Fifteen Players Take the Stage One by One

"He should have done this a long time ago," Mortarion said excitedly.

The Lord of Death's bandaged hands gripped tightly to the vermilion stone railing. He still wore a hood, and his amber eyes, hidden beneath his short, grayish-white hair, were wide open.

"This Judgment should have taken place twenty years ago. That childish witchcraft has no idea what he's associating with!"

"You're going a bit too far, brother," Konrad Curze Curze said without looking up.

"Extremist?" Mortarion turned his head quickly, his eyes sharpening. "Do you think there's anything wrong with what I said, Konrad Curze?"

"He's hardly a child." The Night Lords raised his head, finally giving the Lord of Death a half-smile.

"You could say Magnus doesn't care much about most things except knowledge, or that he's incredibly arrogant, but he's certainly not a 'child,' Mortarion. What child can summon a storm with a wave of the hand?"

Mortarion smiled dismissively. He didn't answer Curze's question, but instead walked over to him and looked down at the view with him.

This is a magnificent hall located inside a volcano, but the interior is devoid of any luxurious decorations. Instead, there are only high-platform seats made of rough obsidian and black marble, and thousands of private boxes in various positions.

In the center of the hall was a milky-white floor, upon which a golden Aquila seemed poised to take flight. At this moment, not many people had arrived. Apart from the omnipresent Adeptus Custodes, there were only a handful of people.

The meeting had not yet officially begun, so the lords and their servants naturally had no way to enter, but the Primarch were different.

By this time, four Primarch had arrived. In addition to Mortarion and Konrad Curze Curze, Roboute Guilliman and Lion Eljonsson were also present. However, they had just entered, with their guards still following behind.

"Look here!" Curze suddenly called out, causing the Lion El'Jonson and the Lord of Macragge to look up at him.

Mortarion gave a soft hum and slightly raised his chin as a greeting.

Half a minute later, Lion Alderson and Roboute Guilliman pushed open the door to the private room together.

The Lion El'Jonson's attire today was quite unexpected. He wore a cloak the color of the Caliban forest, hard leather shoes and riding breeches, and a noble-style knight's coat. Crimson leather gloves rested on the golden sword at his waist.

All of this made him look less like Primarch attending a meeting and more like a nobleman on a hunting trip.

Lord Macragge, on the other hand, wore a brand-new Archon's uniform. The fabric, in a standard yet aesthetically pleasing blue and gold, was accented with touches of white at the cuffs and collar, giving him a neat and simple look, as if he were ready to start working at any time.

Very Roboute Guilliman style—he's like this most of the time, as long as he doesn't wear Macragge local clothing.

"It's been a year, brother." Roboute Guilliman smiled and shook hands with Curze. He had wanted to hug him, but in the end, he opted for a firm handshake—he could certainly express his emotions directly, but Lion El'Jonson might not.

If he chooses to embrace the idea before him, what should Lion Al-Jonson do? Roboute Guilliman doesn't want the Lord of Caliban to lose face over such a small issue; it wouldn't benefit anyone.

"You have a good memory, Roboute," Curze said with a friendly, harmless joke, then turned to look at the Lion El'Jonson.

The latter met his gaze, strode forward, and opened his arms. Roboute Guilliman's eyes widened as he saw Lion Alderson give Curze a cold, powerful hug for no apparent reason.

He looked at Mortarion in surprise, who glanced back at him for half a second, then let out a hoarse laugh from his respirator, and the bottles and jars hanging all over his body began to clink together.

Roboute Guilliman shook his head, not taking Mortarion's little mockery to heart, and went to shake his hand. The Lord of Death's hands were wrapped in bandages, and a faint herbal scent lingered on them.

The taste should have been pleasant, but unfortunately, his respirator emitted a sour smell, neutralizing the herbal scent and even mixing it together, making the air around the Lord of Death quite eerie.

Fortunately, Roboute Guilliman was already used to it. This wasn't his first time dealing with the Mortarion. It would be strange if a Barbarus didn't have these smells on him.

After a short while, they finally finished exchanging greetings and began to talk.

"Did you all bring Librarian?" Roboute Guilliman asked first, frowning as if he wasn't very optimistic about the prospects of the meeting.

"Of course," Curze continued. "This meeting will have a significant impact on them, and considering that, they certainly have the right to observe."

"I left them on the ship," the Lion El'Jonson replied calmly, arms crossed.

His attitude makes it hard not to think of something unpleasant, and considering his consistent behavior, it's not impossible that such a thing could actually happen.

Mortarion simply remained silent.

Roboute Guilliman shook his head worriedly. "Father took this meeting very seriously. He even recalled Ferrus and insisted that each of us attend. But he should have known the outcome long ago. It's no secret how each of us treats psychic powers."

