This was Lox's first time visiting the Sigillite's workplace. Even compared to Guilliman's offices, the palace where Malcador resided was unimaginably vast.
Tens of thousands of mortal administrators from the Administratum bustled about, while even more scribal Servitors carried heavy documents written on parchment.
Though it was exceptionally busy, the hall exuded an orderly rhythm amid the bustle. Countless documents were sorted into categories before being delivered to the Sigillite's office.
"This way. Follow me." Russ left his Wolf Guard at the entrance. He knew his wolf pups would cause trouble for these exceptionally busy mortal officials.
Everything here operated like a precision machine, with every aspect calculated. If any link slowed by even a few seconds, it would affect the efficiency of the whole.
He did not want to cause trouble for his dear Uncle Malcador.
Only with the support of this administrative system could the Sigillite handle the immense affairs of the entire Imperium of Man. After all, the great Emperor never concerned himself with such trivial matters, and Malcador faced a workload even more terrifying than Guilliman's.
It was overtime without end in the truest sense. Every second, countless planets across the Imperium reported to the Throne World, while the countless demands of mortal citizens were enough to make one's head explode.
For some reason, seeing the hurried officials coming and going made Lox suddenly feel lingering dread.
"Strange. I've already left Macragge, so why do I still feel this way?"
"My overtime days should have been over."
Lox laughed at himself. Guilliman might have been easy to get along with, but he always dragged those around him into the same frenzied level of busyness.
"Is there a Fenrisian warrior named Malmer in Fafnir's hunting pack?" Lox asked Russ from the side.
The towering Wolf King lowered