbarus. Now only the Southwest Continent remains, a stubborn bone," Typhus said, his baton pointing to this most rugged and highest-altitude continent.
The core of the Southwest Continent was the very place from which Mortarion had once fled, and it was also the stronghold of Mortarion's xenos foster father, Necare. That place had been Mortarion's cage.
Only now, Mortarion had returned, bringing his silent army to fulfill the solemn vow he had made when he fled in disgrace!
Mortarion would use the blood of his xenos foster father to wash away the stain on his own honor!
"In seven hours, according to our earlier plan, launch the attack, clear out the surrounding small strongholds, and we'll meet at the old place!" Mortarion's low, hoarse voice commanded. Then, this tall and thin Primarch, who remarkably resembled an old farmer, picked up his huge scythe, which had been resting nearby, and was the first to stride out of the frontline command post.
The Primarch's exaggerated gaze was fixed on the distant mountain fortress shrouded in thick poisonous mist, and his eyes revealed an expression of profound hatred.
"I once told you to wash your neck and wait for my blade. Now I'm here!!!" Mortarion withdrew his gaze and walked towards the Death Guard, who were already prepared to launch their assault.
Seven Hours Later
"Whoosh…" A low and prolonged horn sounded. The Death Guard, who had been waiting patiently, began their advance with heavy, measured steps. There were no passionate roars, no inspiring pre-battle speeches. The Death Guard simply advanced in silence, just like their name, advancing into death itself.
From a high-altitude perspective, the green Death Guard were like a silent green tide, continuously engulfing the xenos strongholds that were still putting up desperate resistance, and then steadily advancing towards the next objective.
The way the Death Guard advanced evoked only two words: "shocking." The unique environment of Barbarus had forged their distinctive marching style.
The planet-wide poisonous gas had forced the people of Barbarus to adhere to the rule of not speaking unless absolutely necessary from a young age. Even with self-made gas masks, there was no way to filter the sudden influx of large amounts of poisonous gas in the air.
Through generations of enforced silence, the Death Guard formed this awe-inspiring marching style, and the xenos enemies on Barbarus were also defeated by the unique combat methods of these former slaves.
No matter how severe the damage they sustained, not a single Death Guard would utter a sound until they fell to the ground, and then the next Death Guard would continue the relentless advance. The Death Guard used their resilience to kill the xenos who had once treated them as mere livestock.
"Whoosh…Whoosh…" Two low horn sounds echoed across the sky.
The Death Guard, who were silently advancing, all halted their steps. Only a small portion of heavily armored and well-equipped Death Guard gathered in one direction.
These stopped Death Guard had already completed their strategic objectives. The upcoming mountain battle was no longer something they could intervene in.
Barbarus orbits a dim yellow star. The most toxic part of the planet-wide poisonous gas rises towards the heat of the star, so high-concentration toxic gases accumulate more in the mountain areas.
Therefore, all the mountains on Barbarus are inhabited by various xenos who are not afraid of the poison. The mountain where Mortarion's foster father resides is the most toxic place, and the gas masks equipped by ordinary Death Guard simply cannot withstand such terrifying poison.
They would all be poisoned to death by the mountain's gas before even reaching halfway up. Only the heavily armored Death Guard can resist the terrifying poison on the mountain. Their armor can isolate the corrosion of the gas on their bodies, and their carefully made gas masks can barely last until they reach above the halfway point of the mountain.
As for the summit, all hope rests with Mortarion and his Death Shroud.
Mortarion would not commit all his forces into Necare's territory for his revenge. Even if he failed, the humans on this planet would be able to occupy other continents, and life would at least be much better than before.
Yes, Mortarion was prepared for his own potential failure, but this time, even if he failed, Mortarion would not allow himself to become a slave. He was here to wash away his shame, not to deepen this stain.
Necare was a powerful overlord. As a child, Mortarion had tried to resist him repeatedly, but the opponent's powerful psychic abilities, as vast as the ocean, and physical qualities more exaggerated than a Primarch's, had left a very deep and lasting impression on Mortarion.
Mortarion launched various forms of resistance again and again, but was suppressed repeatedly.
"Whoosh…" Mortarion personally blew the horn of attack, and a low roar echoed across the entire Barbarus.
The sound of the horn carried the endless rage of countless humans on this planet who had already died or were preparing to die, launching their revenge against the most powerful xenos on this planet!
"Fire!" The Death Guard commander at the foot of the mountain directed the Death Guard's artillery unit to begin unleashing shells upon the xenos defenders on the mountain.
The powerful airflow generated by the muzzles constantly churned the highly toxic air on Barbarus.
At this moment, Mortarion had already begun to stride with steady steps towards his path of defying fate.
Onboard the Fleet
"Fleet, set sail! Target: Barbarus. Prepare to switch on the Geller Field. Begin sealing all external observation windows..." The battleship's sonic array system continuously reminded all crew members of the massive battleship that Warp travel was about to commence.
Heavy armor plates on the battleship's side portholes isolated the crew's view from the Warp, preventing contamination from direct observation of the unpredictable realm.
The Custodes fleet and the Dark Raven Guard fleet formed a mixed fleet, a striking tapestry of gold and black, speeding towards the nearby planet Barbarus. In the current calm Warp, a Warp journey from Saving Star to Barbarus would take two to three days at the fastest, and a week at the slowest, which could be considered quite close.
"The reason you were so eager to call me is because you're afraid of that fat guy, right?" The Emperor picked up a piece of lean meat, put it into his mouth, and chewed gently.
