Mortarion clutched the red mark on his face, utterly bewildered.
The Emperor—his father—had not despised xenos and urged him to rebel and kill Necare?
Why had he now joined forces with Necare? And the two of them seemed to be on very good terms.
The way things had developed was completely beyond his expectations, so much so that he had no idea what to do.
In the Emperor's words, his xenos adoptive father, Necare, was Barbarus's good leader, who had led xenos and humans alike in resisting the Lord of Pestilence.
While he had lost his mind, betrayed his adoptive father, and, under the Lord of Pestilence's temptation, raised a rebellion that had caused the deaths of far too many humans.
He was simply a traitor to humanity, the shame of the Primarchs.
He had failed the Emperor, failed his adoptive father, failed Barbarus, and failed this planet's guardian deity—the Lord of Hell, Diablo!
This was wrong!
Mortarion was trembling all over, his head buzzing.
He vaguely sensed that things were not like this. Where exactly had it gone wrong?
Was this still Barbarus? Was this still the Tyrant Emperor? Where the hell had I been dragged to?!
Yet before Mortarion could keep thinking, the lashes came raining down on him. The sharp pain and regret left him no way to think any further.
"Unfilial son!"
"If I don't beat you to death today—do you know what you did wrong?!"
His xenos adoptive father, Necare, and the Emperor spoke with righteous severity, and the Seven Wolves double team was that fierce.
The poisoned whip and golden belt cut through the air with explosive cracks, leaving deep wounds on Mortarion's body.
They were not only wounds of the flesh, but trauma to the soul, making his pain and fear grow ever