42: Malcador's Sharp Critique of the Peerless Lion
Konrad Curze Curze silently flipped through the paper documents in front of him, his expression serious.
He wouldn't say he enjoyed the "reading" experience; flipping through so many paper documents by hand only made him miss Roboute Guilliman's new Dataslate more and more.
Moreover, in reality, most of the documents sent by the Departmento Munitorum and the Administratum are just useless piles of data. Although their leaders say they will provide any assistance, so far, the assistance they have provided has been completely useless.
Curze frowned, puzzled as to why these two important departments on Holy Terra were still using handwritten records—didn't they have the Cogitator Array?
The commander of the Eighth Legion put down the documents in his hand and raised his hand to press his temples.
The smooth touch sent a shiver through him; he often did this when he was tired—pressing either his brow or his temples. But in either case, he couldn't feel his own body temperature or the skin depressions that most people would have.
He was cold and lifeless, his face deathly pale; from that perspective, Curze would gladly call himself a dead man.
He smiled at this twisted sense of humor that he didn't easily express, and then briefly released the suppression of his prophetic abilities.
A veil as light as mist drifted in from the darkness, wrapping around his eyes and changing everything. Once again, he saw a group of Shadow clad in midnight-colored armor.
They wandered through the shattered galaxy like Ghost, silent and filled with rage. The curses and blood of their enemies were their constant companions; they had almost become inseparable from death.
Of course he could see it; why wouldn't he?
He possessed a cursed talent that allowed him to see many ambiguous and indistinct images. The Emperor bestowed it upon him, but Curze showed no gratitude for it.
Using this talent is like walking unarmed and barely clothed on a dark forest path; you never know what lurks in the shadows. Is it a venomous insect that will cause excruciating pain, or a ravenous beast?
Konrad Curze Curze opened his eyes, deciding not to watch any longer. He didn't know where this Great Crusade would lead humanity, but he believed that human effort could change anything.
He lowered his head and continued flipping through the documents.
His efforts and time paid off. One hour and forty-three minutes later, as the sky outside the window gradually turned into a hazy darkness, Curze finally found something somewhat interesting amidst the turbulent flow of data.
He picked up the paper, his brow furrowed. The room fell eerily quiet for a moment, save for the Primarch's calm breathing.
"We must indefinitely suspend this investigation into the Dark Angels. They are not bound by law, nor are they subject to the control of anyone except the Emperor or the Sigillites, and our investigation has never been supported by the Departmento Munitorum. I understand the doubts and anger of my colleagues regarding Captain Rodrigo's death, but we are no longer able to continue the investigation."
"The Dark Angels have already sent three warnings, and I'm certain they won't send a fourth. As your superior, I order you to immediately cease all investigations into Captain Rodrigo's death and to seal and hand over all related documents to me. No copies are permitted; violators will be prosecuted for treason."
"However, as an Imperial Army and one of your colleagues, I am equally deeply saddened by Captain Rodrigo's death. I assure you that as soon as the fighting ceases, I will immediately submit all the relevant information and urge my superiors to reopen the investigation."
"The corruption within the Sol System is not yet apparent, but you and I both know what those officers and governors far away are up to. The Sigillites cannot ignore this; he will surely use the Emperor's mandate to eliminate these people. At that time, the truth behind Captain Rodrigo's death will likely come to light along with the deaths of these people."
"I swear to the Emperor and all those with a sense of justice that I will preserve all the information until the time is right. If I die in the war that follows, my descendants will preserve it for me. My family will regard your findings as my remains, and the day when the truth is revealed will surely come."
The Night Haunter squinted and began tapping his fingers on the table.
--
"Your investigation will face resistance from many sides, and it is bound to be difficult. But by 'many sides,' I don't mean those intricate, multi-layered departments, but rather Lion Eljonsson's legion."
Malcador paused for a moment, then continued the conversation in a very peculiar tone.
"He was a shrewd, capable, and extremely dedicated man. To achieve the goals his father had entrusted to him, Johnson made some modernizations to his army."
