Warhammer 40: My Fiancée Fulgrim.

Chapter 164 Numerology, isn't it amazing?

"According to the interstellar communications we have received, the fleets of Iron Warriors and Deathguards are about to cross the warp and arrive at Mandeville Point in this system."

"it is good."

"Notify the Sons of the Emperor warriors of the First Company of Adorlu to prepare. We will meet them at the third landing zone of the spaceship."

"Yes."

"Alright, Casca, it's time to go."

Feeling a pull from beside him, Casca, who had been standing there blankly, mechanically moved a few steps forward.

"What's wrong, Casgar?"

Fugrim turned her head with some confusion to look at Kasgar, whose face was ashen. She brought her face close to Kasgar, her long eyelashes seemingly about to brush against his face.

"Nothing. Hmm!"

Under the helpless gazes of Commander Edor and many of the Emperor's Sons, who seemed to think, "Uh, these two are entangled again," Kasgar slowly pushed the other away after being ambushed.

"The other two Primarchs will be here soon. Let's prepare to receive them."

The planet where the Emperor's Son fleet is currently located is an excellent subspace hub.

Warp travel to nearby star sectors requires a jump here for safety, so this small star system, not too far from Lycaius, became the location where the Emperor's Sons Legion waited for the other two Primarch Legions.

After the previous four expeditionary fleets completed their exploration of the Dark Night Sector, Rogdorn and his Imperial Fist fleet were assigned to the area for construction and more tedious inventory and investigation work.

When it comes to beating up dust, Imperial Fist is the professional.

Although the subspace storms in the Dark Night Sector have weakened somewhat, they remain intense. If a sufficiently powerful expeditionary fleet is not dispatched to garrison them, these planets are likely to rebel again before surface defenses are established.

Incidentally, with the most powerful Mountain Formation fleet stationed here, we can also investigate the whereabouts of the four expeditionary fleets that went missing earlier.

As for the other two expeditionary fleets—the Lions seemed to have been assigned some mysterious mission by the Emperor, and after a brief farewell that revealed no useful information, they disappeared at Mandeville point above the planet.

No one knows what dark and profound missions the Lion's Dark Angels have received.

I hope I never will know.

However, it is said that before setting off, Luther voluntarily transferred himself to Caliban's rear, as if begging for mercy, to focus on the logistics and production of the Dark Angels.

After the Lion King reluctantly agreed, he expressed his boundless gratitude for the Lion King's magnanimity.

—Then, in the next second, they boarded the void ship bound for Caliban.

run!
Run!

Before the Lion King could catch up with Luther and try to persuade him to stay, he fled to Caliban without looking back, as if he had encountered a fallen angel from the inner circle.

Even the slightest hesitation would be a grave disrespect to the play "The Caliban: Knights of the Order".

Although the outcome didn't change much, it seems that Luther's impression of the lion has improved considerably.

perhaps?

As for Horus, the remaining Shadowmoon Wolf, he received a request for assistance from the star sector.

Several Imperial worlds near the Ulanno sector have lost signal, leading the Terra War Council to suspect that some kind of alien enemy or rebel force is operating in the vicinity.

After weighing their options, they decided to send Horus and his Shadowmoon Wolves as the vanguard to scout ahead and send back their reports for a final decision.

Horus naturally accepted the mission without hesitation.

Of course, at this time, he had no idea what kind of centaur gold ring awaited him on this planet in the future.

But Casca knew.

he knows!
Tzeentch followers often curse knowledge, and if you possess too much knowledge that you shouldn't have, you will fall into their trap.

But Casgar's curse originated from himself.

What are we going to do now?!

He was afraid.

Thanks to Fugrim's efforts, the entire world of the Empire now knows that the [Centaur Gold Ring] was promoted by Kasgar!
Now, how is he going to explain this to the emperor?

[I just thought it was funny and said it casually, I never expected it to go viral.]

【Ha ha. 】

Casgar: "."

He was doomed.

However, he also had something to say.

You, the emperor, aren't much better!

They created a whole bunch of prototypes with psychological and mental illnesses, and now I have to take care of them!

Bringing one is one thing, but after bringing one, you have to bring another one.

