Horus: The Emperor Doesn't Love Me Anymore (3K)

Inside the Gloriana-class Super Battleship named Vengeful Spirit, a large man with slightly thinning hair, but whose handsome features were still undeniable, was taking a nap on the bed.

As the viewpoint expands, you'll find the room filled with densely packed parchment, and even the Dataslate bearing the Atlas logo is badly worn, exuding an atmosphere of corporate slavery.

Horus Lupercal, the First Returned Son, Legion Commander of the Moon Wolves, the elder brother of all Primarch, the Wolf Shepherd God, and countless other titles were bestowed upon this towering giant.

But only Horus himself knew that his most important title would always be Sagittarius, the constellation his father spoke of.

But for some reason, after a busy day, having reclaimed a human world and reviewed the legion's administrative affairs to make the next expedition plan, Horus suddenly felt a surge of energy.

Even in his sleep, he would occasionally furrow his brow.

In the dream, Horus, dressed in magnificent armor, walked into the Imperial Palace amidst the loving gazes of his brothers, cheering and applauding as everyone celebrated.

A grand banquet began, and the Emperor, seated in the center, asked, "Children, guess who is my proudest offspring?"

"Horus, Horus, Horus is Father's proudest son."

"Indeed, Horus is not only your proudest son, but also our best elder brother."

All the Primarchs eagerly answered, and even the Custodians who were at odds with the Adeptus Custodes couldn't help but nod in approval, looking at the ruthless god of the Empire with satisfied eyes. Despite the overwhelming support, Horus showed no arrogance or complacency; he had done so much to win the Emperor's approval.

And now he has done it.

As expected, seeing everyone calling out Horus's name, the Emperor smiled with satisfaction.

I wish I could be the river, so that we could meet again! Horus would never forget that smile. They were not only father and son, but also warriors and brothers with deep affection.

"Horus, my proudest child, on the day this place returns to Terra, your name will echo throughout the entire Himalayas. My child, are you ready?"

"I'm ready!"

As soon as he finished speaking, the Master of Mankind, dressed only in a linen robe, stood up and, under the expectant gazes of everyone, began to give a passionate speech, gesturing wildly.

Horus etched every word and phrase into his mind. He knew this was the groundwork his father laid for bestowing upon him the title of Warmaster.

Soon, the Emperor's speech ended, unlike the two and a half hours of passionate sermons in reality. After all, this was a dream, and even Horus had experienced enough.

As the final tremor rang out, the Emperor proclaimed in a loud voice:

"I hereby declare that the Imperial Warmaster will be my most proud son, Mordred!"

No sooner had he finished speaking than a figure with thick blond hair suddenly darted out, kicked Horus in the buttocks, knocked him to the ground, and threw him into the Emperor's arms.

"Horus, you're just a backup plan. I'm Father's proudest son, and I'll steal all the Emperor's fatherly love from you, hehehe!"

After saying this, Mordred snatched Horus's Centaur Ring and repeatedly stomped on his face, while the Emperor turned a deaf ear and silently watched all of this.

Seeing the Golden Laurel Wreath symbolizing the Warmaster Position placed on Mordred's hair by his father, Horus could no longer control himself and instantly let out a piercing roar:

"No! This isn't true. In what way am I inferior to him?"

Horus, jolted awake, gasped for breath, wiped the cold sweat from his brow, and unconsciously stroked the Centaur Ring with his fingers.

"Ah~ it was just a dream, that scared me to death."

"It must be because I haven't been resting well that I had such a terrible nightmare. Mordred is a really good person, except for being a lazy bum. There's no way she could be so vicious. Yes, it's all just my imagination."

After some self-consolation, Horus returned to being the revered Wolf Shepherd God and resumed processing the official documents.

Not long after, a figure burst into the room and opened the door. It was none other than Fulgrim, who had accompanied the Moon Wolves on their expedition.

If Mordred were there, he would have slapped him, but Horus was different. He truly treated all Primarchs as brothers, perfectly embodying what it means to be a responsible older brother who genuinely cares for his younger siblings.

"Fogg, how many times have I told you, don't be so flustered. You are the Primarch of the Empire, mind your image."

Also, stop messing around with those colorful little dresses of yours; you're not Perturabo, these things don't suit you.

Having long been accustomed to Horus's sermons, Fulgrim did not refute them, but instead picked up a newspaper and slammed it on the table:

"Stop talking about me, look at this! My Second Brother has become the Imperial Warmaster. I knew I was right."

What? You must be joking!

As Horus picked up the newspaper and stared at the full-color photograph of the Emperor, Mordred, and Lion El'Jonson, Horus worst fears came true.

"No, this isn't true. I must return to Holy Terra, no, I must go to Serenity myself to see what's really going on."

