17. The Visitor Was Not Alone

Fulgrim casually picked up a chess piece with his finger and moved it two squares to the other side of the board. It was a "Warrior" piece, its surface rough, the warrior's face blurred.

The person who created it clearly didn't intend for it to have a face; in fact, it's so heavy it hardly feels like a chess piece.

The person on the opposite side of the chessboard pondered for a moment before raising his hand to move one of his pieces. The broad, thick hand covered in golden scriptures moved the "Priest" a full six squares.

Fulgrim smiled in surprise, sat up straight, and tucked his long hair behind his ears with both hands, his expression becoming serious.

"A risky move," Phoenix said seriously. "Your chess skills have improved quite a bit lately, brother."

As he spoke, he grasped another warrior, tapping its Warhammer repeatedly with his index finger. The heavy steel chessboard echoed dully with each tap, and Lorgar Aurelian paused in thought for a moment before suddenly frowning.

"I lost?" He blinked hesitantly. "You lost so easily? Terra, I really took a risk."

Fulgrim did not respond. Phoenix was intently deducing the chessboard of the Regicide, all the moves flowing through his mind like water at that moment. Twenty seconds later, he raised his hand and smashed the priest's body beneath his white robes with the warrior's hammer.

Lorgar sighed regretfully.

"That makes it twenty to thirteen," he said, slightly dejected. "I still don't have much talent for chess. I probably won't be able to beat Magnus."

Fulgrim chuckled and casually placed the pieces back where they belonged. But he couldn't resist giving his brother a little taunt.

"Actually, you couldn't beat him from the start. Lorgar Magnus is the only one among us who can draw with Malcador. What were you thinking? Making a bet with him like that?"

The giant with golden skin shook his head helplessly. "How was I supposed to know he'd take it seriously? I told him it was just a joke, but he made a promise with me to play a game of chess every year for the next ten years."

Were you drunk at the time?

"Unless Russ is there," Lorgar replied. "And he's not here, nor is his Fenrisian Mead. I can't get drunk on wine alone."

Fulgrim couldn't help but burst into laughter. He knew what Lorgar hadn't said aloud—"Yes, I wasn't drunk then, but I was even less rational than a drunk Russ."

Lorgar ignored Fulgrim's laughter. He simply crouched down and pulled out a large, heavy iron box from under the small round table they were using. He knelt down and opened the box, and Fulgrim stood up at just the right moment to begin placing the chess pieces inside with his brother.

"Ferrus's skill is truly amazing," said Lorgar. "This set of black pieces he made looks exceptional."

"But you're using the white pieces I made." Fulgrim raised an eyebrow. "Are you implying something, brother?"

"Of course not." Lorgar looked away, avoiding eye contact with Fulgrim. "It was just a compliment; don't overthink it."

"You were the one who pointed out his exceptional skills, how come it's now that I'm overthinking things?"

Lorgar was silent for a moment, then began to regret saying that carelessly. He held the chess piece, raised his hands, and made a very standard surrender gesture. Only then did Fulgrim let him go, but his face still showed some contemplation.

Half a minute later, they stood up, the iron box already back in its place. The two giants stood side by side, exchanged a glance, and then, in unison, walked to the porthole.

Fulgrim looked out the window, a slight, inexplicable pride in his eyes, and nodded to Lorgar: "Look how much Nostramo has changed."

"Are you showing off?" Lorgar asked quietly.

"Of course not," Fulgrim chuckled. "Why would I brag about Konrad Curze's achievements?"

Lorgar forced himself to ignore Phoenix's smug expression. He didn't want to make any comments at this moment, otherwise Fulgrim would definitely seize on him and start another debate.

He didn't want to deal with the Chemos for the time being; Fulgrim was no less eloquent than him. He took a cursory look at Nostramo's current appearance and the fleet around it, with some ships bearing the Mechanicum insignia catching his attention.

"It seems the rumors about Mars are true," Lorgar Aurelian said thoughtfully. "They did indeed reach some kind of agreement with Nostramo."

"Hmm," Fulgrim hummed, but surprisingly didn't say anything else.

Such a reaction was quite unusual. Lorgar turned to look at Phoenix, only to find that the latter's gaze was no longer on the porthole. Following the direction of his gaze, Lorgar saw some piled-up paintings in the corner of Fulgrim's room.

Most of the paintings had flowers glued to their edges, a symbol of the gifts they were given. The paintings were piled up, with only one able to be observed in its entirety. In this painting, he saw a person.

The man was slender yet muscular, strong, but with a remarkably graceful strength. He wore a rainbow-colored short tuxedo jacket, its breastplate shimmering, and a mesmerizing, snake-haired face smiled silently across its surface. He also held a knife in his hand.

"Chemos's style," Fulgrim said, shaking his head. "Most of these younger artists like to dress me in these trendy clothes that I hardly ever wear. To be honest, I'm getting tired of this trend."

"Doesn't Chemos's pop culture have anything to do with you?"

"Of course not." Phoenix turned her head, her expression somewhat disgusted. "If I had more time to spend in Chemos, I wouldn't allow society to develop to this point of worshipping extravagance and useless glamour. While I personally appreciate exquisite things, I would absolutely never wear clothes like this."

Lorgar nodded silently, not intending to comment on the matter.

The sacrifice of the Emperor's Children during the Great Crusade was evident to all, although this was also related to Fulgrim's eagerness to make a name for himself. However, the Chemos had indeed not returned to his homeland for a long time.

He still has control over many aspects of the planet, but popular culture is not among them.

"Anyway—" Fulgrim shook his head and gestured. "—Let's talk about what's coming up later. Are you planning to bring the guards, brother?"

"I think I'll pass," Lorgar said with a wry smile. "I'm definitely not welcome here. If I hadn't happened to be traveling with you, I probably wouldn't have come at all."

After thinking for a moment, Fulgrim said, "In that case, I'll just take Akurduana with me."

After he finished speaking, he noticed Lorgar's slightly downcast expression. Phoenix couldn't help but comfort him, saying, "There's no need for that. The misunderstanding between you and Lorgar Konrad Curze isn't that big, and besides, I'm the one who took the lead this time."

Lorgar glanced at Phoenix, seemingly wanting to say something but holding back—not long ago, after a routine collaboration between the Word Bearers and the Emperor's Children had ended, Fulgrim had approached him.

Phoenix was very direct. He said that his 28th expedition fleet encountered a group of highly civilized Xenos in a star system called Laeran at the edge of the Ultima Segmentum.

If he had stopped there, Lorgar might have thought that Fulgrim had changed his mind and was now asking his brothers to help his legion. But Fulgrim changed the subject and directly mentioned Nostramo, which was also located in the far east of Terra.

At this point, Lorgar didn't even need to think about what he was trying to do.

"Yes, with you taking the lead," the Great Word Bearers shook his head helplessly. In truth, he himself didn't know why he had agreed to Fulgrim's request. But, as his adjutant Erebus had said, what reason did he have to refuse?

Isn't this a good opportunity to salvage his relationship with Konrad Curze Curze?

At this moment, Lorgar Aurelian sincerely hoped that there would be no more estrangement between him and his brother, and that this sincerity would last until the day he died.

Two more chapters