The Marshal's Grand Birthday Celebration

"Lord Horus, you summoned us?"

Walking into the strategium at the bow of the Vengeful Spirit, Second Captain Torgaddon of the Lunar Wolves knocked on the door and asked.

Several days had passed since the 63rd Expeditionary Fleet had cleansed and purged the entire Dalinite Nebula.

With the xenos in the nebula broken and annihilated one by one, aside from a small force left behind to maintain order, the bulk of the expeditionary fleet had successfully returned.

They were about to follow the Vengeful Spirit back to Holy Terra, as the Emperor had commanded.

Now, the eight Primarchs who had successfully returned would gather deep within the Imperial Palace on Terra to discuss a matter of utmost importance.

And Horus, the First Returned Son, along with his Lunar Wolves, would naturally not miss this grand occasion.

During this return voyage through the Warp, the Primarch Horus had suddenly summoned all officers of the Lunar Wolves above the rank of Company Captain to this meeting room for a discussion.

"Mm."

Seeing the other Company Captains following behind Torgaddon, Horus stood and replied.

The Eye of Horus at the center of his Pearl White battleplate still saw all things, a symbol as noble within the Legion as the black wolf pelt on his shoulder.

Horus, beloved by every one of the Lunar Wolves, now furrowed his brow.

"You've all heard about the Acting Prefect of the Sons of the Emperor, Kasgar, defeating the xenos on Silent Star, haven't you?"

Ah.

So summoning all the Company Captains was for this?

"Hah, Lord Horus, you could have said so sooner."

"We've gone and prepared a gift for your inauguration as Warmaster, and now we can't even give it to you."

Torgaddon said jokingly, and as a burst of laughter followed from behind him, Horus's expression shifted to one of surprise.

"Warmaster?"

"How did you come by this news?"

"How? Lord, from Holy Terra to the farthest reaches of the Imperium of Man, this matter is all the rage."

"I doubt we even need Astropaths to communicate; the whole galaxy is talking about who will become the Warmaster of the Imperium."

Ever since it became known that the eight existing Primarchs would return to the Imperium simultaneously for a meeting, a rumor—that the Emperor would elect a Warmaster during the conference—had been fermenting throughout the Imperium of Man.

Some busybodies claimed this mass return of the expeditionary fleet was the Warmaster going back to pay the Emperor a "grand birthday tribute."

Not only that, but even among the crew of the Vengeful Spirit, betting pools were running on "Who Will Become Warmaster."

"Of course, your loyal servant bet ten Aquila Coins on you."

Torgaddon gave an exaggerated bow, drawing another round of laughter.

"Tarik (Torgaddon's given name), but I heard you also bet on other Primarchs?"

Even Company Commander Abaddon, Torgaddon's closest friend, teased him about it.

"Well, that's only because the bookmaker was too ruthless. He said since all us Lunar Wolves were betting on Horus, he couldn't run the game anymore."

"I had to balance things out—"

"Alright, Captain, that's enough."

Horus smiled. He swept his gaze across the assembled Company Captains, finally settling on the somewhat nervous newcomer.

The Power Armor on him—Pearl White inlaid with amber Eye of Horus emblems—gleamed like new, clearly meticulously maintained.

The newcomer had a handsome face, a few freckles, and his hair was the common grey-gold of Khorosnia, cropped into a buzz cut.

But judging by his ramrod-straight posture and tense facial expression, he seemed a bit too... "resolute."

"It seems we have a new face among the Captains."

"This is our newly appointed Tenth Captain, Gavril Loken." Torgaddon stepped forward to introduce him. "I told him to relax, but he's still a bit stiff."

"An honor, Lord Shepherd of Wolves!"

As if following a command, he opened his mouth and let out a thunderous battle cry.

Then came a perfectly executed military salute, showing his respect for the Primarch.

This was definitely the longest burst of laughter the Captains had ever shared.

It got everyone cracking up.

"Please, Captain. There's no need for that."

Even Horus himself couldn't hold back his smile.

In wartime, the Lunar Wolves' discipline was as sharp as a fierce yet intelligent wolf pack.

But now that the fighting was over, the Lunar Wolves naturally returned to being a harmonious family.

All Legionaries, all battle-brothers, would coexist peacefully here.

At least for now.

"Let's get back to business."

Horus adjusted his expression and tone of feigned laughter, then turned toward the massive projection device behind him.

"Captains, you all fought well in the xenos cleansing campaign of the Dalinite Nebula."

"As members of the Lunar Wolves, your battles have proven the glory of the Sixteenth Legion."

He paused there, then suddenly shifted his tone: "But it's not enough."

"The battle between Kasgar and the Sons of the Emperor on Silent Star has made me uneasy."

"Back when I was the only Primarch under the Emperor, I took great pride in my status as the First Returned Son."

"That thirty-year lead made me believe my achievements and my Legion would far surpass those of my later siblings, that I would inevitably become the most trusted elder brother in everyone's eyes."

"But it seems none of my brothers and sisters are simple."

For the soon-to-be-appointed Warmaster, Horus, though he considered his merits and labors substantial, dared not claim certainty.

"Philus, who has the closest ties to the Adeptus Mechanicus and commands countless heavy firepower; Rogal Dorn, the master of defense with the Mount Array; and the recently returned Lord of Five Hundred Worlds, Guilliman, the son of war."

"They are all formidable rivals in my competition for Warmaster."

Horus paused.

He could not ignore him.

That most powerful, and also most likely, Primarch to be elected.

His strongest competitor.

"And that silent Lord of the Second Legion."

His siblings were indeed accomplished.

But perhaps a little too accomplished.

It left him, who considered himself the elder brother, feeling somewhat at a loss.

"Are you wondering what this has to do with Kasgar and the Sons of the Emperor's battle on Silent Star?"

He let out a heavy sigh.

"I have to admit, Kasgar and his men far exceeded my expectations."

"Even the Third Legion, which I once thought nearly impossible to rebuild, might in the future be built by him and Fulgrim into something even more terrifying and powerful than ours."

As he spoke, the projection device behind him shifted, displaying images of several xenos warships.

"This is footage left by the Adeptus Mechanicus personnel stationed on Silent Star."

"The invading xenos fleet was enormous at the time. Even though they lacked Void Shields as defensive measures, their super-heavy firepower and durable hulls were still no match for the Lunar-class ships left on guard."

The projection changed to Silent Star's surface, covered in toxic miasma.

Countless Crystalline Constructs, resembling xenos, were deployed from the warships to the ground, firing at the Sons of the Emperor's defensive fortifications.

"Hmph, nothing major."

Abaddon was clearly unconvinced.

"If I were to lead five hundred Gatlings (an elite Space Marine unit of the Lunar Wolves) with proper preparation, I could hold the surface defenses just as well."

"Perhaps you could," Horus nodded.

"But what if I told you that Kasgar not only held the line but also launched a counterattack, and didn't even deploy a single Space Marine company?"