47. The Olympian Rebellion (VIII)

"I never imagined that wandering the galaxy would be so easy and enjoyable," Luther said with an enigmatic smile. "Traveling with the Legion is completely different from personally traversing the stars we conquer."

"What, have you become a poet now?" Karyl asked mischievously.

"Maybe—I do write something when I have nothing else to do." Luther laughed.

His left hand reflected the Olympia sunlight, the silver metal appearing cold even in the warm weather. Karyl noticed that Luther's cloak bulged beneath it; he wasn't wearing Power Armour, but that didn't seem to prevent him from carrying many weapons.

The old knight lifted his cloak and, as if by magic, produced a parchment scroll from his breastplate, handing it to Karyl.

"Malcador's order," Luther said. "He didn't lie to me; his informants and spies are indeed spread throughout the galaxy. I can get help and support wherever I go."

"And the task."

Karyl replied, head bowed, his gaze calm as he read the few lines on the parchment. A few seconds later, he handed it back. Luther folded it and placed it in a lining of his belt.

His cloak lining was adorned with many glittering gadgets, some resembling metal cans, others just ordinary knives, deliberately shaped for easy throwing.

He had two pistols on his belt, which looked like old-fashioned revolvers, but their enormous size and the charging coils at the barrels revealed their true nature.

"Good guns," Karyl said. "Where did Malcador find you these treasures?"

"These two guns? Strictly speaking, they're things I stole from some prey." Luther shrugged. "I spent eleven years tracking it down, finally finding it on a satellite near a Death World. That bastard was very good at hiding; thankfully I had this ring."

He raised his right hand and showed Karyl the ring he was wearing on his right index finger.

Its color has now evolved into a pure scarlet. The black is almost invisible, and the red surges, making it look like a dark gemstone.

"You killed it?"

"No." Luther winked maliciously. "I tore its limbs off and pinned it to the ground, watching it bleed to death. So strictly speaking, I didn't kill it."

Karyl smiled slightly, turned around, and led Luther back into the council chamber. Perturabo was busy at the light screen he had summoned using his bracelet, while the tyrant stood beside him, holding a still-dripping bullet, her face deathly pale.

"The gunman committed suicide," Perturabo said without looking up. "He fired under surveillance, using a modified elephant gun. It had a large caliber; while not enough to harm Astartes, it was more than enough to kill a mortal."

Karyl glanced back at Luther and, unsurprisingly, caught a glimpse of shock on the latter's face—clearly, the Caliban hadn't expected to see Perturabo here.

To add to that: he also didn't expect to see such a rational Perturabo.

Karyl knew that the Lord of Iron's current rationality was merely a facade.

"Lady Calliphone, are you alright?" He looked at the tyrant, who was still leaning on her scepter and shaking her head rapidly. She also gave Karyl a wink, hoping he would answer Perturabo's question first.

"If I sit here, then she'll be fine."

Perturabo raised his head unhappily, glanced at Luther, and his eyes narrowed slightly. When he spoke again, his tone had changed.

"I thought you left the council chamber to seek the truth, Karyl Lohars. Or at least part of the truth. I didn't expect you to bring my brother's foster father with you."

Karyl didn't speak, but simply made a gesture, indicating that the truth you wanted was right before your eyes.

"It's Luther, sir," the old knight corrected with a smile, his tone emphasizing. "Not my foster father, just Luther."

Perturabo stared at him for a moment, then looked away when he saw Luther's metal left arm and the ring.

"So, what are you doing on my planet?"

"Investigate," Luther replied cautiously.

In fact, he was extremely cautious—he didn't want to provoke Perturabo anywhere. Even if he had a way to ensure that the enraged Primarch couldn't harm him, he didn't want the atmosphere to become that terrible.

"Who are you investigating? Or rather, what are you investigating?" Perturabo asked seemingly casually. "When did Malcador send you here?"

"Six months ago, sir, I hadn't been here long. I must say, I quite liked your home planet."

"Insincere praise will not help us in any way, Ser Luther," Perturabo said coldly. "Your activities in the galaxy are no secret, especially yours, Ser."

"Me?" Luther laughed in surprise.

"Yes, you." Perturabo nodded slowly. "Lion Aljonson has been very restrained these past few years; he's even become much more cautious about going out. He seems to be deliberately avoiding you."

Luther's smile faded.

"So I know what you're doing now, I know perfectly well. I won't question the tasks Malcador gave you, nor will I ask what your purpose is in coming to Olympia, but I demand a reward."

