Warhammer: In the Name of Nirvana

Chapter 726 Magnus&#039;s Folly

The Emperor is still alive.

He is weak, he is in trouble, he has suffered unimaginable injuries, his intact flesh hides shocking wounds, his soul is bleeding, his spiritual world is being shattered by the influx of endless darkness, like a wall trampled by a barbarian army.

But he is still alive: his great power is still surging.

Malcador can be sure of this.

Although the Sigillite is now in the most embarrassing stage of his life process of more than 6,000 years: the black monk robe that was originally as smooth as silk was affected by the terrible disaster on Nikaea, and it has become a ravaged rag, with ugly gaps and piles of dust staining it.

Malcador's condition was not much better than his robe: his own strength was so strong, and the distance between him and the Emperor was so close, which ensured that the Sigillite's life was safe, but his spiritual world still suffered an unprecedented shock, and the dizziness and tearing pain made Malcador almost unable to stand.

The only thing to be thankful for was that the Sigillite's hands had always been tightly holding the Eagle Scepter given to him by the Lord of Humanity: this symbol of the Empire's power was as solid as her status, and even in the face of the invasion of the Destruction Storm, it could still protect the people around it.

The Sigillite was the lucky one, and there were also the Golden Guards who were closer to him: these warriors most trusted by the Emperor were indeed not good at fighting against damage from the subspace, just as the outside world stereotyped them, but this [not good] was relative to their other abilities that made them unique in the galaxy.

When the light of destruction swept over, although most of the Imperial Guards were like the Astartes and mortals they usually despised, they had almost no resistance, but there were still a few lucky ones who were very close to the Emperor and Malcador's scepters and were protected in time by the latter's majesty.

When the storm calmed down a little, these Imperial Guards were the first to wake up: when Malcador frowned and tried his best to dispel the pain in his mind, he heard the friction sound of the golden warriors who were originally lying in a mess and struggling to get up from the ground.

The Imperial Guards were very confused, and there was a rare dullness and filth in their mouths. The dignity that they tried hard to maintain on weekdays was torn clean at this moment: almost every golden warrior wanted to rush to the Emperor immediately, but they were so weak that they even found it difficult to stand up and pick up their weapons.

The Sigillite had no time to deal with these guards whose weapons were blown away: when the wind of destruction subsided, Malcador quickly spread his psychic touch to the ruined Temple of Nicaea, looking for any signs of survivors.

Emperor bless: those who can stand here are the essence of the entire human empire. If they are annihilated here, the disaster brought to the empire will be no better than the direct explosion of Holy Terra by an unknown force. Cleaning up this mess is more difficult than starting and ending ten apocalyptic wars.

Simply put: this is the difficulty that can make Morgan or Guilliman have the idea of committing suicide.

The same is true for the Sigillite...

Malcador's heart sank.

First, the Imperial Guards: the Emperor's beloved ones were as lucky as the Sigillite. They were protected in the position closest to the Emperor. Although they were more or less seriously injured, their most basic life support was still safe. Even the Emperor who was protected by them seemed to be in a worse physical condition than them.

Then, farther away, the breath of the 19 Primarchs was the most conspicuous and important one in Malcador's mind: Fortunately, everyone was still alive, even Magnus still had vital signs, but when the dirty red wind of destruction raged among them, the Sigillite could not see more clearly.

But he was sure that Magnus's condition was worse than he thought.

As for why he was so sure...

The Sigillite's eyes moved downwards: when the storm was raging just now, when he tightly grasped the Emperor's scepter and tried to stand firm in the impact of the steel knife, Malcador vividly remembered that he seemed to be hit by a flying giant. That was the only clear memory in his mind.

Apart from that, he had forgotten what had happened: his last memory was when Magnus's Sun was still hanging high in the dome, and at the behest of the Lord of Mankind, he asked Magnus to carefully present it, and the Prosperos did so.

But then, the Primarch made a mistake in a simple psychic summoning spell, and although it was not fatal, the Sun seemed to seize the opportunity and no longer obeyed the Primarch's call: it rampaged across the venue like a monster, and before Malcador or even the Emperor could react, the entire hall was swallowed up by the storm of destruction.

After that, the Sigillite only remembered the "Sudden Disaster" under his feet.

After the storm subsided, Malcador was finally able to see the substance of the object, but when he did so, the Sigillite's heart suddenly sank: what almost knocked him down in the storm was not some unknown substance, but on the contrary, Malcador recognized it at a glance.

This was a severed hand, with blood dripping from the gap. It was undoubtedly pulled off from its owner by the most brutal means: and considering that this palm was larger than Malcador's head and the skin was red, it was self-evident who its owner was.