This is even better. Since Corax is the kind of good kid who's absolutely fine, I'll also push Perturabo and Mortalian towards my side!

Are these guys all capable of welcoming the Primarch's return?
Are you really not worried that Corax, seeing a combination of a mentally ill person and a freak with no personal hygiene, will still choose to willingly abandon his savior and join the Empire?
Ah!
Casca's head started hurting again.

Why these two?
Before any of the Primarchs planned to rebel during the Great Crusade, Kasgar believed he could predict the future course of events using his magical flames or his prophetic knowledge from reading the script in advance.

But Peturabo and Motalian think differently from normal people!
First of all, neither of them likes psionic powers; Mortalian even despises them.

Even if Kasgar used his power to heal Danteok, Kasgar's favorite war blacksmith, he might be met with another barrage of insults instead of gratitude.

Why did you try to stop the survival of the fittest among the Iron Warriors? These stupid, useless trash who've been hit by the alien aging ray should just be given a piece of land to die slowly on their own.

That doesn't make sense, it just doesn't make sense!

There's no way to raise even the slightest bit of favorability towards Peturabo.

As for Mortalian
This kid isn't a bad person at heart, although he can be a little stubborn at times and likes to deliberately contradict others.

Fortunately, his cognitive abilities are generally normal, except that he likes to smoke some original poison gas from Barbarossa, which makes his personal hygiene questionable. In fact, Mortalian is quite normal at the moment.

An absolute materialist, even born into the filthy alien castle, he still displayed his rebellious spirit, rallying and leading his human followers to steadily advance against the alien enemy's fortress, gradually securing victory in the war.

(Actually, Angron is the same, but why is it treated differently? I'm wondering.)

They immediately boosted the Emperor's favorability.

The problem is that Kaska possesses psionic abilities.

To a Primarch like Mortalian, who was extremely opposed to the use of psionic energy, his view of Kasgar's psionic flames was essentially the same as Kasgar looking at Magnus.

This guy is playing with fire!
They don't take "Imperial Truth" seriously at all!
This is no ordinary wizard; we have to use our full strength!

Furthermore, Mortalian's entire life trajectory from birth was a path predetermined by the evil god Nurgle.

Whether it was the planet Barbalus where he initially landed, or his encounter with Typhons, the Nurgle cultist lurking beside him, or his eventual imprisonment in the warp with the Death Guard and his insane vomiting, it was all part of the Nurgle Project.

Now it's too late for Casca to save them.

He already regarded Typhon as his other father, so what difference would it make if Casca said anything more?

What if one day someone kidnaps you and takes you into the subspace, and the navigator is killed along with you? Wouldn't you just end up as a hero who eats up history?

Can we escape? We can't!

Kasgar felt that any other traitorous Primarch could be pulled back.

But Casca felt that these two were absolutely hopeless.

Even if the Emperor thinks Mortarion can save him, he'll have to go to Nurgle Gardens himself to retrieve him.

Casca, waiting in the landing zone, could only stare speechlessly at the magnificent golden ceiling of the [Emperor's Pride] flagship.

Given all this, what else can he do?

We can only take it one step at a time, but at least we need to protect Corax from being affected by these two people.

Ugh!
I finally made it to the reward stage, and now they're going to increase the difficulty.

Is this some kind of dynamic balance difficulty?

This old man, Huang.

Nothing.

The thought of having to place the centaur gold ring on Horus's finger in front of everyone, under the watchful eyes of all the Primarchs, instantly dispelled most of the pent-up frustration in Kasgar's heart.

The sound of the landing craft engines blasted incessantly in Casca's ears.

The roar that came from afar indicated that the aircraft had escaped the vacuum environment and entered the interior of the Emperor's Pride.

call out--

Just as Casca had anticipated, after passing through the airlock, the landing craft spewed out a powerful blast of air from the side entrance and cut into the center, completing a gentle landing at the designated location.

Judging from the aircraft's iron-gray paint and the fact that all the exterior windows were closed, it seems more like Peturabo's vehicle.

Peturabo
Kasgar ran the name through his mind, even though he had never actually seen the Primarch of the Iron Warrior Legion in reality.