"Your generosity surprises me, and your request is perfectly reasonable." Luther bowed slightly. "I will answer your questions to the best of my ability."

"This whole thing—" Perturabo rose from the stone chair, his eyes as cold as glaciers—"—is it related to your mission?"

"No, sir," Luther said. "My arrival was purely accidental."

"But you stayed for six months."

"When we're carrying out a mission, we don't always prioritize efficiency. Sometimes, patient waiting can actually lead to more positive outcomes. But I assure you, I never imagined that an internal conflict would escalate into what it is today."

As Luther spoke, he glanced at Perturabo's left hand. The Lord of Iron looked at him expressionlessly and shook his head slowly and forcefully.

"So, you're watching my world erupt into civil war?"

Would you be happy if I intervened?

"No, but that's not important," Perturabo said. "I need more intelligence. What do you know, Sir Luther?"

Luther looked up and glanced at Karyl.

The latter lowered his head at just the right moment, returning his gaze with a calm look. Luther also noticed something moving within his colleague's Shadow —no, no, perhaps it was the Shadow itself that was moving.

It howled in a world that did not belong to the living. Luther felt a sharp pain from his ring, and some kind of perception was projected into his mind in a way that ordinary people could not understand.

"Blood—!" the Shadow screamed. "His blood! I crave it!"

The old knight immediately forced himself to forget about it. He hesitated for a moment before slowly speaking.

"I know a lot, such as the causes and course of the civil war. I have a strong curiosity, and sometimes I don't even realize I'm investigating these things. According to my investigation, your world has been divided, and Olympia is being influenced by several different ideologies."

"Some advocate for closer ties with the Emperor and distance from the Imperium, some advocate for closer ties with the Imperium and distance from the Emperor, some advocate for the Olympia to elect a new leader and leave the Imperium, and some hope that you will become the sole ruler of Olympia."

Luther paused deliberately; he had to do it, he was trying to give the other three some breathing room.

"And some people are even more extreme; they've even tried to resurrect your adoptive father," he said after the pause.

"Click--"

Perturabo exhaled a long, calm breath, released his right hand, and let a corner of the crushed stone chair back slowly slide from his grasp. The stone fell to the ground with a jumbled sound, and Calliphone, standing beside him, spoke with an expression he had never seen before.

"--What did you say?!" the tyrannical woman demanded sharply. "What do they want to do?!"

"What I said was too terrible, so I probably won't repeat it again, ma'am." Luther shook his head at her with impeccable manners, a slight apology in his expression. He glanced at Perturabo again and pursed his lips.

"That's actually one of the reasons I came to the council hall today. I'm about to leave, and I wanted to figure out a few things before I left, so I wandered around the city and happened to smell the blood here."

"Although I do not know that the master of Olympia has returned to his planet, I do intend to write a letter to Malcador after today, asking him to hand it over to those who need it."

"You've put in the effort, Sir Luther, Olympia will thank you for that," Perturabo replied rather reluctantly. "But I need proof of everything you've said. If I'm going to use them to do anything, I need evidence to prove their existence."

"I'm afraid I can't provide any evidence, sir. My investigative methods aren't exactly trustworthy, or rather, they're not trusted by the public." Luther shook his head regretfully, showing off the ring on his right hand.

"I understand," Perturabo said.

He remained silent for a moment, deep in thought.

Silence fell over the council chamber. Karyl thoughtfully rubbed the blade he had conjured with psionic energy, remaining silent.

Luther waited patiently for what would happen next, his right hand resting on his left, feeling the coldness of the metal.

Calliphone gasped for breath, finding it incredible that the tyrant could still stand despite her weakened state, considering everything she had been through that day.

A few minutes later, Perturabo finally spoke.

"Calliphone, my forces are landing, and one detachment will escort you back to my ship. I beg you not to argue with me at this time; I don't have time for that."

"Karyl, I need the help of the Midnight Blade. I need a force of over five hundred men to deal with the civil unrest in the city-state. If you agree, I will grant them supreme law enforcement authority, and I ask them to handle this matter with the utmost efficiency."

"Sir Luther, if possible, I would like you to stay for a while. I have some more details to ask you."

Calliphone nodded sadly, her hands resting on her cane.

Karyl calmly replied, "I will contact a company of a thousand men."

Luther frowned, thought for a moment, and then replied, "I don't think staying a little longer will cause any problems for my mission."

"Very well," Perturabo said. "I'll have everything sorted out within the next twenty-four hours, and then you can leave, Sir Luther."

He turned his head to look at Calliphone.

"Don't panic," he said. "I'll handle everything."

Also, the code.