Warhammer: Black Emperor

Chapter 683 Ruth, it's time to keep your promise.
Inside the golden palace, as the psionic projections of the other Primarchs disappeared, Nimrod spoke to Ruth.

"Russ, do you remember you owe me a promise?"

Lehman Russ's icy blue eyes suddenly turned fierce, and his face throbbed with pain as images of Duran flashed through his mind.

In Yolin's thirteenth company, the wild wolves underwent a malignant mutation called the Kennis Spiral. The Durans captured the mutated wolves and displayed them publicly. Helpless, he sought out Nimrod and begged him to keep it a secret for himself and the wolf pack.

He agreed to his request and kept his promise, never again speaking about himself or the "Shadow of Order," and the wolf pack hunted for him in Fenris.

He still owes Ninglu a promise.

“State your demands,” Ruth said, her gaze sharp and her voice icy. “I will not accept any unreasonable demands.”

He added a distinct emphasis to the Gothic word corresponding to "reason," and he has the right to interpret it.

“I want to bury Hannibal, so give me his body.”

Although Nimrod will not be the executioner, he still wants to obtain the greatest prize—the Primarch's body.

The Primarch itself is a treasure trove, and those containing numerous alien species are even rarer.

Nimrod made his request to Russ precisely for this moment.

As for the psionic ban imposed by the "Nicaea Conference," its effect will not last long, and its promise is meaningless there.

Nimrod also didn't believe Ruth would change his attitude toward psionics; that was an "unreasonable" demand.

His demand for Hannibal's body was different; Ruth wouldn't disobey Old Man Huang's orders for that.

Ruth gave Nimrod a deep look. "You certainly know how to be a good person."

"I will do my best to leave him with a complete body."

Ruth ended the psionic projection and vanished in front of Nimrod in a flash.

……

910.M30.

Since their departure from Caligum Gate, the iron-gray warships of the Wolf Pack, the Shadow of Reign and the Seventh Chapter, have traversed the Lyctic system.

Ruth's chilling voice echoed throughout the entire sound array channel.

“Faceless Ones, your Primarchs have committed atrocities, and I have been ordered by my Father to bring down punishment.”

“Some of you have not fallen into the same depravity as your father and your brothers in arms. You should thank him for his mercy; you have a chance to live.”

"Lay down your weapons, surrender, and await your fate."

His voice was as cold as ice, and he roared in declaration: "Hannibal, wash your filthy face clean, and I will personally end your sins."

The deep, resonant voice of the Imperial Guard then rang out: "By order of the Lord of Mankind, Faceless Ones, lay down your weapons."

"The Emperor's Pegasus, Lord Ninglu, will arrive soon, and he will give you a chance to live."

Amidst the repetitive sound of the sound array broadcast, a dozen or so tan warships hovered in the void orbit, while dozens more warships, following orders, lowered their void shields to welcome the wolf pack.

More tan warships, lined up in formation, clashed with the iron-gray punitive fleet.

The light spear flashed for a moment, illuminating the entire galaxy.

The surging laser beams, plasma clusters, and torpedoes carved out a deadly, wide path with sheer destructive power.

Iron-gray and tan warships charged toward each other, firing dense barrages of bullets at each other as they crossed paths.

Silent explosions erupted one after another, and layers upon layers of destructive fireballs raged like a storm, filling the entire void.

One by one, the engines of the ships exploded and disintegrated, causing the hulls to suddenly plummet out of control, disintegrating and breaking apart in a burst of orange-red and bright yellow light.

The wolf pack's brutal attack tore through the ochre-colored battle line, and the battlefield spread to the Second Legion's homeworld.

The two legions, who once fought side by side in the Firewheel Galaxy to purify the orcs, now clashed mercilessly. In the Faceless Ones' fortress monastery, Faceless One recruits Mellon and Tezuka Sasebo stared at each other.

In their eyes, each other's faces were as smooth as a mirror, untouched by volcanic ash.

None of them completed the final ritual—the Eucharist—under the guidance of the Master of Eucharist.

They could read worry in each other's eyes. The faint rumbling sounds, the unmasked hordes of aliens being driven into the fortress, and the frenzied feasts all told them that time was running out.

As Sasebo Tezuka flipped his hands, the Emperor Tarot cards flipped rapidly.

After shuffling the cards twice, he handed the tarot cards to Mellon.

“Come on.” Tezuka Sasebo came from Terra, grew up bathed in the Emperor’s light, trained in the starlight of the moon, and only recently came to his home planet. He believed he could feel the Emperor’s radiance better than Mellon, but the other was a think tank apprentice.

Although he was not good at prophecy, he was a better diviner than himself.

He has shuffled the cards, and the divination of fate will involve him.

Mellon nodded silently and spread it out on the iron table.

As Tezuka Sasebo watched Mellon gently stroke the cards, he silently recited in his mind.

"Your Majesty, please grant us revelation."

As the candlelight flickered, Mellon swiftly turned over the three cards one by one:
Blood-stained chariots, holy wings surrounded by flames, and snowstorms raging across the sky.

Sasebo Tezuka frowned as he looked at the cards, pondering the Emperor's revelation.

"The first card represents the present moment, blood and death. This is no surprise. The battle between the wolves and us will stain the entire Lecter red."

"The second card represents the path we seek, the revelation given to us by the Emperor."

"wing?"

"Lord Ninglu has golden wings on his back." Mellon's eyes were deep, and his tone was profound.

"Our hope?" Tezuka Sasebo looked at Mellon hopefully. Their divination was not only for themselves, but also for the fate of nearly four thousand new recruits.

Since the Legion was sent back to Lecter, the Masters of Communion have no longer paid attention to them.

The new recruits seemed to have been forgotten, and they spontaneously rallied around the wise Mellon and the resilient Sasebo Tezuka.

“Hope!” Mellon said with certainty. “That wolf also said that the fate of those who surrender will be decided by Lord Nimrod.”

“We have never committed any evil deeds, and Lord Ninglu will not lay a sword on us.”

Sasebo Tezuka recalls Terra's hazy memories, and Nimrod the legend of the Nest City.

He was as depicted on the royal coins brought to Terra by families like Visher, otherworldly yet majestic and noble. He lacked the madness of Rus and the rage of Angron, and was eclectic.

"Should I surrender to the wolves and await Lord Ninglu's judgment?"

Mellon nodded without hesitation. "Yes."

Sasebo Tezuka let out a soft sigh of relief as he looked at the card that revealed the future.

"Our future, amidst wind and snow?"

"Perhaps it's a test given to us by Lord Nimrod, or perhaps it's a new home, or maybe it's the path we're meant to take," Mellon said uncertainly, offering three possibilities.

"In any case, we must act immediately."

Tezuka Sasebo nodded. "Okay."

While Mellon and Tezuka Sasebo were contacting and gathering new recruits, Hannibal sat high on a throne carved from the bones of the Eldar in the Hall of Supper.

(End of this chapter)