But his name had already been etched in his mind long before Casca was even brought in by dump trucks.

Difficult.

The side door of the ship opened, and just as Casca had expected, the steel giant with a heavy shadow between his brows walked straight out of the landing craft's hatch.

Following him were not only the war blacksmiths, but also the iron ring automatons that moved according to the data nerves behind his head.

"Welcome, Lord of Iron."

Fugrim stood before the many sons of the Emperor, clapping and celebrating.

"Thank you for waiting, sister Fugrim."

He nodded slightly to Fugrim.

"Motalian's ship is right behind us; that guy is always a step behind."

Although Peturabo's attitude towards other Primarchs has never been very good.

At the same time, Peturabo also respected artists and fine artists.

He was still willing to befriend Primarchs like Fugrim.

Of course, if it were a real architect like Dorn, he wouldn't be so polite.

Those in the same industry are often rivals.

Shortly after he landed, another gray, white and green landing craft followed suit and landed.

The meeting was held in the conference room at the bow of the Imperial Pride ship.

After passing through the ornately decorated Phoenix Theatre and the Triumph Road, Peturabo looked noticeably better.

Perhaps the empire wasn't as terrible as he imagined.

There are some people in this world who understand architecture and aesthetics, although they are far too flamboyant and lack the ability to restrain their desires compared to Peturabo.

Flashy!

Too many meaningless decorations, too many fancy carvings and ornaments; it doesn't look like a battle flagship for an expedition at all.

It looks more like a yacht used for vacations by corrupt officials.

Compared to his perfect war machine, the Imperial Pride may be ingeniously designed, but it still cannot escape its owner's rejection of aesthetic enjoyment outside of war.

Therefore, it is always slightly inferior to his Ironblood.

What a pity. What a pity.

His siblings were all unable to achieve perfection for various reasons, while he, the only one who could come close to this goal, was always envied and ostracized.
The pathetic people clamor that only Roguedon is the most brilliant tactician, that only Roguedon knows how to deploy troops, and that only Roguedon knows how to build fortifications.
These mediocre people were unable to comprehend the profound meaning he wanted to express through his architecture.

Alas, the world is going to the dogs, and people's hearts are no longer what they used to be.

So sad, so sad.

Peturabo gazed at the magnificent, purple-gold-painted archway of the Triumph Road and couldn't help but utter such sentiments.

Why did the Peturabo brothers, after seeing my architecture, smile, shake their heads, and sigh?

It's strange that he wouldn't answer me when I asked him what he thought of these buildings.

The team's in-game voice chat channel from Fugrim posed this question to Kasgar.

As the product of her years of research at the Jupiter Shipyard, the Imperial Pride has always been her masterpiece.

[I don't know, maybe it's because he can't pinpoint the shortcomings of your flagship.] Who can really know what Peturabo is thinking?

He's probably mentally battling with the Void of Roguedorn again.

The interior of the Emperor's Pride flagship is absolutely gorgeous; perhaps it is such a beautiful existence that gives them enough visual shock.

As the silent Perturabo and Mortalian entered the conference room at the bow of the ship, the legion leaders each took a seat in a corner.

"The first step is to welcome the new prototype."

"This is a sacred mission bestowed upon us by the Emperor, and it is the first time that the Emperor has entrusted this task to the Primarch to oversee its completion."

Fugrim was naturally very honored by this.

This is the first time in history that the head of the Emperor and the Empire has been able to welcome the newly returned Primarch.

This was undoubtedly a glorious moment for the son of the emperor.

"But even a combined fleet of three legions must have a hierarchy. When we go to greet them, please allow me to volunteer that the Emperor's son, who is most skilled in etiquette and ceremonies, should serve as our guide and mentor for the return of the new Primarch."

As a member of the Imperial Guard who had accompanied the Emperor on his campaigns, the son of the Emperor was naturally more suitable to handle political tasks such as the return of the original body.

In fact, Fugrim was also puzzled as to why the Emperor would send the unrelated Iron Warriors of the Assault Legion and the Death Guards, who used biological weapons tactics, along with them.

One tin can, one poison can
Is this really meant to welcome the Primarch, or to scare them away?

"I agree with Fugrim's proposal."