Fogg, you'll help me command the fleet. If there's anything you don't understand, Sanguinius and the others will help you.

If they can't solve it either, Ferrus will be here soon. Just listen to him then; Ferrus is quite reliable.

Horus hastily handed over command to Fulgrim, and under the guise of rest and replenishment, he went on a rampage, smashing countless unfortunate Warp sprites.

Fulgrim was amazed by this peculiar turn of events, but what excited him even more was that he could finally command the fleet and even mobilize the Moon Wolves.

"I just don't know what kind of person Ferrus is. I hope he's not like Dorn, a stubborn rock."

Before long, Fulgrim saw Ferrus, whom Horus called reliable. After a brief chat, Fulgrim disliked this brother who reeked of engine oil.

Especially his short, unkempt hair, which hadn't been styled in a long time, made Fulgrim suspect he hadn't showered, and the smell was indescribable. Out of a strange obsession, Fulgrim, who was a bit of a germaphobe, simply couldn't stand it and dragged Ferrus to the bathroom.

"Brother, what are you going to do?"

"What are you doing?" Fulgrim suddenly remembered the scene of his first meeting with Mordred, and a wicked thought arose in his heart. He slapped Ferrus's incredibly strong thigh.

"Of course it depends on whether your development is normal or not. Don't even think about coming out until you're properly cleaned."

As a typical straight-laced engineer, Ferrus didn't understand what these words meant, but he didn't want to hurt his younger brother's good intentions, so he was half-heartedly dragged into the bathroom, where he witnessed a scene that left him completely baffled.

All sorts of gorgeous long dresses were neatly arranged in the wardrobe. If others saw them, they would surely praise how precious the fabric was, but he only thought of using them to wipe machine oil.

"Oh, this is a gift for Perturabo, don't overthink it!"

"I see. No wonder these dresses are so huge. Since they're a gift for Perturabo, that makes much more sense."

Having dispelled his doubts, Ferrus stopped thinking about it and jumped into the bathtub with great enthusiasm to wash away the grease. To be honest, he had forgotten when he last took a bath.

I only vaguely remember that on the day he returned to the empire, the Emperor kicked him into a washing machine and spun him around for two days before releasing him.

Looking at the pool of water that had turned completely black and ugly, now shimmering with iridescent colors, Fulgrim felt even more that his brother was terrifyingly cunning, and immediately summoned the four-headed Dog-men he had tricked into coming from Serenity.

The dog's glossy, exquisite fur was meticulously groomed, and the soft essential oil and stiff brush it carried made Ferrus feel a tightness in his anus. He quickly asked, "Brother, I know these are Dog-men, but I understand the logic. Why are these four Dog-men looking at me with such lewd eyes?"

"Hahaha, don't joke around. These four Dog-men are the Canid Four that I trained at great expense. Each one has its own unique skills and fighting spirit. Their patience and fighting spirit are amazing and will make you want to stay forever!"

What are you waiting for? Get started now!

No sooner had he finished speaking than the powerful Dog-men named Canid Four plunged into the pool, pulled out their secret weapon—a giant brush—and instantly captivated Ferrus, leaving him Primarch mesmerized.

"Wow, that's powerful! I never imagined taking a bath could be such a pleasant experience, though the pressure is a bit too light!"

"Small?"

These words directly stung Canid Four's heart. As a special talent with some fame in the tribe, who loved massage and bathing, what he couldn't tolerate most was being told that someone was weak. It was the same as calling someone a piece of trash.

An unparalleled and intense humiliation spread through his heart, and a tangible, crimson rage burned wildly, engulfing his eight dog paws as they pounded furiously.

"How about that, was that powerful enough?"

At this moment, Ferrus was already enjoying himself immensely, could only let out a soft groan to express his satisfaction.

Outside the bathroom, listening to the slightly muffled sounds of his own Fulgrim, and the laughter of the Iron Hands mixed with heavy breathing, he couldn't help but frown.

Meanwhile, Mordred, standing at the porthole of the Abomination, frowned as he looked at the withered, yellow Holy Terra, which was nothing like the Earth he remembered.

"It doesn't feel as Serenity as it does!"

"Shut up, the ocean on Terra has been sacrificed, only the lake in the Mariana Trench remains."

As for other aspects, do you think being Warmaster is so easy? Get back to work!

The Golden Giant was engrossed in playing games while looking at the Dataslate, slumped onto the sofa, looking like a good-for-nothing who had lost all his ambition. Even Mordred himself felt that this guy was overflowing with humanity.

But Mordred ignored this unusual scene, remembering the Emperor's promise that he would receive half of the profits.

"Don't worry, I'll strip them bare, bit by bit, until they regret ever being born. Mobilize!"