As soon as fine wine was mentioned, the Emperor, Fulgrim, and Clarkson opened up, reminiscing about the era of the great crusade ten thousand years ago. The Emperor's face bore only heaviness, Fulgrim's showed bitterness, and Clarkson's was marked by gloom.
"Everyone loves wine," Fulgrim said after a moment of silence, savoring the dried dinosaur meat, raisins, and nuts provided by the Lizardmen. His tone was tinged with sorrow. "Father, do you remember? I once shared a cup of wine with Horus. He loved wine, and so did I, as did Ferrus. He preferred strong spirits."
"Konrad, Sanguinius, and Magnus—none of us were without a taste for it," Clarkson added with a hint of somberness. "Konrad liked mare's milk wine, Sanguinius enjoyed the robust bitterness of red wine, and Magnus, along with Ahriman, often used their psychic powers to scour the universe for brewing recipes."
"Everyone loved wine, but only Leman Russ and Angron were unfit to drink," the Emperor nodded, contemplating his cup. The ruler of humanity's thoughts drifted back ten millennia. "Russ was a fool who only knew how to guzzle and swig. He and his wolves didn't care if they were drinking the finest vintage or horse piss, as long as there was plenty."
"That's why I never shared my prized collection with Russ. I only gave him inferior malt liquor or his own Fenrisian blood mead," Fulgrim smiled, remembering Russ charging into battle after too much drink. "No matter how exquisite the wine meant to be savored, Russ would always bite off the cork with his teeth and down it in one gulp, leaving nothing behind. How foolish."
"As for Angron, none of us wanted him near alcohol. He was already a madman, and who knows what might happen if he drank," Clarkson added. "I wouldn't want to face him one-on-one."
"Besides Angron, Perturabo also had a fondness for wine," the Emperor nodded. "Whenever Perturabo was tasked with breaching the most impregnable fortresses or undertaking his most meticulous designs, he would drink wine, venting his frustrations as he did."
Fulgrim agreed. "Those were likely the only moments when Perturabo was slightly less unhappy—while drinking."
"But if we're talking about who had the largest collection of wine, it was undoubtedly Guilliman and Jonson," Clarkson nodded. "I once had the honor of drinking with Guilliman on Macragge, in his palace's overly ornate, gold-encrusted reception room. Unlike Fulgrim's flagship, which was like a perfumed fist, Guilliman's palace was a gilded leather patch—one too ostentatious, the other unbearably tacky."
"You remember everyone so vividly, Clarkson. I'm glad to hear you speak so frankly of me," Fulgrim responded with a smile. "It's better than your stark, prison-like abode filled with bizarre statues. It's nothing short of a dungeon, with you residing in the largest cell."
"Heh, yes, we were all like that—proud, arrogant, and supremely confident," Clarkson's pale face showed deep sarcasm. "Such traits led to your downfall and caused me to make grave errors."
The Primarch of the Raven Guard spoke these words, though he felt comforted inside.
One by one, his brothers were returning, and he no longer felt alone.
"Enough, let's bring the conversation back to wine," the Emperor wisely intervened before his sons could start bickering again. "Not everyone's tastes are the same."
"Guilliman's cellar was known for Ferelonas, a rich, full-bodied wine with a hint of sweetness, very pleasant to the palate," Clarkson continued, complying with the Emperor's command. "As for Jonson, no one knows where he hid his collection on Caliban, but without a doubt, he had a private cellar deep within, filled with whiskey, gin, and beer—and a cow."
"A cow?" Fulgrim asked, puzzled. "Why a cow?"
"Jonson obtained it from Angron during Ryan's wedding," Clarkson replied, showing rare exasperation. "Jonson had no idea what to do with it, so he handed it over to Azrael, the Grand Master of the Dark Angels, to take care of. Azrael convened a secret meeting of the Dark Angels' inner circle and classified the cow's presence as top secret. No one outside the inner circle knew where it was, where it came from, or what it looked like. All records were destroyed, and those who saw the cow were sworn to secrecy under oath. Jonson told me this himself."
"..." Fulgrim nearly spat out his wine, shaking his head as he struggled to swallow it. "So, are they going to silence everyone next? Will anyone who has seen or heard about the cow be taken back to Caliban for interrogation and forced into repentance and ultimate loyalty?"
"Probably," Clarkson agreed. "That's Jonson's way of handling things, isn't it?"
"Alright, let's get back to wine," Fulgrim sighed, finding Jonson's actions overly rigid and boring. There were many ways to handle the cow, but Jonson only used two methods for everything. Not wanting to criticize Jonson's style, Fulgrim changed the subject. "Father, if we're talking about someone who truly understands and loves wine, it would have to be your closest friend, Chancellor Malcador. I hear his collection spans the entirety of human history, with rare vintages even you envy."