Perhaps Mortalian liked to argue, but he wasn't stupid; he knew that only the emperor's son could handle such ceremonial duties.

After all, you can tell just by looking at his own appearance.

A pale, thin, and seemingly frail person like myself is certainly no match for the second most beautiful princess in the universe.

But out of the corner of Mortalian's eye, he seemed to see that Peturabo was eager to try.

He must have some new ideas.

He wore a gloating expression over his mouth beneath the respirator.

Watching a play.jpg
"Your Legion is indeed very well-versed in etiquette. Fugrim, I cannot deny that."

Peturabo said.

"but--"

OK, but here comes the turning point.

"I do not trust a legion that entrusts its fate to a legion controlled by a sorcerer, and I will not choose to act based on so-called prophecies."

As he spoke, his gaze, along with that of the Iron Ring Automaton behind him, fell upon Kasgar, who stood beside Fugrim.

“Forgrim, as one of the Primarch brothers and sisters, I am willing to remind you of this.”

"Do not rely on untrustworthy wizards, no matter how deep your bond may have been."

No one knows how time will change a person.

Perturabo's gaze remained fixed on Kasgar, who was standing next to Fugrim.

"Therefore, our Iron Warrior Legion refuses."

Is this targeting me?
Casca felt a strange sense of unease.

Wait a minute, shouldn't the first person to attack me when I'm playing psionics be Mortalian, that absolute anti-psionicist?

Why did Peturabo choose to fire first?

Okay, let's just say that for now.

“Lord Peturabo, I have served the Emperor’s son for over a hundred years since the Emperor descended upon Chemos.”

"Among them, he fought alongside numerous Primarch Legions and, as the Chief Lord Commander of the Emperor's Son, participated in hundreds of battles, large and small, during the Great Crusade, without failing in any of them."

Although it may seem that no major battles were fought, in the great era of the Great Expedition, when the emperor himself still traveled the world and led the troops, there were simply no major battles that were threatening enough.

However, interstellar travel takes a long time each time, and the garbage time from subspace travel makes it even longer.

Conquering a galaxy already requires weeks of preparation, not to mention the need for sweeping and relocation across star sectors.
In short, from the beginning of the Great Crusade until now, Kasgar has performed flawlessly in every campaign he has been able to participate in, to the point that even Fugrim has nothing to criticize.

As for the strange spiritual power in his hands...
"The Emperor once spoke with me privately about my power and advised me to retain it."

"If Lord Peturabo has any further questions, I'm afraid I cannot answer them."

Don't ask, the Emperor has already given his permission.

“Good.” Perturabo sneered. “To so blatantly bewitch so many Primarchs in the name of prophecy and use psychic power to modify their legions.”

"Casca, do you know what you're doing?!"

"You mean I can't yet doubt your witchcraft?"

His words became increasingly vehement.

Perhaps seeing that this commander, the son of the emperor, dared to stand up and contradict him, Peturabo's tone became even sharper.

"My abilities are the embodiment of the Emperor's will; to doubt my own power is to doubt the Emperor's will."

Casca continued to use the Emperor as a cover for itself.

No matter what you say, the emperor has agreed.

The Nicaea meeting hasn't even started yet. Even if he really used psychic power, would Peturabo really bring charges against Kasgar because of that?
Emperor: "I have no objection."

The Emperor thinks Casca is good, so what are you still arguing about?

"Incomprehensible."

But he just kept his mouth shut.

If his own war blacksmith dared to stand up to him like that, he'd probably be stuffed into the Dreadnought the next second.

Or, like Danotik, send them to a remote planet to fend for themselves.

How dare you talk to me like that? Is your legion's fearlessness wholesale?
But Kasgar is the commander of the Emperor's Sons, and also the husband of the Primarch Sisters.

Their status was far higher than that of ordinary Space Marines.

Although it's still not as good as the original body, it's enough to prevent him from losing his temper at will.

“Brother Peturabo, I understand your concerns about psychic power.”

"But in the return of the new Primarch, Casgar did not give our army any instructions for the future, nor did he require any additional psionic rituals."

Seeing this, Fugrim smiled and stepped in to smooth things over.

