Warhammer: Black Emperor

Chapter 887 The Emperor Drives a Goat by Its Horns to Charge
"The issue of think tanks has troubled us for a long time, but all barriers will be eliminated here." Makado gripped his prepared remarks and looked around the private boxes on the lower level.

The attendants led Ninglu and the others to their private rooms, awaiting their turn to speak.

"Some believe that witchcraft is the greatest threat to our rule over the galaxy."

"Others disagree, firmly believing that the allegations stem from ignorance and fear."

He infused his words with conviction: "This is indeed the greatest crisis facing the Empire, and it must be resolved before we continue on our great journey."

"We must never suffer from internal strife."

Makado straightened up and looked around.

"So, which of you will speak first?"

"Me." The rough voice came from the VIP room opposite "Shadow of Order".

He wore a howling wolf head, with the giant wolf's two front legs resting on his chest.

He carried a long cane on his shoulder, and his mechanical legs tapped the ground.

He walked across the amphitheater, stood at the foot of the Emperor's Platform, and removed his wolf-headed helmet. "I am Oshel Wardmaker, the 'Space Wolf,' who fought alongside the 'Shadows of Order' on Stafford Prime and with Indra Sur."

“I declare that Sanchez and his group are a group of sorcerers who use dark powers, and each of them is a wizard who abuses unclean magic.”

"I swear, everything I have said is true."

He looked around and saw the Terran council members on the platform discussing amongst themselves, casting their gazes toward the "Shadow of Order".

Macardo struck the ground with his scepter, drawing everyone's attention to him.

“Osher Wardmaker, you are making terrible accusations against the Brotherhood.”

Wardmaker turned toward the "Shadow of Order," his face contorted with revulsion.

Nimrod scoffed. "[Unexpectedly, because of my appearance, Magnus didn't urge Ahriman to trust Wodemaker; instead, he was the first to step forward and point the finger at Sanchez.]"
He stared at Wardmaker's creaking mechanical prosthetic limb, [he really hated Sanchez to the core.]

However, because of the oath Ruth made to me, he didn't act in the name of "son of Riemann Ruth," and he couldn't find any "incriminating evidence," so his influence was greatly reduced.
High Priest Pat gripped his scepter tightly. "Heretics!"
Think tank director Thomas looked at Wardmaker, "[Sanchez and Okafor should be torn to shreds.]"

However, his accusations lacked any real merit.
After entering the third level of the Thelma state of mind, he was finally able to break free from the dazzling golden light and regain his thoughts.

"Does anyone support your claims?" the voice of the one who held the seal rang out.

"I."

Thomas's "peeping eye" turned and looked at Mortalian as he walked out of the box. He had taken exactly twenty-eight steps from the moment he stepped out of the box.

Thomas and Azek Ahriman, who was not far away, both saw the same number from a mystical perspective—seven.

“I have witnessed the calamities caused by witchcraft, how many worlds were turned to ashes, how witchcraft-infested commoners were enslaved, and how vile and monstrous creatures poisoned all things.”

A malevolent miasma surged within Mortalian's mind, and the pale body of the sorcerer overlord materialized.

When Nakare's hideous head suddenly appeared before him, he gasped for breath and looked toward the "Thousand Sons" private room.

call!
He exhaled heavily, making the respirator buzz.

He turned to the platform. “We all know the horrors of the ancient Long Night. Now I’m going to ask a simple question: what caused that cataclysmic event that swept across the galaxy?”

"He is a psionicist, an uncontrolled psionicist."

"You all understand the harm he represents."

Mortarian stroked the ring on his right little finger, on which a blurry pattern could barely be discerned as a lean but resilient goat.

A dazzling light rose in his eyes.

Two months ago, his father's words echoed in his ears.

"Lord of Death, you are my Capricorn."

"You silently forge ahead in pursuit of your grand ambitions, and persevere despite obstacles."

"You have expanded your territory in silence; now is the time for you to wield your scythe and shatter the darkness."

Mortarian straightened his body and gripped the pale white scythe handle tightly.

He is not a war general, but he is a righteous messenger who slays wizards.

