13th Month: Wolves, Angels, Ravens, Bats (V)

"They say Russ's offspring will devour their dead enemies. I tell you, that's utter nonsense, Corax."

Horus spoke in a serious and earnest tone, and then began to speak at length.

"This is pure rumor, tantamount to slander. I don't even know where such absurd and laughable rumors came from. Perhaps some mortals didn't understand the savagery displayed by the wolves in battle, and thus fabricated these stories after the war. There's never a shortage of such terrible stories within the Imperium, which is why I've always vigorously promoted the system of Remembrancers."

"I wish every company in my legion could be equipped with a Remembrancers. Mortals cannot understand us because they cannot walk with us. But these Remembrancers, with permission, can come among us, record our true nature, and then send it back to mortals. In that way, what barriers will remain?"

The Cthonia let out a satisfied sigh, his smile genuine and natural. Kolaus Corax, sitting opposite him, however, showed little excitement.

His black hair was loose and hung down over his forehead, and his eyes, as black as agate, held not only a thoughtful look, but also an unmoved indifference.

Horus sighed inwardly.

The conversation had been going on for over an hour, during which he introduced Corax to many Primarch and their Legions, while his young brother remained largely uninterested.

Don't get me wrong, Colius Corax was indeed listening attentively to Horus, but he rarely offered his opinions and spoke only a handful of times. Moreover, he didn't seem to agree much.

This indifference almost escalated into aversion, especially when Horus spoke of the differences between mortals, Astartes, and even Primarch. Horus, of course, didn't understand why his brother was acting this way, but he didn't intend to ask now.

There is ample time.

He began to think, considering what topic he should choose next.

The conversation between Sanguinius and Karyl Lohars didn't seem to be over yet, and he had to do his best to stabilize the situation before they came out of the inner room. Besides, the Emperor's departure was also a problem.

Horus, of course, had no idea what his father was going to do, but it must have been something very important, so important that the Emperor was willing to temporarily interrupt his conversation with Corax.

Thinking of this, he couldn't help but look up at Corax.

The latter's skin, now gleaming like alabaster under the light, possessed a warm, translucent texture; Horus could almost see his brother's blue veins through it.

Such anomalies are rare in mortals, but almost negligible in Primarch.

Horus chuckled at his own thoughts.

He shook his head, sighed with a hint of self-deprecation, and deliberately spoke in a rough, deep voice. "You're all the same, Corax."

"Um?"

The alabaster statue looked over in confusion; this was the first time it had ever displayed such emotion.

"It's nothing. I was just temporarily tripped up by my own mediocrity," Horus said half-jokingly. "Look, Sanguinius has wings, Lion El-Jonson looks as majestic as Lion El'Jonson, and so do you. You have a peculiar kind of beauty. And me?"

Corax didn't speak, but silently turned his gaze to the top of Horus's head.

The Cthonia were slightly taken aback, then burst into laughter.

"I thought you had no sense of humor, brother," Horus said gently after the laughter subsided. "Looks like I was wrong."

"I do," Corax said. "It's just that I don't use it often. Using humor to tell jokes or tease others is a dangerous thing in my world. Most of the time..."

He lowered his head and shook it in a pensive manner. Horus, however, felt greatly encouraged.

He had finally managed to get Kolaus Corax to open up, which was no easy feat. But every beginning is difficult, and now that he had taken this step, nothing could stop him from building a good relationship with Corax.

"How are you most of the time, brother?" Horus asked, sounding a little impatient.

"Um"

Corax didn't begin to reveal his thoughts as he expected. He simply opened the silence with a muffled nasal tone and didn't continue his narration until a good ten seconds later.

Horus perceived this time as lasting several hours.

"I don't know how to tell you this." After a moment of silence, the Primarch of Blackeye spoke hesitantly. "It shouldn't be told here."

Horus couldn't help but frown.

He suddenly felt that his brother's voice sounded so sorrowful it was almost infuriating, and his attitude made him want to grab his shoulders and shake him a few times.

However, Horus suppressed his anger. He even took a few seconds to compose himself, chose a new topic, and decided to talk about it in a more relaxed tone.

He was determined to have a serious talk with Corax today; he wanted to figure out what was lurking in his brother's heart, making him appear so melancholy even during this long conversation.

Unfortunately, Horus did not get this opportunity.

The door to the inner room opened, and two giants emerged from it amidst the whirring of machinery.

The bright red tear stains still lingered on Sanguinius' face, stretching from below his eyes down to his chin. They had faded, but were still easily noticeable.

The contrast between Sanguinius's skin tone and the tear stains was as striking as a sword held across someone's neck; it was hard not to notice.

Horus quickly abandoned what he had been focusing on and glanced at the angel with a worried expression. Sanguinius smiled at him, and at that moment, the angel acted as if nothing was amiss.

