Horus: Rogal Dorn is far inferior to me, let him

Horus: Rogal Dorn is far inferior to me. Let him see what the art of war really is!

"Perhaps you should shut your mouth."

Horus faced Mortarion's abuse as Warpfire flared up from his terrifying daemonic body, his voice like sharp claws scraping across the entire area.

If it had not been wartime, he would have taught that brother of his the meaning of reverence!

Horus still retained his reason and restrained the anger in his heart.

He stared at the Death Lord and said slowly, "The setback before us does not affect the overall battle, my brother. You need more patience..."

What this Dark Emperor did not say was that the elite plague force led by Typhus had been nothing more than bait.

He had played with the Imperium defenders, drawn their attention, and manipulated the deployment of forces on the battlefield.

The true attack was hidden in the shadows and had already reached the core area.

Of course, the Imperium defenders' attack had been so fierce, devouring the bait in one lightning-fast bite, that it had surprised him a little.

Horus knew that Mortarion would swallow this bitter fruit, and might even have wished for it to happen.

After all, Typhus had repeatedly defied his orders, and had even competed with him for favor before the Lord of Pestilence, challenging that petty brother's position.

That brother of his could not stand being slighted most of all. If not for the Lord of Pestilence's indulgence—or perhaps obstruction—he would likely have finished off that rebellious son long ago.

Horus saw all of this clearly. While manipulating the course of the battle, he had also conveniently helped that brother resolve a small problem.

He controlled the way the situation developed.

"If you cannot break through The Savior's defensive line, I will