Modernization—that's the descriptive term Malcador used, but the tone he used was not normal.
Karyl couldn't help but feel a little puzzled. Although he understood the complex feelings and attitudes of the Sigillites towards Primarch, such an evaluation of Lion Aljonsen was truly rare.
Malcador had just described him as shrewd, capable, and responsible in his opening remarks, but then he subtly and sarcastically criticized what Macardo had done to his own legion.
"Are you puzzled?" The Sigillites asked, leaning on his scepter and looking up, without any surprise.
"Indeed, there are some," Karyl said. "You seem quite generous with your praise, but why do you describe his transformation of his legion in that tone?"
Malcador's face, hidden beneath his hood, gave an unmistakable smile.
"Because he only does his job with utmost care," the Sigillites said. "Primarch like Roboute Guilliman or Fulgrim are aware that they possess a face devoid of humanity. They may see it as a means to solve problems, or they may reject it deeply."
"But, regardless of the type, they all enjoy using speeches or smiles to uplift people's spirits. Johnson is different; he doesn't do either of those things."
"His leadership stems from his decisive action and an air of mystery that he is not fully understood. I would praise his success at work and at the level of warfare. Beyond that, I have no other comments about him."
Karyl thought for a moment.
"That's quite an insightful assessment," he said. "So, in other words, you think Lion Aljonson would find our investigation offensive, even repulsive?"
"It could even be worse." Malcador laughed again, a laugh that was utterly baffling given his usual demeanor.
"He's a very proud man, or rather, arrogant. This arrogance stems from his confidence in his own abilities, and also from his pursuit of the so-called 'eldest son' status—commanding the First Legion, yet not being the first eldest son to return. Isn't that interesting?"
The laughter of the Sigillites echoed in the empty hall, sounding almost like mockery.
"Our great the Emperor would rather entrust wave after wave of power, enough to destroy the world many times over, to these children than let them be properly honed into adults before carrying out this task."
"Honestly, Malcador," Karyl said slowly, "I'm starting to wonder if you've come to disapprove of any Primarch. You only demand things from them, never praise them. It sounds just like our great the Emperor."
"They deserve to be treated much harsher," the Sigillites replied sternly. "As for him, he only spoils them, and many still feel that's not enough."
Karyl shook his head and said nothing more. His thoughts had drifted far away as he began to ponder the possible scenarios that might arise during this investigation.
Malcador wasn't one to make alarmist claims; at least his assessment of Perturabo was entirely accurate, even somewhat mild. Given this precedent, Karyl believed he had to take Malcador's words seriously, even if they sounded mocking.
The problem is that Malcador dislikes mocking others, and his own wisdom is far beyond the reach of ordinary people.
Since he said the investigation might escalate further, Karyl had to adjust his mindset. It's normal for those being investigated to feel resentment and disgust towards those investigating them, but if it escalates to another level, things might not end well.
But
"Perhaps we should raise the Emperor's banner before even officially starting the mission," Karyl said thoughtfully. "I haven't met Johnson, but from your description, he probably harbors some kind of special feeling towards the Emperor, just like the other Primarch. He might be furious about his brother's investigation, but what about his father's demands?"
"I won't comment or speculate on this. His personality is too unpredictable; I'm not sure what will happen. I can't let my judgment influence you."
The Sigillites shook his head solemnly and cautiously, raised the scepter, and tapped the ground. A point of light appeared, forming a special mark in his hand, which he handed to Karyl.
"Just go ahead and do it. In short, Lion and his legion have been forced to sacrifice a lot of people over the years. Some did see things they shouldn't have, but others did nothing wrong, they were just doing their duty."
"Based on my investigation, this culture of extreme secrecy within the Dark Angels is likely deeply entrenched. Be prepared, Karyl, this won't be a pleasant experience."
"Since I returned to this world, nothing has been pleasant," Karyl replied softly.
I finally finished writing it. I had a fever all day today, so I'll write another 3,000 words to complete today's update. I'll pay back the 5.5,000 words I owed yesterday in one go after I recover.