The Gathering of Six Primarchs (End)

Horus picked up a bronze goblet, drank the wine inside in one gulp without the slightest hesitation.

The Servitor responsible for pouring him wine was completely unaware of the responsibilities he bore. Its monotonous programming made it oblivious to the envious stares of the other servants lurking in the corners of the platform.

Horus stretched out his arm so that the Servitor could continue its work.

He didn't focus his gaze on it, but rather on something in the distance.

The sky over Ullanor was a somber, deep blue, with clouds rolling overhead and rain brewing. Phosphex torches shot into the sky, and the pale heads of the Orks lined the roadside, watching the victors' triumphant display.

The Imperial Army, clad in their impeccable uniforms, arrived at their positions. The marching formations, composed of men and women in various uniforms, were gradually bringing order to the otherwise noisy procession. Heavy vehicles and Titans stood silently behind them, walls of steel, unparalleled divine machinery, representing the most powerful and primal force.

A shadow of gloom crossed Horus's face unconsciously. He turned his head and gave Jaghatai, who was standing beside him, a fleeting smile.

He seemed to want to say something, but failed. The Khan didn't press him, but simply raised his glass and took a small sip.

The clear liquid flowed down his throat, bringing a burning sensation. The Chogoris man calmly put down his glass, giving it a low rating in his mind, and then casually placed it on the thick, wall-like edge of the high platform.

A gentle breeze blew by, bringing a damp, rainy feel, but the wine glasses remained firmly in place, without the slightest tremor. Behind them came a murmur of conversation, with Corius Corax's rapid and urgent voice standing out prominently.

"He has never spoken to me in this tone before," Horus sighed softly, turning a seemingly unrelated remark into a hammer blow that broke the silence between him and Jaghatai.

"Oh?"

"Corax," Horus said with a half-smile, "This is my reward after helping him so many times."

"Your words sound tinged with jealousy, and your smile is full of falsehood, brother." Jaghatai extended a finger and placed it on his wine glass.

He narrowed his eyes, not fixing his gaze, sharper than any weapon, on Horus, but instead using that gaze to harm the lifeless cup. His fingers tapped it lightly, making it ring out, and the wine within rippled in circles.

"Is this what you call jealousy? I'm just stating a fact," Horus said with that unpleasant smile.

"You're just jealous," Jaghatai stated neutrally. "Karyl Lohars's situation is what you've always dreamed of, and you've worked hard for it, but you haven't gotten it, or at least not as you'd hoped."

"What are you talking about?" Horus asked, his smile vanishing.

He put down his wine cup, and imitating Jaghatai, placed it on the heavy edge of the high platform, then casually dismissed the Servitor, indicating that he no longer needed its service.

The irrational, cyborg creature nodded stiffly and walked away with impeccable poise, following a pre-programmed sequence.

Jaghatai watched it depart, a hint of pity arising in his eyes.

"You will tear it down," the Khan said with certainty. "Sooner or later, you will tear that poor thing down."

Why would I do that?

"You know the answer yourself. Everyone has a moment when they need to vent. But I'm more interested in knowing why you're so upset, what made you lose your temper today, brother?"

Jaghatai withdrew his gaze and looked at Horus. He remained somewhat reserved, his gaze still relatively gentle. Horus smiled again, a faint and indistinct smile, as if trying to avoid answering, but the Khan did not choose to back down.

He narrowed his eyes, finally letting that sharpness fully bloom. This gaze silenced Horus; he clenched his right fist, and his Power Armour, responding to the movement of his hand, began to passively increase his strength, the gauntlets creaking as he did so.

A sense of oppression welled up from the depths of this demigod's marrow, causing the wolf-skin cloak on his shoulders to tremble incessantly. But this gathering of power was not for attacking or harming Jaghatai, but for mustering the courage to speak the truth.

A few seconds later, the Primarch closed his eyes and let out a long sigh.

The raindrops in Ullanor began to fall at that moment.

It arrived extremely fast, striking the top of the platform and producing a crisp, shattering sound.

"My anger has nothing to do with Karyl Lohars; I'm just taking it out on him. It's shameful, but I can't stop," Horus told Jaghatai in a low voice, his eyes closed. "My father told me something, and his words are the source of my anger."

"That's strange, you're angry with him?" Jaghatai asked thoughtfully. "Is this really happening, Horus? You'd be angry with the Emperor?"

Why can't I?