"I apologize for keeping you waiting, Horus," Karyl began. His voice was remarkably calm, as if nothing had happened. "And this one... Kolus Corax?"

The alabaster statue nodded silently, and Horus inevitably noticed that Corax's expression was somewhat strange at that moment.

"It's a pleasure to see a new Primarch return to the Imperium." Karyl's voice softened slightly. "Oh, right, I haven't introduced myself yet. Please allow me to tell you my name. I am Karyl Lohars, from Nostramo."

"The same to you--"

Corax glanced quickly at Sanguinius, or more precisely, at the wings behind the angel. His voice was as soft as Karyl's, but his enunciation was clearer.

"--One of us?"

"No, I'm not."

But you're very tall.

"My height is a result of psionic growth, which is quite rare. In fact, I think I might be the only one like me in the entire Milky Way," Karyl said carefully.

To achieve a complete explanation, he even had to invent an obscure phrase on the spot. Fortunately, the person he was explaining to was able to quickly grasp the meaning of the word.

Corax nodded and said no more. His attention was temporarily diverted to something else.

Sanguinius raised an eyebrow and gently flapped his folded wings. He didn't find it offensive; in fact, he was used to it.

The angel smiled gently and spoke in a melodious voice, "My name is Sanguinius, brother."

"Your Wings"

"It's true," said Sanguinius. "However, I must tell you, they are really very bulky."

Will it allow you to fly?

"Yes," the angel answered patiently.

Unconsciously, he adopted the patience that an elder would show when facing a younger person.

If it were an older brother in an ordinary family facing his younger brother, this would certainly be fine, but they were, after all Primarch. Horus, watching from the sidelines, couldn't help but feel a chill for Sanguinius.

In the minds of the Cthonia, all Primarch possess a strong sense of self-respect. Even those who seem most indifferent will argue vehemently with anyone who tries to express their opinion in a field they are skilled in.

However, Corax was not angry.

"Thank you for your answer," said the alabaster statue. "In the past, when we launched uprisings, we always hoped for help from the air. The sky is a place most people don't look up at, and I often thought that if I could fly, perhaps I could save more people from bloodshed and sacrifice in the fighting."

Sanguinius' expression turned serious.

Corax's words resonated with some of his own beliefs—that the Blood Angels had now completely broken free from their savage and cruel state of darkness. But before they became "Blood Angels," they were monsters known as "ghouls."

The Sigillites, Malcador, even went so far as to refer to the Ninth Legion as the "Ghost Legion." This wasn't so much a sign of contempt or disdain as it was a clear description of the actual situation.

At that time, the Ninth Legion was even ostracized by other Imperium forces, and even logistics personnel were unwilling to provide them with weapons. These experiences were inextricably linked to the ghouls' past practices.

The wars they waged were all extremely bloody atrocities, bordering on depravity and evil. Sanguinius devoted a great deal of effort to completely reverse this situation.

He was even willing to spend several years teaching ghouls how to reclaim a planet without bloodshed.

Angels never shy away from bloodshed and sacrifice, but they hope that such things will be as infrequent as possible.

The less, the better.

"Indeed." Sanguinius approached Corax and extended his right hand. "But a struggle cannot be without bloodshed, don't you think, brother?"

Corax nodded slightly, a fleeting smile crossing his face. He extended his hand and shook hands with Sanguinius without much hesitation. Horus watched this scene silently, his expression somewhat complicated, but he said nothing.

Standing beside them, Karyl took everything in without comment. He lowered his head slightly, a fleeting, unseen Blue Radiance flashing in his eyes.

--

"New recruits?"

Sevatar's thoughts were interrupted by an elegant and pleasant voice. He looked up and saw a handsome face. Sevatar glanced at those deep blue eyes and nodded imperceptibly.

"Your instructors only brought one recruit aboard the Emperor's Dream?" another man asked, his voice deep and heavy, almost like a hammer striking an anvil.

Sevatar narrowed his eyes, suppressing his harshness, and nodded to the man with a normal smile, "I haven't been in the army long, I'm a cousin, but I'm not some new recruit."

"Please forgive Fakus, brother," the first man said sincerely. "He's always been like this, not very good at chatting, but he's not trying to belittle you. Actually, we're both just a little curious about you. You look a bit too young."

Sevatar raised his hand, touched his face, and finally couldn't hold back any longer. He grinned, displaying the Night Lords' usual smile with his head tilted back at the other person, "According to you, I should go and cut myself a few scars?"

The man smiled.

"Alright." He shook his head slightly, a hint of regret in his voice. "My name is Azkaellon, from the Blood Angels. This is Fakus Keiber, from the Luna Wolves."

"I've heard so much about you," Sevatar said insincerely. "It's an honor for a lowly recruit like me to stand alongside you two. Oh, I seem to have forgotten to introduce myself? My name is Jago Sevatarion, from the Midnight Blade."

