Warhammer 40: Doom

Chapter 311 Hey! Old man.

As Dorn approached the landing site, he found the scene before him to be far different from the welcoming ceremony he had imagined.

The empire sent a large number of people to greet them, and the welcoming ceremony was quite grand and solemn, but it lacked something.

The Primarch withdrew his outstretched foot, turned and walked into the room, gesturing for silence to the excited, kneeling staff, and then closed the door behind him.

He walked to the window, drew the curtains to hide himself, and used his fingers to lift the curtains, peering through the gaps to observe the situation on the landing field.

On the landing site, the Nur shuttle landed, and a Night Guardian and an Iron Man stepped out.

The newcomer was dressed in white power armor, wielding a black-bladed spear, and had a giant orc skull hanging from his waist.

He was tall and straight, with thick eyebrows and big, piercing eyes. There were scars on his cheeks, which added to his cruelty and bravery.

“Champion Swordsman – Harlan Ogrivy.” Dorn murmured, reciting the name of the sworn brother’s protector.

With his keen insight, the Primarch saw a lingering, bloody aura emanating from the Champion Swordsman.

The bloody aura was extremely violent, enveloping Harlan Oglie.

Dorn didn't think much of it; within the palace, evil would be dispelled by the Emperor's Light, and he simply attributed it to some kind of special talent.

Seeing that no one else emerged from the shuttle and no new shuttles landed in the air, Dorn glanced at Iron Man, furrowed his brow, and left.

If his brothers arrive, he will show up to greet them even if he is not on the welcome list.

The fact that his brother's bodyguards had come was not enough for him to greet them; their statuses were worlds apart, and especially in diplomatic settings, one had to be mindful of the proper etiquette.

Roger Dorn came and went quickly, moving through corridors and shadows without attracting much attention.

He paid little attention to political events, instead heading to the Imperial Fist headquarters to instruct the new recruits on their training, preparing them for the Great Crusade to unleash a heavy iron fist against humanity's enemies.

As Harlan stepped out of the shuttle, he felt a fleeting gaze, but before he could find its source, an imperial official approached him.

"Welcome, distinguished guest." The diplomatic official bowed deeply, performing a soldier's salute, and welcomed Nur's guests in fluent High Gothic language.

Sensing that the gaze had disappeared, Harlan stopped searching and said to the diplomat in front of him, "I need to see the Imperial Chancellor."

His tone was calm, concealing his inner anxiety.

Doom has been away from the real universe for many years and has not returned. In desperation, he came to the Empire to ask the Emperor if there was any way to help.

"He is waiting for your arrival." The diplomat nodded, raised his hand to welcome the group into the inner court, and led them to the Ministry of the Interior.

Harlan nodded and led Iron Man Turing to the Ministry of the Interior.

In reality, he wanted to meet the emperor as soon as possible to get direct access to the emperor's ears, but the circumstances did not allow him to do so.

The Emperor himself was very busy, sometimes personally participating in the Great Expeditions, giving strategic command, searching for his son in the galaxy, and maintaining the Star Torch to provide navigation.

As the Great Crusade progressed, the Emperor returned to Terra and lived a secluded life.

Unless absolutely necessary, he rarely appears in public as he used to.

In the past, Astartes legion commanders or company commanders could meet with the Lord of Man if needed, but now it is very difficult to do so.

The imperial administrative structure gradually improved, taking over many powers from the emperor. Matters that once required his personal decision-making were now handled by specialized agencies.

Harlan didn't know why, but he had a feeling.

The Emperor himself is consciously weakening his influence within the human imperial regime.

He set off, together with the Iron Brothers, escorted by Lucifer's Black Guard, toward the residence of the Imperial Chancellor.

Surrounded by the group, Harlan's eyes darted back and forth, searching for that extremely oppressive gaze from before.

After a fruitless search, they finally turned their attention to the scenery of the palace.

Compared to my first visit to Terra, the security in the royal palace was much tighter, and the number of people coming and going was dozens of times greater.

The space orbit is even busier. Not to mention other regions, the Lionsgate Spaceport, which receives important visitors from other parts of the world, has a higher density of shuttles than data points.

Most striking is the enormous, polygonal spaceship, shaped like a mace head, hovering directly above the palace.

"What's that?" Harlan pointed to the sky and asked the receptionist.

The diplomat smiled and proudly introduced the shadow that obscured the star: "Mountain Array, Seventh Legion - Imperial Fist Operations Base."

He straightened his chest and walked alongside Nur the swordsman, catching a glimpse of his facial expression out of the corner of his eye.