Not only that, just within the range of Malcador's vision, such flesh and blood were everywhere: they were not even complete, as if they were blown off from a giant bit by bit with explosives.

The most crazy slow slicing...

Magnus...

The seal holder raised his head and took a closer look in the direction in front of him: the position originally occupied by the Scarlet King had now been swallowed by the vortex of the storm. Even Malcador could not see what was happening inside. The life signal of the primarch was inside, and every second seemed weaker than the last second.

After staring silently for a while, the Sigillite finally left his sight. Even he did not dare to walk into the storm casually. The missing memory fragments and the vague pain in his brain suppressed his courage: Moreover, the Emperor behind him remained silent, making it unclear what his specific situation was.

But unlike the Emperor, the situation of many [weak] people present was clear at a glance: Malcador silently praised the Lord of Humanity for his foresight in his heart. If he had not asked the Sigillite to disperse most of the people in the Nikaea Hall during his rest time, the current losses would definitely be more serious.

And thanks to the Emperor, when Magnus's sun rose, there were not many people left in the Nikaea Hall: the nineteen Primarchs, with their physical and mental strength, would at least not collapse immediately, and the weaker Astartes warriors, who stayed here, were only a little over twenty people.

Even the chief think tanks of each legion were not present this time, because the previous reports and discussions had confirmed that the think tank system would definitely be retained. As for the fate of Magnus and the Thousand Sons Legion? Not everyone would care about this matter.

Only Ahriman, as the person involved and their representative, stood close to Morgan: this saved his life.

Malcador felt Morgan's psychic aura, which was second only to the Emperor. Although it was weakened to a certain extent and was not within the protection of the Lord of Mankind, the Spider Queen still recovered faster than the Sigillite. Gathering around her, the psychic aura of other Primarchs obviously shrank.

And farther away, the aura that was almost the same as that of the Primarchs belonged to Ahriman. His soul was only injured, but his body had been beaten to death: the Sigillite ensured that Corax's aura quickly approached Ahriman and held the latter in front of Morgan. After receiving treatment and recovery from the Spider Queen, he extended his senses to the mortals at the lower level.

It is not accurate to say that they are mortals. The ones who protected themselves better in the ruins are the chief of the Star Speaker Court and the representative of the Navigator family. Their lives are safe, which makes the seal holder feel relieved: if these two died in Nicaea inexplicably, even the Emperor himself would probably be embarrassment because of the suspicion of the two major forces.

And farther away, most of the mortals, like the Astartes, were buried in the ruins after the storm. Most of them became extremely weak, but at least most of the Astartes survived, and the number of deaths among mortals was not as many as expected.

But the seal holder still felt that his heart was bleeding silently: because among those mortals who had become dark, there were several capable ministers that Malcador remembered in his heart, and one was even a candidate for the future supreme leader. After this sudden catastrophe, the entire Holy Terra government team might have to go through a large-scale rectification.

If these survivors can ensure their [purity] in the future.

Otherwise, Malcador will have to find a way to set up a new government.

I hope it won't be like this...

The Sigillite's third eye quickly scanned the only Astartes warrior who died in the disaster. He was the Emperor's Children representative sent by Fulgrim to attend the meeting on his behalf because he was deeply involved in the Great Vortex War. He was also one of the few psykers in the Third Legion. He fell beside Leman Russ.

Judging from his actions, the Wolf King wanted to protect this warrior before he fainted, but he was obviously unable to take care of himself: Mortarion next to him had already stood up shakily, and his vicious curses could still echo in Malcador's ears even through the storm. The Lord of Death was looking for his scythe and vowed to chop off Magnus' head.

The casualties of the mortal dignitaries on this side made people unable to help but smack their lips: more than a hundred famous big men, perhaps thirty of them have become a pool of blood and flesh, and whether the rest can be saved depends entirely on God's will.

The worst were the representatives of the Mechanicus who came with the Forge General. Their huge metal bodies crushed each other, and who was the toughest one was decided in the most tragic way?

In order to be able to encourage more momentum in front of the Emperor in the private conversation after the end of the Nikaea Conference, the Forge General Kalberhar did not hesitate to put down his posture and temporarily draw the powerful leaders of Mars to his side to attend together. However, after this wave of catastrophe, the other head of the double-headed eagle will experience great turmoil.

Under the weak electronic pulses of the Forge General and a few metal survivors, a large number of names that were powerful even in Malcador's heart were buried: the entire Mars would fall into madness in order to compete for the status and resources they left behind.

The Mechanicus will usher in a wave of mutual strife that is no different from a civil war.