In contrast, Swain, who was beside him, was devouring various delicacies as if he were a starving ghost reincarnated. Compared to the Emperor's elegant and composed demeanor, calling Swain an uncivilized monkey would be an overestimation.
"Hmm... yes... All other Primarchs are easy to deal with, but Mortarion is a bit troublesome, mainly because it's too close to the fat guy's doorstep, and his power's interference with reality is much stronger. I'm scared," Swain admitted shamelessly, swallowing a whole piece of grox lean meat with difficulty.
Only someone with a problem in their head wouldn't cling to a strong leg, especially when it's helping the Emperor find his son, not his own.
"You're overthinking it. Mortarion's return to the Imperium is inevitable. It's not yet time for them to act. All the Chaos Gods are happy to see those lost Primarchs return to lead their legions," the Emperor said dismissively.
"This isn't the first time I've done this. If my strength isn't enough, I can only cling to your leg. Besides, do you really believe Mortarion must belong to Nurgle? Didn't you tell the four of them that you wouldn't give them a single one?" Swain said, looking at the Emperor with the eyes of a scoundrel.
"So what do you plan to do about Nurgle? Elaborate!" The Emperor completely ignored Swain's strange gaze.
He was tens of thousands of years old; let alone Swain's petty looks, enduring spit was a basic skill. Of course, if this person was chopped into mince by the Custodes, that would be none of his business.
What does it matter to me, the Emperor, if the Custodes did it?
"Actually, there's not much that can be done. The Chaos Gods' corruption of the Primarchs is achieved over a long period of time, not just the Primarchs, but also the people within the legions. We can't constantly monitor all the Primarchs," Swain said without offering a clear solution.
Since it's impossible to monitor all the Primarchs, then only a portion can be monitored. The question is, who to monitor? For ordinary people, this is a difficult choice, as all 21 Primarchs are their own sons.
It was obvious that the Emperor was not an ordinary person. For him, there was no son that could not be sacrificed.
"We'll talk about this later. I don't believe it; they can't possibly break into the material universe!" The Emperor fiercely swallowed a sizzling, oily piece of roasted beast meat and said viciously.
Since he had made up his mind not to give any, then he truly wouldn't give any!
A true man must keep his word!
"Whatever you want." Swain looked at the Emperor's demeanor and knew that he was going to gallop down the path of being a scoundrel.
When the four bullies came knocking, the Emperor would know the true power.
In the original background, when the Emperor took four Primarchs to the planet Moloch to meet the Chaos Gods for the second time, the Evil Gods all thought that the Emperor was keeping his promise and bringing them their investment returns.
But the result was that the Emperor gave them a cold glance, then ruthlessly tricked the Chaos Gods, turning around and fleeing with the Primarchs.
Then, the Chaos Gods became enraged. Since you won't give, then we'll just come and take it ourselves. When bullies come knocking, do you still expect to send them away with the original reward? It's not realistic, is it?
Thus, the Great Heresy occurred. Originally, the Chaos Gods only wanted four, but in the end, it evolved into half of the gene-Primarchs rebelling.
Besides reclaiming their profits, the Chaos Gods also enjoyed the sacrifices brought by a war that engulfed the entire galaxy; one could say they were feasting with mouths full of oil.
As for that scoundrel who tried to default on his debts, he was naturally beaten into the ICU to deeply reflect on his mistakes.
The Warp Chaos Gods have many means; it's not as if just because the Emperor stopped building the Webway, they had no way to reclaim their principal and investment returns.
"By the way, when do you plan to let Corax know the truth about the Warp? Corax has been looking at me strangely lately.
He probably thinks I'm your real son, right? You spend more time and see me more often than you summon him? And all he does is learn to manage the legion and his fief, and then learn to manage the legion and his fief again," Swain prompted.
He truly did not approve of the Emperor concealing the truth about the Warp from the Primarchs. To use an inappropriate analogy, an ugly daughter-in-law must eventually meet her in-laws.
The Imperial Truth woven by the Emperor for the residents of the Imperium made the Imperium champion science and truth, even prohibiting the use of psychic powers by legions and disbanding the Librarius after the Council of Nikaea, which led to them being caught completely off guard during the later Great Heresy.
When boltguns, capable of piercing ceramite armor and killing Astartes, had little effect on Chaos Daemons, the Astartes also became confused.
It was only after suffering enormous casualties that they discovered melee weapons caused more severe damage to Chaos Daemons, but a new problem immediately followed: the Chaos Daemons' psychic units entered the fray.
But the legions' Librarius had already been abolished by the Emperor...
In this terrible galaxy, humanity did not have many good solutions; only the Warp itself could counter the Warp. However, due to the potential danger of Warp corruption, the Emperor prohibited the application of psychic powers.
Facts proved that this prohibition did not have much effect; the Primarchs and legions that were destined to be corrupted were still corrupted, and those destined to betray still betrayed.
"The time is not yet ripe. I am considering finding a suitable time to reveal some limited information about the Warp to the Primarchs. Their main task now is the Great Crusade," the Emperor did not reject Swain's suggestion.
"As long as you like it." Swain devoured all the delicacies on the table like a whirlwind and then left the Emperor's exclusive dining area.
Amidst the grateful gazes of all the attendants and imperial chefs in the restaurant, Swain gradually disappeared. Although this was the Emperor's exclusive dining place, it was like a mere decoration; the Emperor usually never came here.
But ever since this 'problem child' in the eyes of the Custodes arrived, the attendants here had seen the Emperor more times than in the past few decades combined.
This made the chefs' gazes particularly warm when they saw Swain.