Perturabo: So Love Disappears, Does It

The abrupt declaration, "I am Rogal Dorn," instantly killed the interest of the two, one big and one small, who were conspiring against each other.

Even Malcador plopped down, completely unlike his previous shrewd and calculating demeanor. He was so stiff that he opened his mouth and closed his eyes, looking like a senile old man.

The reason the Arch-Magos was in such an awkward position was none other than the fact that the person standing in front of the door was the Primarch of the Imperial Fists —Rog Dorn!

Rogal Dorn, the Primarch of the Imperial Fists, is known as the Imperial's Resilience King, Construction Twins, Cute Duo, and Atmosphere Destroyer.

Khorne's Lifelong Enemy, the Ultimate Wall, and a host of other infamous titles.

After all, not every Primarch can Hard Control Chaos God for four hundred years. Holding the head of his Tenth Brother in his left hand, carrying Angel-chan in his right hand, and with his half-dead Old Man on his back, he can still walk as fast as lightning.

Because of his early return, Rogal Dorn, with his unyielding charisma, took over the construction projects of the entire Solar System, far surpassing the little brat Perturabo. He even supervised the construction of the Imperial Palace of Terra.

The harsh winds of Inwit forged Rogal Dorn's resilience, while his grandfather's kindness illuminated his childhood. Among all the Primarchs, Rogal Dorn is a truly inspirational figure. Moreover, this guy even has a Pocket Imperium, making him a product of his own investment.

Almost all Primarchs were either fathers searching for their sons, pulled out from under chairs by the Golden Giant, or blasted out by Tom using Stormbird. Only Dorn found the Emperor himself by piloting the Mountain Array.

Most importantly, Cute Duo is Fealty Fealty, to the point that even the Emperor is afraid of him. Coupled with his bluntness and ability to kill with a single sentence, everyone who has met him is unwilling to communicate with him; it is a form of torture.

Looking at this tough guy, Mordred was stunned for a long time before he managed to utter half a sentence:

"I am Mordred Wayne, Imperial Warmaster, your Second Brother (°,°)"

"(m) I am Roger Dorn, Terra Guard ---"

Mordred waited Dorn waited, thinking that Dorn hadn't finished speaking, only to see him posing with his incredibly defined jawline, staring at him with wide eyes, just like a robot.

An incredibly awkward atmosphere filled the room. Malcador pretended to be dead, Mordred pondered, and Dorn was nowhere to be seen. The three of them stared at each other strangely, while Sally reached into Mordred's pocket and secretly took two candies.

Finally, Mordred was looking to both sides with her eyes fixed on either side, couldn't hold back any longer. She found a chair for Dorn to sit down and spoke first to ease the awkwardness:

"Brother, I remember you were sent on the Great Crusade by the Emperor, how come you're suddenly back in Terra?"

"The enemies around Tallarn have been eliminated, so I returned, only to find you wreaking havoc on the court." Still sparing with words, Dorn, having finished speaking, transformed back into his stubborn rock, staring intently at the two.

Such a stiff exchange made Malcador sigh, and he directly said:

"Dorn, the Assassinorum is necessary. There are always those little bugs hiding in the gutter trying to cause trouble, and the Council needs ways to deal with them."

Where there is sunlight, there is shadow. The Emperor has already borne too much, and I am the sharp blade that clears away his shadows.

Seeing that he was about to retort, Malcador immediately pulled out his cane and slammed it hard on Mordred's head, as if to say, "If you dare to speak, I'll kill your brother."

"No, you should hit him, why are you hitting me!"

"That's exactly what I'm going to do." The Arch-Magos of the scepter reached out and patted Mordred's head, gritting his teeth as he spoke:

"It's all because of you, you bastard! I was supposed to handle a few typical cases, but instead, you killed half the officials, and in the end, all the pressure fell on me. You did a really sloppy job."

That's undeniable; Mordred is treating noble officials like pigs to be slaughtered, creating a climate of fear among everyone.

"And you, if you can't speak properly, then shut up. What do you mean by 'disrupting the court'? Do I even need to disrupt the court?"

"I found all your fathers, and I carry this vast empire on my shoulders. Why don't you come to the Department of Administration, and I'll go on an expedition?"

"Hey, Lao Ma, what are you saying? You're the Imperial Weightlifting Champion, don't be angry, come on, have a smoke."

Mordred quickly removed Malcador's cane, pulled out a box of Ryk 2nd Gen and handed it to Sally, while also putting a gas mask over Sally's head to protect her from secondhand smoke.

As three plumes of smoke rose, Dorn, Mordred, and Sally sat obediently according to their height, listening to Malcador recount his plans— the Judiciary for Supervising Officials, the Field Assassinorum, and the intricate political structure that left them bewildered.

"I have a feeling that this strange old man and that Emperor have more than just a simple ruler-subject relationship. It's like those comics in your room..."

What's your name, Little Mala?

This sudden remark drew everyone's attention. Seeing Sally's outrageous words, Mordred quickly covered her mouth.

"The child is naive and accidentally blurted out the truth. Malcador, please continue. We won't laugh at you."

Before Mordred could finish speaking, he saw Malcador's face darken, and crackling arcs of Psychic Power appeared around him. With a Psychic Power punch, he blasted the three of them away.

As the door closed automatically, Mordred looked at Sally, who was huddled beside him, and lifted up his outspoken teammate, lecturing her:

"Don't say everything in the future; just keep it to yourself. Also, read less of those inappropriate books."

"That's right, those things aren't really suitable for someone your age." Dorn's tone remained cold, but Mordred had grasped the key point.

"Well, Roger Dorn, so you're a bit of a brooding pervert! But then again, Dorn, would you be interested in studying the world's greatest architecture with me?"

Upon hearing the keyword "greatest architecture, "Dorn's interest was instantly piqued, and his passion for civil engineering Burning Fiercely.

What is that?

"Of course it's Astronomican. I need to build a faster-than-light communication device that can be used by the Empire. Otherwise, why do you think I'm working for Malcador? It's because I haven't accumulated enough skill points."

Dorn certainly knew about the Astronomican. It was a relic passed down from the Dark Age of Technology, and it was thanks to the Astronomican that Imperial ships were not lost in the depths of the Warp.

Wherever the Astronomican shines, humanity will not be scattered across the galaxy like it was in the Old Night Era, becoming an isolated and helpless pocket world.

But the outspoken Dorn never considers others, and his thoughts never linger in his mind for even half a second before he blurts them out without thinking.

"So, Mordred, are you planning to start anew and establish Second Imperium?"

"Don't talk nonsense, I didn't!"