He will fulfill the sacred task entrusted to him by his father.

"The beloved emperor had foreseen this long ago."

"Terra's psionic engines and Secret Eye detection stations can search for hidden sorcery genes in the vast galaxy."

"The Silent Sisters' black ship protects us from those dangerous mutants who abuse witchcraft."

Mortarian looked toward the high platform, knowing that the Starfather's envoy and the Star Speaker's abbot of the Navigator family had both sided with Nimrod.

They are not fences broken by goat horns.

Of the two, Lauren Wiescher, representing the Navigators, has a stake in Nimrod's interests, while Nemo Zhi-ming is someone who can be won over.

"The Empire needs Star Speakers and Navigators, who enable communication between worlds that are far apart and guide the Empire's expeditionary fleets across the stars."

He naturally placed the Star Speaker in front and nodded to Nemo Zhi-ming.

"But we don't need wizards; they abuse their power and only bring destruction to the people."

"You may all have heard of the horrors of the Long Night, but which of you has ever witnessed them with your own eyes?"

Mortarian surveyed the high platform. "The Death Guard witnessed it, in Cayor."

“My legion encountered a human civilization that had fallen into witchcraft. They had no advanced technology, but it still took my legion six months to submit to that world.”

"What do backward barbarians rely on to resist the Death Guard for so long?"

He paced around, the end of the hilt of the Silent Blade striking the ground, forcing everyone on the tiered platform to focus their attention on him.

“They are able to stop us because they possess vile power and hateful allies.”

“Every night, strange creatures originating from witchcraft would attack from the shadows, finding pleasure in killing.”

"Thunderous behemoths repeatedly broke through the Death Guard's defenses, and ferocious, blood-red hounds dragged my offspring into the dark forest."

The Terran councilors turned pale at the horrific scene depicted by Mortarian, where the Death Guard's formation had been breached in an unprecedented manner.

"They were all summoned by the wizards of Kayor. The fallen ones also ignited flames, conjured lightning, and split mountains and the earth."

However, no power comes without a price.

“In the center of every city we captured, there was a building that the locals called the Blood Temple, filled with bones.” After he finished telling the last story, he returned to the foot of the platform.

“I have no intention of accusing any of my brothers, and I do not believe they would condone such barbarity, but sin begins with small evils.”

"Doing evil is like taking a step; accumulating small steps leads to a journey of a thousand miles."

“Those who have lofty goals may also go astray, thinking that minor evils are insignificant compared to great virtues, when in fact there is no distinction between good and evil, big or small.”

Mortarian's mind flashed through Nimrod's many achievements and everything about Barbaros, and he issued his final accusation.

"The great achievements of the 'Thousand Sons' are known to all, but rumors of their use of witchcraft are equally widespread."

“I led my warriors to fight alongside the sons of Magnus, and I witnessed firsthand that it was indeed witchcraft.”

"Like the wizards of Kayor, the wizards of the Thousand Sons school crush their enemies with invisible power and summon flames and lightning to bombard them."

He gazed at the "Thousand Sons" box and said, "I felt a deep fear. I was afraid that I had defeated one army of wizards, only to find another one beside me."

“I have always had deep doubts about the establishment of think tanks in Astartes, and Deathguard is not influenced by think tanks.”

“I have remained silent until now, but I now realize that I have to break my silence. Although it pains me to accuse the Brotherhood, I cannot stand by and watch his reckless actions drag the entire Legion into the abyss.”

Mortarian bowed to the Emperor, saying, "My words are not born of hatred, but of brotherly affection for Magnus."

boom!
Fiery streams of flame erupted from Magnus's clenched fists, and the obsidian railing melted like a candle.

His violent instincts clashed fiercely with his extraordinary wisdom, and the power of anger and hatred swirled and broke through the cover of mysterious technology, radiating outwards.

A glint flashed in Nimrod's obsidian eyes, then fell upon the ring radiating spiritual light on Mortalian's right little finger.

Old Man Huang gave Mortalian the ring; it was his usual tactic—whenever he needed someone, he would always choose someone to play the role.