"Indeed—so why didn't you come to me when you were developing the anti-psy forces, Roboute Guilliman?" Mortarion said, slightly annoyed. "You know my stance on psyism, don't you?"

Roboute Guilliman gave a wry smile. "Yes, I know. But I can't politicize this. One Primarch's contact with Sisters of Silence alone might be explainable, but the two together are a different story."

"Have some sympathy for Roboute, Mortarion. You know he's always been cautious in politics," Konrad Curze Curze said flippantly, leaning back against the railing.

He lazily stretched his back, his black hair falling straight down with the pull of gravity, and thus observed the entire field through his inverted perspective.

"What kind of posture is that?" The Lion El'Jonson frowned, reached out and pulled him up, the movement swift but not forceful. "The officials and lords will be entering soon, mind your manners, Konrad Curze."

"Alright, alright, alright," the Night Lords nodded helplessly. "So, what are your thoughts on this whole matter? Do you agree or disagree?"

"Do you even need to ask?" Mortarion sneered. "I can't wait to see Magnus, clutching his book, stammering as he explains to us that 'psychic powers are completely harmless.' That scene would be hilarious."

Roboute Guilliman gave him a strange look, but Mortarion completely ignored him, continuing to sneer. The Macragge man reluctantly looked away and decided to speak for himself.

"This is the first time I've seen you so harsh, brother. I agree with taking a controlling approach to Psyker, but the Librarius is different. Battle Psyker are irreplaceable in our ranks. Completely banning them now is simply unrealistic."

"Indeed," the Lion El'Jonson said calmly. "A complete ban—what would become of the Librarian? But I support any punishment for Magnus and his legions; his arrogance deserves condemnation. And you, Konrad Curze?"

"I'd like to reserve my opinion for now." The Night Lords smiled slightly, revealing his canines. It was an obvious fake smile, but the thoughts behind it were no secret to the other three Primarch present.

"Standing neutral comes at a price, Konrad Curze," Lion El-Jonson warned, narrowing his eyes. "Magnus will inevitably seek support; Sanguinius, Jaghatai, and Fulgrim will likely side with him, but that won't be enough. Your neutrality will inevitably lead him to try and persuade you."

Maintaining his smile, the Night Lords nodded seemingly gently.

Try it, but it's useless.

Looking at him like this, the Lion El'Jonson couldn't help but shake his head—he had become very familiar with Konrad Curze Curze over the years and knew exactly what kind of personality and temperament the latter had.

He had already realized that Curze's attention was elsewhere, so he simply let him go and discussed the next matter with Roboute Guilliman and Mortarion: would Lorgar be attending the meeting?

This was, after all, another personal invitation from the Emperor. Lorgar had already refused once, during a triumphant return ceremony, so while his reason for refusing wasn't entirely justifiable, it was still somewhat plausible. But what about this time?

They all expressed concern to some extent about the changes in Lorgar in recent years, Roboute Guilliman especially so. Lorgar's changes were inextricably linked to the Perfect City, and the destruction of the Perfect City was closely connected to him and Curze's legions.

As they talked, they assumed Konrad Curze Curze was lost in thought, unaware that the Night Lords was actually listening intently. He leaned against the railing, his eyes fixed on the only entrance to the great hall, his gaze sharp as a drawn sword.

Primarch, lords, governors, officials. He watched them enter one by one, occasionally offering a greeting or nodding in acknowledgment.

The number of people in the private room gradually increased, but he remained silent until a golden-skinned giant led a guard through the entrance, at which point he finally spoke.

However, the sound didn't come from his mouth, but from the dull thud of his boots hitting the ground as he climbed over the railing and leaped down.

With a whooshing sound, Konrad Curze Curze descended from the sky, landing in front of Lorgar Aurelian and blocking his path, causing a gasp from the crowd.

"Hey there, brother, long time no see." With a fake smile, he extended his hand in greeting, his eyes fixed intently on Lorgar Aurelian's gaze.

The guards behind the Great Word Bearers adjusted their stance as if facing a formidable enemy, but Lorgar Aurelian remained calm, as if nothing had happened. He glanced up at the Night Lords, then looked away and walked straight to the inner end, as if Konrad Curze Curze had never been there.

The Night Lords pursed his lips regretfully and whispered something to the darkness.

How's the situation on your end?

--

Above low Earth orbit, Karyl Lohars tilted his head slightly, responding to the darkness.

"Everything is normal. The Fidelitas Lex appears to be without any problems. I will board it for a visit."

"Be careful in everything." Konrad Curze Curze' slightly distorted voice came from the darkness. "Who knows what they've prepared for you?"

"But my end is not here, child." Karyl smiled slightly. "You said it yourself."

"Tsk"

Update complete.