The Wolf God opened his eyes, and the first genuine smile finally bloomed on his resolute face since the start of the conversation. It was a smile mixed with bitterness and anger, Khan saw clearly, taking in all the emotions.

"I respect him, I follow him, and I sincerely want him to be proud of me. His ideals are my lifelong goals. I understand his greatness and his suffering. Those thirty years have made my ideals and his ideals one."

"But that doesn't mean I won't be angry with him, Jaghatai. You know what kind of person our father is. Working with him is very difficult. His demands can keep you up day and night, just to get a few words out of you. And now, his demands on me, he—"

A shadow crossed Horus's face.

"How is he?" the Khan asked softly.

He asked me to take on a greater responsibility.

"That sounds like a good thing. Isn't this exactly what you've been longing for? To be trusted and valued by him more."

"Yes, I do desire these things, but not in this way!" Horus growled.

He raised his hands and placed them heavily on the edge of the platform. Even though the Primarch had consciously controlled most of his power, the slight amount of anger that leaked out still caused his hands to shatter the rain curtain, and the pearl-white gauntlets began to be washed by the rain.

Which way?

"Stop pretending, brother."

Horus lowered his head and gazed down. His legions stood solemnly in formation through the rain, the Luna Wolves looking proudly at their father, completely unaware of the turbulent undercurrents hidden beneath the Wolf God's calm expression.

"You could absolutely guess; you're an eagle, seeing farther than any of us. Besides, this matter was leaked a long time ago; it's not a secret, at least not among us."

"Warmaster?"

The Khan uttered the word casually, as if it were nothing special. He mentioned it in a very ordinary tone, no different from mentioning common things like "water," "cup," or "chair."

A few seconds later, Jaghatai laughed.

"I'm already imagining Perturabo's reaction when he hears this, and Ferrus's. What a coincidence, neither of them is here. But the Lion El'Jonson is here; have you thought about how to handle his possible questions?"

Horus looked up at him. "Don't you think so?"

What do you think?

Horus fell silent again, unsure of what to say; his mind was completely blank. The Khan, however, spoke slowly, his tone gentle, yet his words were incredibly sharp.

"I know what you're thinking, Horus. You don't want this position; you'd rather be the eldest son among your brothers. You don't want the power to command us and our legions. You know that having this title will passively change the meaning of many of your future words, thus creating discord among your brothers. But you also don't want someone else to take the position of Warmaster. Am I right?"

Horus stared at him blankly, then suddenly gave a bitter laugh.

"Yes." The Wolf God nodded, his jaw tightening. "You're right."

"You know I respect you, brother?" the Khan asked again, his tone still gentle.

"Yes I know."

"But I must say now, I'm tired of it." Jaghatai finally changed his tone and spoke coldly.

"I'm tired of you Primarch behaving like characters in a play, contradicting yourselves, so fragile, that any matter concerning him is enough to keep your extraordinary brains occupied for ages."

"The playwright did this for dramatic conflict, but what about you? Whenever these topics come up, your usual composure vanishes, and you become like children, fighting over things that aren't even precious."

"You just acted like a child, a child who received a glass marble from his father. This thing is extremely cheap, and even contains toxins due to its raw materials, yet you clutched it tightly in your hand."

"You don't want it, but you don't want your father's other children to have it either. It's not jealousy that drives you, nor is it vanity. There's only one reason that makes you do this."

Jaghatai burst into laughter, an uncontrollable smile spreading across the face of the Chogoris man. Was it mockery? Probably not, for there was no smile in his eyes.

You want to have his love all to yourself. All the generosity and excellence you show in daily life are actually for this reason. You want him to love you more.

"What?" Horus was stunned, and then he stammered. "No, no— Jaghatai, you've misunderstood me!"

"Is that so?" The Khan chuckled. "Perhaps, but I don't care for his so-called love. All emperors are the same, Horus. Look at yourself, take a good look. Where has that general I once respected gone? He can't even speak properly anymore."

"I--"

"Think it over carefully," the Khan interrupted mercilessly. "You are still my brother, and I still respect you, but I don't want to see you like this again."

He turned and left, Horus lowered his head, deeply ashamed, and began to ponder Jaghatai's words. And because of this, he missed the Chogoris's unwavering figure striding towards the inner part of the platform. He had known the Khan for many years, but he still didn't know him well enough.

That's far from enough.

One more chapter.