The Shadow of Colchis

"Abaddon, you can eat whatever you want, but you can't say whatever you want. I'm an Imperial Warmaster, what's wrong with me eating a little something? If you don't say anything, I won't say anything either."

Who would know?

Then let me ask you, if I hadn't been forced to do something I couldn't stand, would I be here secretly eating?

Inside the Vengeful Spirit, Abaddon, a member of the Council of Four Kings, was quite helpless. Ever since Mordred came to Moon Wolves, his father had arranged for him to serve as a guide for the former Warmaster.

To be honest, Mordred has a very good image in the eyes of many Space Marine. After all, he is known for being protective of his own and was the first Primarch to propose the establishment of Space Marines seats in the Council of Terra.

But the greatest distance is that which is longed for; it was only after reaching it that Abaddon discovered it was not like that at all.

This kind uncle was indeed kind, and his strength was beyond the heavens. In just one encounter, he showed all the Moon Wolves what the ultimate personal Combat Power was. He was like a humanoid Titan, and wherever he went, people died.

Abaddon would swear on his honor that he had personally witnessed Mordred blow up an enemy fortress with a single spit and kill countless Xenos. However, his personality was the complete opposite of his strength. He was greedy, lazy, cunning, and sly, vain, and stubborn, with dirty hands. He had absolutely no resemblance to the Primarch.

Watching the two children, one big and one small, showing off their fruit in the kitchen, Abaddon thought there was one more thing to add: they were just as gluttonous as the Great Angel.

Last time, because of hosting the Blood Angels, the Sanguinius ate all the fruit and supplies on the Vengeful Spirit by herself.

If you ask Abaddon why he didn't call for help, he'd have to swallow the pineapple in his mouth.

"Second Uncle, isn't what we're doing a bit inappropriate?"

"What's wrong with it?" Mordred swallowed the whole durian, skin and all, and realized he seemed to have a particular fondness for this kind of stimulating food. He quickly grabbed two more and handed them to the Khan, who was standing next to him, so that he could take them back for the boys to enjoy.

"Abaddon, do you know why I brought you here? For no other reason than because I find you pleasing to the eye."

"Wasn't it because you held a knife to my throat and forced me to come?"

"How dare you talk like that?" The Khan was also stuffing his face, spat out the fruit peel and slapped Abaddon's spiky braid.

"If Father hadn't intervened, Moon Wolves would have lost countless men. It's just some fruit; aren't you eating some too?"

Eat quickly, we only have three minutes left. The patrol will be here soon. Today's secret code is "Sibi Sibi," which means every 12...

There will be a patrol every few minutes.

Abaddon thought about it and agreed, but he was more curious about how the man knew so much about his own security system. It was clearly something Sanguinius had stolen from the Dark Angels; even his own people sometimes couldn't figure it out.

Inside the pitch-black cabin, three figures carrying sacks darted back and forth, always managing to slip into every blind spot of the surveillance cameras, leaving Abaddon questioning his existence. Finally, they arrived at the Atlas base.

In just half a month, Atlas turned this barracks into a mess, completely unrecognizable as a military camp, and even a rare Dog-men set up a stove there.

"Torgaddon, what are you doing here?"

Looking at the shocked Abaddon, Tarik Torgaddon, the Second Company Captain of the Moon Wolves, smiled and continued kneading the dough.

"Actually, Father has been having nightmares lately and wants a midnight snack. You know, our chef only knows how to make that damn Starry Sky Pie, claiming it's a secret recipe passed down from Old Terra, but that stuff is inedible."

Torgaddon's explanation was reasonable and well-founded. Even Atlas, who was not picky about food, would not eat such a Dark Cuisine, which is why Horus now eats special meals every day.

They almost exhausted Rambo and his pack of big dogs, forcing them to start training apprentices.

As the exceptionally delicious durian Cherry Dumplings were served, the two Moon Wolves and the Black Knight Guard devoured them with gusto. Seeing everyone enjoying themselves, Mordred, having nothing else to do, took the portion of dumplings and said she was going to go for a stroll and deliver them to Horus on the way.

When the enticing aroma of dumplings was placed before him, even Horus couldn't help but sigh, "The food at Atlas is truly nourishing; I'm almost gaining weight. I'll fire those cooks when we get back."

Because of the different legion cultures, their food cultures also vary greatly. For example, Mordred likes to dip dumplings in chili sauce, Magnus likes to dip them in sugar, Horus likes to soak dumplings in Reika Coffee.

"Brother, to be honest, I haven't been feeling well lately. I keep having nightmares, and I often dream about a scene that's hard to talk about."

"The scenes are too embarrassing to talk about, let me elaborate." Since stepping down Warmaster, Mordred has felt incredibly relaxed, able to eat an extra 200 pounds at meals.

He just likes to listen to random, irrelevant things.

Perhaps it's because Mordred possesses a fragment of herself, or perhaps it's because Mordred inherited the Emperor's powerful charisma; in any case, for Horus, who is also Great Astartes Doctrine, Mordred is a close and trusting brother.

I dreamt of a figure that looked exactly like someone else, but not exactly the same. Can you guess who that person resembled?

Mordred didn't even want to say anything. He had already seen enough. Ever since he came to the Soul of Vengeance, Horus had been fiddling with his Centaur Ring every day, showing it to him as soon as he opened his eyes. Who else could it be?

"Horus, you're ill, you need treatment!"

"Even if you respect and love Old Man Huang, you can't have dreams like this. As the saying goes, what you think about during the day, you dream about at night. You mustn't be that Filial Rebellious Son. Even I can't accept this. It's making me want to call him."

"No, you have to believe me." Although Horus did indeed worship the Emperor, he wasn't a pervert. He immediately stated that he was absolutely not mistaken; the figure in his dream was definitely not the Emperor, but someone else entirely.

Mordred didn't believe it, but Master Mordred was soon proven wrong.

Although he was nominally dismissed and banished to the Great Crusade by Moon Wolves, it was just Smoke Bomb. Mordred didn't even bring his own Abomination; instead, he only brought the Black Knight Guard and the New Higurashi, doing everything he could to deceive them.

After all, if Mordred's actions were truly made public, let alone his Collusion with Chaos, Atlas would be nailed to the Pillar of Shame simply for Collusion with Xenos.

But fate is so ingenious. Not long after Horus recounted his dream, Moon Wolves arrived at an Ancient Battlefield, a place filled with ruins and shattered stars.

Through a brief archaeological excavation, they discovered that most of the humans in these worlds died in brutal civil wars, and even the final victors chose euthanasia. Only one message, which had not been sent out 3,000 years ago, survived:

"For Colchis, for the Human Federation, humanity will never be enslaved! Let us all go to the underworld together, you damned Demons!"