The Blood Angels and the Luna Wolves exchanged a glance.

"What?" Sevatar raised an eyebrow. "What does this mean?"

"Just a little surprised." Azkaellon laughed again. "You've perfectly inherited the style of the Eighth Legion, Lord Sevatarion. You've always been like this, ruthless in tactics, and never one to mince words in everyday life."

Fakus Kabo nodded, then raised the name of someone who wasn't present in a deep voice.

"Like Adebiman Basley. He was lying on a stretcher, almost choking on his own blood, yet he still managed to spew out a string of curses and obscenities to insult your enemies."

He looked at Sevatar, his gaze level yet somewhat sharp, but his speech was very slow.

"Is he still alive?" Fakus Kabo asked.

Sevatar fell silent, unsure whether he should tell the truth—in other words, he didn't know whether Fakus Kabo was happy to see Adebiman alive or wished him dead.

"What do you think?" After a few seconds of silence, Sevatar lightly kicked the ball back.

"My rational mind tells me he can't be dead," Fakus Kaber said. "He's a tough nut to crack."

"That's a novel way of putting it, a tough nut to crack?"

"Gang jargon," Fakus explained calmly. "So, Sevatarion, is he still alive?"

"He's alive and well; he's now the adjutant of the Third Company."

"Thank you for your explanation." Fakus nodded. "If there's a chance, please tell him that Fakus Keiber of Luna Wolves wishes to continue their sparring match from back then."

"I will," Sevatar said.

He couldn't help but ask himself: What's wrong with these veterans? How come they all seem to be provoking people from other legions? Logically speaking, weren't they always operating alone back then?

"Then—" Azkaellon continued, "... let's end this small talk here, Your Excellency Sevatarion."

"Um?"

The Blood Angels gestured sternly at him. "Perhaps you'd like to stand up a little straighter."

His words were tactful and puzzling, but Sevatar immediately changed his posture, straightening his back and naturally adopting a sharp, saber-like stance. Immediately afterward, a series of rapid footsteps came from the other end of the Emperor's Dream's wide corridor.

Sevatar stared intently, and a cluster of shimmering gold gleamed on his retina.

The Nostramo people suddenly felt a sharp pain in their eyelids—dozens of seconds later, with the arrival of the golden-armored guards, the three Astartes standing in front of the conference room door all stepped aside and lowered their heads, showing extremely obvious respect.

There were no fools present; everyone knew what seeing so many Adeptus Custodes acting together on the Emperor's Dream meant. Sevatar held his breath, his head bowed, a shiver running through his exposed skin.

The armor of the Adeptus Custodes clattered against each other, but no one uttered a sound. A footstep sounded from behind them, growing ever closer, each step feeling as heavy as if it were striking Sevatar's two hearts.

He lowered his head, unconsciously clenching his teeth, and the footsteps finally stopped at that moment.

"Raise your head," a voice said. "No need to be so reserved. What kind of soldier hangs their head like that?"

Sevatar quickly raised his head; he didn't need to turn his head to know the other two's movements—they raised their heads just as quickly as he did.

His retina caught sight of a giant among giants a fraction of a second later, who was undoubtedly taller and more dazzling than the Primarch.

A majesty far surpassing perfection surged across his face, and despite this majesty, Sevatar sensed an inappropriate gentleness in his gaze. He opened his mouth in astonishment, trying to say something, but the man had already nodded to them before he could.

"Azkaellon, Fakus Kebo, and you, Jago Sevatarion."

"You know my name?!" Sevatar heard a voice filled with shock and surprise; it came from Azkaellon, who had always seemed so at ease.

"What reason do I have not to know?" the Emperor said, seemingly smiling, yet not quite. Then he turned and called another name.

"Pull." He spoke calmly, a single syllable, a simple gesture, yet it exuded supreme authority, compelling people to unconsciously try to obey.

Sevatar nearly changed his name on the spot, but he still had some sense; he knew the voice wasn't calling him. An Adeptus Custodes stepped out from behind the Emperor, his red tassels fluttering on his head. He looked at his lord, silently awaiting orders.

"Take these three soldiers to the rest area and let them rest for a while. I will be spending a considerable amount of time with my son and friends afterward, and I don't want them to waste their energy here."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

Sevatar and the other two followed the Adeptus Custodes away, brushing past the Master of Mankind, his fingers trembling. Behind him, the Emperor's gaze was distant and meaningful, but it didn't last long.

The ship's owner quickly looked away, pushed open the door, and entered the conference room.

I spent the whole night coding, had a low-grade fever, and my efficiency was extremely low.

I slept too long during the day and can't fall back asleep, so I'm going to go back to sleep now. I'll catch up on the rest when I wake up. Let me calculate: I owed 10,000 yesterday, and 6,000 today, totaling 16,000. That means I still owe 11,000.

I hope I can pay it all back.