However, this is not even the most troublesome thing for Malcador now.

Not even in the top three!

Damn Magnus...

The Sigillite took a deep breath. Just ten minutes ago, Malcador would not have such a real hatred for any of the Emperor's sons. Even Horus and Mortarion, who had not had a good relationship with him for a long time, were just more naughty heirs of the Lord of Mankind in the eyes of the Sigillite. Their hatred for Malcador was no different from the nonsense of children in the eyes of the latter.

After all, no matter what they said, these descendants of the Emperor were also obediently contributing to the Great Crusade of mankind. Although they secretly disobeyed the orders of the Sigillite, they did not cause more losses: Who knew that Magnus would mess up the whole situation with just a slight exception?

The Sigillite covered his forehead. The shadow in the memory chain and the pain in his mind made him extremely sure that the [Eye of Nikea] on his head was corroding his spiritual world.

If Malcador was like this, how could the Primarchs be an exception? Who knows what kind of impact this pollution will cause.

In addition, there are casualties reports inside and outside the Hall of Nikea: Regardless of how much power the Empire will lose, the interests of the mortal dignitaries who died here alone are linked to the whole body, and the power structure of Terra will be reorganized as a result...

It just happened to choose this critical moment when the Emperor was about to leave the Great Crusade!

Damn it...

Everything seemed to be planned...

At this moment, some of Malcador's views began to waver: Is it true that, as Mortarion said, Magnus has been planning a subversion of the Emperor?

...Yes! The Emperor!

He was silent again!

All the casualties in front of him gave the Sigillite far less panic than the deathly silence of the Lord of Mankind on the platform: the Emperor maintained a silent silence throughout the entire Nicaea Council, but Malcador knew very well that the previous silence was loyal to reserve, and the current silence was the helplessness after being seriously injured.

The Sigillite knew why: among all the people present, only he saw the Emperor's actions at that time, and only he knew why even the Primarchs were hit, but most of the Astartes and mortals survived.

Because the Emperor took action.

Although Malcador still couldn't be sure what happened at that time? But when Magnus's sun went out of control, the Emperor, who had sensed the sun's presence as soon as the Primarch landed and had silently prepared, did not let the situation deteriorate: he immediately released his power.

The storm was so terrible that it wantonly destroyed the indestructible temple and knocked all the Primarchs unconscious, but despite this, it was still only a small part of the destruction storm that was leaked out under the Emperor's prevention: perhaps not even one-tenth,

The power from the Lord of Mankind offset the storm's offensive, allowing Malcador and the Guards to be safe and sound, and allowing the Astartes and mortals present to at least save their lives. The Primarchs received the least care, but their own power could ensure it.

So, the absurd reality is that the one who was most seriously injured might be... the Emperor.

"Emperor!"

The Sigillite even forgot the honorific.

"You... you... how are you?"

The Sigillator turned around, and the light on the platform made him unable to open his eyes: it was not originally like this. Originally, the Emperor's sacred light would only shield the mortals and Primarchs below the scene, but this time, the Lord of Mankind did not hesitate to use more power to isolate his true state from the vision of everyone present. The trauma he suffered must be more serious than the Sigillator thought.

Malcador wanted to rush forward, just like the other guards who had just recovered their spirits, but before they could move, a will from the hall stopped them: the Emperor's order was unquestionable, and they were required to rescue more survivors.

And here in Malcador, he was fortunate to hear the Emperor's current voice.

So weak...

In the years they knew each other, he had never felt the Emperor so weak, even the duel with Emperor Randan that year did not cause so much damage to the Lord of Mankind: it was unimaginable that even with full preparations, the Emperor was forced to such a point.

Malcador's back was covered with cold sweat.

"My Lord?"

He asked tentatively, and received a response after a few seconds of silence.

+ Malcador...my friend... +

"My Lord! You still..."

+Prepare...prepare for the ritual... +

In the intermittent voice, the Sigillite heard a slight murmur. The Emperor seemed to be injured, not physically, but mentally. He seemed to be fighting against the pain, fighting against the invisible opponent in his mind, which required full concentration. Even his voice seemed a little upside down.

The Minotaur broke through the cage, and the Lord of Mankind was trying his best to contain it again: and survive.

+The ritual of forgetting... +

"Forget?"

+Remove memory! +

Overwhelmed coughing.

+Grinding memories...everyone...everyone on Nikea...+

+ Primarchs, Astartes, mortals...let them forget what happened today...forget anything related to Nikea...completely forget...+

+ Do it now! +

"..."

"Everyone? My lord?"

+That's right...+

The emperor was silent for a moment, seeming to be contemplating a difficult decision.