Mortarian is the horn he drives the goat to charge at, and the scythe he swings at the think tank.

Ah…he has a psychic avatar who is a tall, thin, handsome farmer, um…his name is Revelation.
He remained calm as he watched one accuser after another take the stage.

Most of them accused the Thousand Sons of being warlocks, but some accused the Shadow of Order of being wizards, and others accused the Holy Blood Angels of being blood mages.

But no one mentioned the white scars; they were forgotten once again.

The accusation lasted for nearly four hours.

After the last accuser spoke, Magnus, draped in a colorful feathered cloak, strode out of the box, his single eye gleaming with golden light as he stared directly at the high platform.

He bowed to the Emperor and Macardo, then smiled in the direction of Nimrod, Saint Gilles, and Fugrim, and finally magnanimously gestured to Mortarion.

He stepped onto the platform, just as he had done with Prospero, and placed his hands on the wooden lectern.

"The precious memory of questioning everything is the source of all knowledge. If we forbid the exploration of mysteries we do not understand, the flame of enlightenment will be extinguished."

"Think about how people millions of years from now will view today's absurdity."

His single eye slid down to blue.

"If we easily abandon psionic energy, we will surely suffer decay and ruin, plunging the empire into darkness."

“Those who dare to pursue knowledge selflessly are suspected, which is not the empire I believe in, nor the empire I want to be in.”

"Knowledge is the food of the soul. No knowledge is illegitimate, as long as every seeker of truth can master what he has learned."

Magnus held his head high, his eyes gleaming with dazzling silver light.

"In this respect, there is no greater scholar than Senji, who studied knowledge that others feared while fighting for the emperor on great expeditions."

"No knowledge is unattainable, and there is no hidden path."

"Ancient Terra has a story that is vividly presented today."

Magnus spoke eloquently, his narration more captivating than any preacher from the expeditionary fleet.

"Three Egyptians lived in a cave deep in the mountains. They were isolated from the world and survived on the faint flames burning around the cave, which they believed to be the only light in the world."

"Until one day, a fierce storm swept through the mountains, and a gentle breeze blew into the cave, causing the flames to dance."

"One of them suddenly got up and walked outside alone, while the other two called out to him to come back."

He raised his head, his ever-changing eyes blazing with fury.

"The lone traveler shook his head and refused, and he explored the source of the breeze alone, climbing over the mountain cliffs."

"He overcame countless difficulties and climbed to the top of the mountain, looking up at the blazing sun."

"His eyes stung, but they quickly adjusted to the light. He leaned down and looked out, and saw the cave on the mountainside."

Magnus raised his arms high, as if embracing the light.

He looked into the distance and saw a vast, green ocean and boundless golden fields.

"He sadly realized that he had wasted his years in darkness, completely unaware of the dazzling wonders that were right before his eyes."

"The world has always existed; it's just that it has been stuck in its ways in the past."

His eyes turned a melancholy gray. "He returned to the cave and told his two friends about the outside world."

"The two rebuked his absurdity, mocked his madness, and continued to tend the fire."

"He returned to the world of light and began to dig, a hundred years after a hundred years. He finally carved out a passage and showed them the real world. Did they witness the beauty and realize how much dazzling light they had missed in their lives?"

"They praised the forerunners who led them into the light and lauded their great achievements."

Magnus's eyes blazed with golden light. "My thousand sons and I have witnessed the dazzling light of the vast ocean."

"This light can free us from the shackles of the real world and make us the masters of the galaxy."

"Humans sitting around the fire must realize that a bright and beautiful future is within their grasp."

"Friends, I urge you not to abandon this opportunity to enlighten humanity, for we stand at a turning point in history, and consider how future generations will judge us."

Thunderous applause erupted as the story of Magnus deeply moved the councilors in the theater.

He bowed to the surrounding crowd in thanks, performing the gesture with composure.

He smiled as he stepped down from the platform and nodded to Saint Gilles and Fogrim, who were applauding as they came out of the box.

Ninglu also stepped out of the box, applauded Magnus, and strode towards the platform.

(End of this chapter)