Warhammer: Black Emperor

Chapter 888 The jurors sided with me directly.

Inside the amphitheater box, Peturabo's icy blue eyes were fixed on Ninglu as he walked toward the platform.

His steps were calm and composed, unlike Motalian's, which was full of malice, or Magnus's lecturer demeanor.

He clenched his fists, and scenes flashed through his mind:
The Dawn Star, Magnus's vibrant spirit.

At the center of the galaxy, he and Magnus entered the Reign Shadow and witnessed the chaotic yet artistic palace.

Ninglu gifted him the home planet Randan in memory of his ironclad defense against the alien army.

……

Before he set off to guard the western border of the galaxy, Nimrod built a grand theater for him in Vostonia, where many wonderful performances from around the world were held.

Peturabo's eyes blazed with fury, and he almost rushed out of the box to stand with his two friends who were on trial.

boom!
The chilling starlight extinguished the blazing flames.

A powerful, muscular bull charges forward.

"My son, do you still remember what I said to you when we first met?"

“I remember you saying, ‘Your path will be difficult, but only a handful of people will be worthy of it.’”

“You also said, ‘I have arranged many trials for you, tireless, indomitable, and unstoppable. You will become my master of steel.’”

Golden light shone into his eyes. "So, how did you answer?"

“I said, ‘I ask for nothing more! I swear, I will always be loyal and serve you. I swear.’”

“Very well, today I also want to tell you that you are not only my Lord of Steel, but also my Taurus. You have shown your fortitude, but that is not all…”

The father's words were calm and powerful, cooling the raging flames.

"Taurus is sincere and devoted; he serves only one person."

Do you understand?

“I understand, I will always serve you,” Peturabo murmured to himself.

The trident's blade... Company Commander Fricks looked at his father with a puzzled expression.

"Father, what should we do?"

“Do nothing,” Perturabo said coldly, staring intently at the armor Manus had crafted for Nimrod, sketching lines in his mind.

Nimrod's calm voice reached his ears, "Before Aristarchus of Samos appeared, people firmly believed that ancient Terra was a flat plane, with the ocean pouring down from all sides."

"Later, people came to know that planets are spheres."

"However, religious scholars claim that Terra is the center of the universe, and that the sun, moon and stars revolve around it."

Nimrod's obsidian swept across the councilors on the tiered platform, and not one dared to meet the gaze of the blood-soaked king.

Those who accused him felt a chill run down their spines, lowered their heads, and tried to hide in the shadows.

He dares not do anything!
I speak frankly on the Emperor's orders.

I've read his biography; he wasn't the savage Ruth, the bloodthirsty Angron, he was alright.

[…]
“Anyone who dares to question a foolish idea is labeled a heretic and put on trial.”

“They were denounced as heretics, degenerates, wizards, charlatans, and liars. They were burned at the stake and thrown into lava lakes.”

"Tens of thousands of people have died."

Ninglu's gaze swept over Osher Wardmaker, his hatred undisguised.

He knew that even if Magnus's speech was as brilliant as he remembered, making the charges against them less irrefutable than the accusers had hoped, the outcome was already decided.

Old Huang will not change his mind.

He firmly believes that banning psionic energy is a powerful means to prevent the corruption of chaos, and that he can complete the Webpath Project and free humanity from the control of the warp.

He couldn't change Old Man Huang's mind.

He wanted to emphasize that think tanks should not be judged.

No one was punished for this. Old Huang could do whatever he wanted. Anyway, his ban was just that—a tiny bit more effective than toilet paper.

"Later, Copernicus revealed the truth to us: Terra revolves around the sun." "Today, his statue stands at the entrance to the Terra Grand Observatory, and one of the three classes of time-dividing Vostonia is named after him."

"The barbaric and ignorant past should not be repeated, and killing one another is not a way to appease the ignorant."

Ning Lu looked up at the high platform and said, "An overheated plasma gun will explode, and even a sturdy and durable bomb gun can become inaccurate if properly maintained."

"Have any soldiers dropped their weapons?"

"To regard all psionicists as evil is tantamount to forgetting the Empire's dependence on them."

His obsidian eyes swept across the high platform, landing on the Star Father envoy Lauren Visher of the Navigator family, dressed in black robes, and Nemo Zhi-ming, the abbot of the Star Language Court, before finally settling on Makado and Old Man Huang.

"The blade was forged by a blacksmith, and the psionicists were trained as think tanks."

"Astartes hones their skills in the training cage, while psionicists bring unbound psionic energy under their control in the think tank."

"What I say is the truth!"

Ning Lu said in a deep voice, and after finishing his brief speech, he turned to walk off the stage.

Deng!Deng!Deng!
His boots clattered eleven times on the ground, and he suddenly stopped.

He held a long skull staff, and the edges of his winter-white armor had just been painted black.

He strode forward, proclaiming, "I am Tagutai Yesugei of the Borjigin clan of Chogoris, the Storm Prophet of the Great Khan."

“I listen to the words of noble people, I solemnly swear that what Lord Ninglu said is the truth, and that the Storm Prophet is a shaman who has mastered the way of heaven.”

One after another, think tank directors emerged from the private room and stood in front of Ning Lu.

Dio Proms from "Ultraman".

Yumokin, the "Salamander".

Phil Zarost, the "Lord of the Midnight".

Ericas, the "Dark Angel".

……

Thomas, the “Shadow of Order”.

Balsa Kuturi of the "Raven Guard".

Hathor Matt of "Thousand Sons".

Fourteen think tank directors surrounded Ninglu, like fourteen guards holding scepters.

Ning Lu was taken aback, looking at the fourteen think tank directors in front of him, feeling that the scene before him seemed familiar.

There were twelve people standing next to Magnus, but I had two more.

One is that Ahriman was too proud of Magnus to step forward, and now Hathor has taken his place; the other is my son Thomas, who reacted very quickly.

Hmm... Compared to Magnus, I, who proposed the think tank plan, am the one seen by the legions' think tanks as the one to bear the pressure.
Ning Lu was lost in thought when he suddenly turned around.

A series of figures descended from the high platform, with his biographer, Pechorella Viva, leading the way, her black dress billowing in the air.

He was followed by dozens of Terra Council members, fifteen of whom were unfamiliar faces he had never seen before.

Ninglu memorized the fifteen men and looked toward the end of the line.

On the high platform, the two lords of the Terra Council, Barton Drake and Lauren Wisher, rose without hesitation and walked side by side down the steps, descending amidst the shocked gazes of the crowd.

[This...the jurors have sided with me?]
As he pondered, Pedronila approached him, performed a elaborate courtly ceremony, and then stood behind him.

After the others bowed, they stood on the right, and the fourteen think tank directors made way for Ning Lu, lining up on the left behind him.

Barton and Lauren stood on either side of Ninglu, looking up at the high platform.

The emperor looked down and listened to everyone's comments.

He gazed at the people around Ninglu, weighed his decision, and then walked to the edge of the platform.

"Listen to my verdict."

(End of this chapter)