Endurance.
Now.
Hades was strolling down the narrow corridor behind Mortarion. The two of them walked at an unhurried pace, in no rush to reach their next destination.
Mortarion traveled in silence, giving Hades room to think.
Hades was still turning over Mortarion's earlier words in his mind.
Even though these veterans from Terra had all sworn loyalty to Mortarion, Mortarion would never grant them his trust lightly.
This was not Mortarion being paranoid. In truth, the veterans of every Legion would experience some friction with the newly arrived primarch and recruits.
Take the Ultramarines Legion, for example. Primarch Guilliman disapproved of the Terra veterans' excessively brutal methods. Or the Nineteenth Legion, the Raven Guard—Corax disliked the way the Terra veterans used Astra Militarum troops as bait in war.
If a primarch possessed enough personal charisma or sufficiently brilliant political wisdom, the integration of the old and new Legion would become somewhat easier.
The classic positive example was the Ultramarines Legion. Roboute Guilliman constantly used his wisdom to persuade the veterans onto a new path.
Or there was the Ninth Legion, where sacred Sanguinius had saved that group of vampires on the verge of falling.
But there were less positive examples as well. Such as the Fourteenth Legion, the Death Guard.
Mortarion's approach was simple: use his outstanding tactical mind and methods to force those veterans into submission.
Then he would send them into high-casualty wars, bleeding out the old veterans to renew the Legion's blood.
Some stubborn veterans clung to their former glory and voluntarily took on death missions.
Others chose to place their complete faith in their primarch and let go of their past glory.
In fact, from another angle—if one did not consider the integration of the old and new Legions—Mortarion's methods were not necessarily less efficient.
They allowed him to place his own people throughout the Legion as extensively as possible in a short time, expanding his authority.
Some might not understand this. Hadn't these Terra-born veterans already declared their loyalty to Mortarion? What authority was there left to expand?
In truth, rather than saying they were loyal to the primarch himself, it was more accurate to say that they had chosen loyalty because the Emperor had commanded them to serve the primarch.
Most of these Terra-born Dusk Raiders veterans had witnessed the Emperor's majesty and glory firsthand. To them, a primarch was merely a gift the Emperor had bestowed upon them.
With a primarch, the entire Legion would become stronger. But even without one, the Legion had continued operating according to its own ways.
Moreover, Mortarion's return had come relatively late in the Great Crusade. After Mortarion, only Angron, Corax, and Omegon remained unrecovered.
This had given the Dusk Raiders a sense of psychological independence.
The former Dusk Raiders, unlike the Twelfth Legion War Hounds who still envied the glorious returns of primarchs such as Guilliman and Sanguinius—
The Fourteenth Legion had long realized that a Legion could do very well without a primarch.
The former Fourteenth Legion, the Dusk Raiders, even possessed a belief within its ranks—
What did it matter if they had a primarch? The Fourteenth Legion without one could accomplish everything those primarch-led forces could.
The most extreme veterans even believed that a primarch was nothing special, watching with amusement to see whether he could truly make the entire Legion better.
The veterans always held their heads high. They had every reason to be proud.
These veterans, who had borne the brunt of most of the wars alone, walked silently through the universe. While other Legions cheered at recovering their primarchs and prepared grand welcoming ceremonies, the Dusk Raiders fought soundlessly in every corner of the galaxy.
When Sanguinius knelt before his sons, when Guilliman of the Ultramar Empire reforged the Ultramarines' glory, when Dorn returned leading his vast and perfect pocket empire,
The Legions whose primarchs had yet to be found could only watch their performances from below.
Some Legions envied them, hoping their own primarch would be as noble as Sanguinius, as glorious as Guilliman, as proud as Horus.
No Space Marine failed to long for the father connected to him by blood and genes.
They hoped their primarch would be the finest one. They hoped their primarch would be the most unique one. They hoped he would lead them into becoming the most glorious among them.
But there were always exceptions.
Such as the former Fourteenth Legion, the Dusk Raiders.
They had their own culture. They had their own history.
When a planet's point of attack silently turned toward the border between light and shadow, the Fourteenth Legion's general offensive was only just beginning.
They rode beneath the dusk and launched large-scale ground assaults against the enemy. The dim, enchanting light blurred the Space Marines' gray Power Armor, while the ancient and traditional Albian Tactics continued to serve their purpose across the universe.
They were warriors from Terra. They were the Emperor's steadfast right arm.
Thus, they earned themselves a distinctive title—the Dusk Raiders.
They possessed their own pride.
More intriguingly, the Dusk Raiders' proud independence, silent stubbornness, and refusal to rely on those above them were, in some respects—
Truly fitting for Mortarion's sons.
The primarch's towering form was still strolling through the corridors of the Endurance. Hades watched Mortarion, uncertain how he was currently getting along with those veterans.
Personally, Hades still hoped that the old and new Legions could integrate more smoothly.
First, Hades respected these veterans who had spent their lives at war. Second, a Legion with large numbers of veterans was often far more formidable in battle.
Third, if Mortarion insisted on rebelling, these veterans from Terra would become the Death Guard's last loyalists.
Sometimes, thinking about certain matters became difficult because one was always unwilling to face them directly.
Hades knew that although he had successfully broken one of Mortarion's inner demons, when it came to fate, Hades still preferred to have a second safeguard.
As for Typhon, Hades would find a way. If he could be persuaded, Hades would try.
But if that truly proved impossible—
—then he would kill him.
But what worried Hades was this: even if he killed one future traitor, would a second traitor appear? Or a third?
Even without traitors, would Mortarion still be manipulated by Nurgle into ascension?
What was more, even without Nurgle's schemes, Mortarion would still choose betrayal in the original story after Horus persuaded him.
For now, killing Alien Lord Nac'Lare was merely the tiniest branch in the vast course of Warhammer's fate.
As one insignificant member of his species, how much of a splash could Hades possibly make?
The future was too unpredictable, and individual strength too insignificant.
Based on the information currently available, Hades still could not reach a conclusion about his next step.
Should he flee? Should he fight? Should he turn the tide? Or should he hide within fate?
The mysteries surrounding him were already riddled with doubts.
Hades needed to see more. He needed to think more.
He would find his answer.
Happy reading. ω
Book recommendation, book recommendation: a new 40k novel where the big guy starts from scratch. No system, no cheats so far. A rare new Warhammer story—charge! (_)
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