Once upon a time, the Void Solitary, the flagship of the Lord of the Stars, was officially recognized by the Empire as the largest and strongest warship in human history.

The most powerful warship in human history, yet not belonging to the human empire, naturally evokes both love and hate. With the return of the Mountain Array, discussions about the most powerful warship have become popular on Terra, comparing it to the Void Solitary.

In terms of size, the Mountain Array, with its polygonal design, is a whole size larger than the Void Solo, which has a rectangular hull.

However, it's hard to say about their firepower.

The cannon shot, drawing upon the power of a star and capable of destroying Mars, left a deep impression on the people of the Empire.

This forced the Martian Mechanicus to sit down at the negotiating table and sign the Stellaris Accords.

“Mountain Array?” Harlan nodded softly, his face as calm as still water, much to the diplomat's disappointment.

He raised his head and carefully observed the warship, which was much larger than the space fortress.

The hull of the Mountain Array is covered with undulating metal structures resembling mountains, as well as a bridge and weapon towers that tower like mountain peaks, filled with vertical lines, spires, arches and huge flying buttresses.

The large gun array, laser gun turrets, and torpedo tubes are densely distributed on every plane and side of the hull, as numerous as trees in a forest.

These weapon platforms themselves resemble small fortresses.

Harlan saw the massive spaceship, the Champion's Blade, when it docked at Lionsgate, initially mistaking it for a fortress or orbital defense platform.

Then I saw it start its engines and adjust its attitude at high orbit, and I was surprised to realize that it was a magnificent warship.

On the dome of the Mountain Array, which points straight to the starry sky, there is a round window the size of a main battleship, with a yellow glass background, and inside the round window is a clenched black fist.

"Imperial Fist..."

Harlan silently noted down the Mountain Formation and the legion that possessed it, and without saying anything more, headed to the Prime Minister's residence.

Along the way, the guides changed batch after batch, with their authority levels getting higher and higher. Finally, the escort mission was handed over to the Imperial Guard.

"It's getting more and more complicated," Iron Man Turing complained impatiently. "From the moment we landed, we had to change vehicles and walk for hundreds of kilometers. There were a total of 400 security checkpoints and 1,300 hidden sentries, both overt and covert."

Turing turned to the Imperial Guard, saying, "In the end, I'll need you all to accompany me."

The Imperial Guard glanced at the Iron Man, surprised to find that the number of visible and hidden sentries he had described was not far off from the actual number.

He couldn't help but wonder whether the Iron Man had intentionally or unintentionally revealed this information.

Iron Man's seemingly complaints about overly dense security actually hint at a fact: he can calculate defense vulnerabilities.

The Imperial Guard, without looking to the side, slowly said, "Everything that exists is necessary; even if it seems unreasonable, it has withstood the test of actual combat."

"Hey~~~~"

Turing blew a cold whistle, and just as he was about to continue speaking, the sensor behind him triggered an attack alarm, causing him to stagger forward.

Harlan kicked it in the rump and warned, "Don't cause trouble. The Imperial Guards are also soldiers who uphold their duties. You must respect them."

Harlan found one thing perplexing about his Iron Man brother: Turing treated the Nur people and the Imperial personnel with drastically different attitudes.

Two completely different attitudes can be expressed through a single event.

After reprimanding Turing, Harlan turned to the Imperial Guard and explained, "It's not good with words, but what it meant was that there might be some loopholes in the security."

The golden-armored warrior nodded, gripping his weapon tightly. "No defense is perfect, and we are constantly improving our security to better protect the Lord of Humanity."

The group fell silent again, and the Iron Man's heavy footsteps pounded and crushed many floor tiles.

Harlan kicked it again and warned it with his eyes, which finally made it behave.

They arrived at the prime minister's residence under the escort of the imperial guards. It was already late at night, and the guide was changed from the imperial guards to eunuchs.

Harlan walked into the inner garden and saw Gu Lou's figure. His expression changed, and he raised his eyebrows and growled, "Hey! Old man!"

Under the pavilion, Makado shuddered, finding the shouts particularly jarring, and gripped the scepter tightly in his withered hand.

His lips twitched, and he squinted at Harlan, responding with even harsher sarcasm: "This dinner I prepared is better served to the common people than to you, who would rather have it eaten by your stinking mouth."

Harlan didn't stand on ceremony. He sat down opposite Macado with an imposing air, took a small bite of the steak, and sarcastically remarked, "Terra's food is really awful."

“It was sent by your Nur.”

"That's so delicious!"

Macardo's fists clenched beneath his robes, the composure on his aged face vanished, and he pursed his wrinkled lips, a surge of urge to punch someone rising within him.

(End of this chapter)