However, when the topic of "psychic magic rituals" came up, all that appeared in Forgrim's mind was the image of someone standing atop the hive, chanting incantations—

Centaur Gold Ring

Centaur Gold Ring

Centaur Gold Ring

My God, is this what he meant by a large-scale witchcraft ritual?
"I have reservations about this, Mortalian. What do you think of the Emperor's Son's use of witchcraft?"

“Brother, I’ve never liked those guys who play with fire and get burned when it comes to witchcraft.”

Motalian said, seemingly enjoying the spectacle.

In any case, he was absolutely opposed to any form of psionic power—aside from navigators, he believed that the human empire had no need for any form of psionic beings.

In the end, they didn't even need navigators anymore (meaning they were all killed by Typhon).

"I've heard that none of the Emperor's sons are psionic users, except for this man named Casgar Sherlock."

"and many more."

As Motalian continued his eloquent speech, following Peturab's lead, his words suddenly froze.

His eyes also became insecure, filled with hesitation and evasion.

He suddenly looked down at his fidgeting fingers, then looked up again and repeatedly scrutinized Kasgar standing behind Fugrim. He repeated this action several times.

Until he spoke again in disbelief:
"Are you even human?"

Numerology.

A feng shui divination mysticism with Barbarossa characteristics.

Although Mortalian has always been vehemently opposed to psionic powers, in the process of opposing them, he also dialectically studied psionic knowledge and came up with a unique algorithm that does not require the involvement of psionic powers (in his view, it is unnecessary) – numerology.

This is not psychic power; it's a unique science!

It's exactly the same as someone who claims they're not a god.

Even without the involvement of psychic powers, it is still possible to make predictions about future events through mathematical calculations.

Mortalian has always had deep confidence in his numerology.

With the help of this mathematics, he arranged his [death shroud] to never deviate from their original body by a distance of 7*7=49 steps.

He believes that as long as he can still use numerology, he can handle most situations he encounters.

As for whether it's actually effective...
It's hard to say there isn't.

—He figured out that Kaska was not actually a human.

Bold monster!

I can tell right away that you're not human!

But that's really strange.

If Casca isn't human, then what is he? Mortalian scrutinized the Space Marine in his magnificent power armor, completely at a loss.

This person is a Space Marine who has been completely modified by the apothecary. If he were not human, how could he have survived the apothecary's clutches?

That is
His numerology is flawed!
"!"

Motalian was horrified.

This is something he absolutely, absolutely, absolutely cannot accept!
“I am a Space Marine. My surgery was performed in secret by the Emperor, which may make my powers more powerful and mysterious than those of other Astartes, and this is also a gift from the Emperor.”

"If you still don't believe me, our pharmacist has all my physical data, which I believe can prove my innocence."

Of course, it has nothing to do with pointed ears.

Haha.

Ha ha.
"If the two Primarchs still have doubts about my identity and abilities, I am willing to answer them for you without reservation."

This is not a good sign.

Before even meeting Corax, how come I'm being targeted by these two henchmen right from the start?
Casca was a little annoyed.

Is numerology really that accurate?
You can tell at a glance that he's not human. No, he's not magical!

Who just said numerology is accurate? Seriously.

“I didn’t mean anything by it. The psionic think tank is not violating any rules within the Legion.”

Peturabo has started attacking himself again.

"However, I just want to remind you that as the leader of a legion, you should think about problems with a completely rational and pragmatic attitude, rather than making inappropriate concessions to others for the sake of some emotional attachment."

"By doing this, you will only give your legion another true master."

However, when he said this, Mortalian beside him seemed to glare at Peturabo with displeasure.

You little bastard, there's something hidden in your words!

The more I listened, the more something seemed off. It felt like they were talking about Mortalian.

“Thank you,” Forgrim said, maintaining his polite smile. “Shall we move on to the next part of our discussion—?”

"No. I'm sorry, sister, what Casca said just now did pique my curiosity."

Peturabo extended his steel hand in refusal.

His eagle-like gaze was fixed on Kasgar behind Fugrim.

"Since that's the case, I'd like to ask Commander Casgar if he could make a prediction about our next move?"

(End of this chapter)