"Indeed, Malcador's collection is vast, covering the full spectrum of humanity's past. Many of his bottles date back to the ancient era of Terra, from the days of vineyards and wineries. His collection is not just about drinking; it represents the heritage of human civilization," the Emperor said, savoring a sip of the finest wine from the old world, Lüsarus. "Malcador's collection remains, preserved in stasis fields, holding countless memories."
"I hear only Dorn often had the opportunity to drink with Malcador," Fulgrim seemed interested. "I hope I get a chance to taste Malcador's collection someday."
"Malcador's collection belongs to Ryan," the Emperor's tone turned cold. "All of it is Ryan's property."
Fulgrim: "..."
Clarkson: "..."
"So... when are we going to bring back Mortarion and Perturabo? I'm getting impatient," Clarkson asked after a brief silence. "Why won't they return to the Imperium even though they know you are gathering the Primarchs and have a way to cleanse them?"
"Angron has returned, but look at his state now," Fulgrim brushed his silver hair lightly with his fingers. "Like an old farmer, he's disillusioned with everything, including the Imperium and Chaos. The same goes for Mortarion and Perturabo. If we can't solve their issues perfectly, it's better to wait for the right moment to find a solution. Otherwise, even if they're cleansed, they won't serve the Imperium again."
"Angron aside, Mortarion and Perturabo... the cost is too high," the Emperor finally spoke, his eyes like lightning as they gazed into the distance. "Until I have a detailed plan, I have no intention to act."
"What about Dorn?"
"Can't find him."
"Alright then."
...I am the Loyal Divider...
The next day, the Emperor and Clarkson departed, leaving Fulgrim behind.
Part of the Ashen Legion, about ten thousand strong, had been transported to Itza by Mazda-Mudi's teleportation magic. Here, the Lizardmen would defend Itza at all costs until the revival of Lord Kroak.
The decayed remains within the shield of the Old Ones were gradually emitting life. The ancient echoes on the streets of Itza were the whispers of Lord Kroak's soul. With the Emperor's call, his soul was slowly returning to his body.
Dressed in his purple armor, with the golden power sword Honor at his side, his silver hair neatly arranged, and his purple-gold cloak secured, Fulgrim emerged from the room assigned by the Lizardmen.
The Primarch of the Emperor's Children was quickly struck by the scene before him.
The city now housed the largest gathering of Lizardmen troops ever seen. Tens of thousands of Saurus and Skink warriors were preparing for battle, activating ancient devices as beams of light shot skyward from the towering pyramids of the Old Ones.
The human troops of the Ashen Legion assembled in the square. Despite being awed by the ancient species and their once-glorious civilization, no soldier showed any hesitation. The legion was wholly captivated by Fulgrim's charisma, ready to fight for honor.
"Lord Fulgrim," Luigi Trading Company's president, Hadrian, approached, his spirits visibly low. He bowed deeply. "Good morning."
"Good morning," Fulgrim, towering over Hadrian, whose height barely reached Fulgrim's chest, smiled at the merchant. "Are you settling in well here?"
"Not quite, especially with the local cuisine, which includes quite a few insects," Hadrian smiled weakly, carefully managing his expression. He knew a bit of complaining could create a sense of camaraderie, but too much would only be irritating.
Hadrian realized the magnitude and power of the family he had aligned with. After seeing the resplendent True God—the being Hadrian was convinced was undeniably a True God—his belief was solidified.
This family was divine.
"I recall instructing you to bring your own food," Fulgrim saw through Hadrian's ploy but chose not to expose it, instead referring to his previous orders.
"Of course, we did bring our supplies as you commanded, but many soldiers are
eager to try the exotic foods offered by these ancient beings. At least their raisins and various fruits are quite good," Hadrian said with a smile. "Following your guidance, Captain, we're open to new experiences. Believe me, trading with these ancient species will yield unimaginable profits."
"That's good," Fulgrim nodded, noticing his vice-captain, Fernando Palazzo, leading the Ashen Legion's knights and greatswords toward them. They were joined by the Slann Mage-Priest Mazda-Mudi.
Mazda-Mudi sat upon his golden throne, which was mounted on the back of an ancient Stegadon named Zeklag. The powerful second-generation Slann was evidently ready for battle. He looked at Fulgrim. "Young... son of the Old Ones, follow me. The war council to protect my master, Lord Kroak, is about to convene."
Accompanying Mazda-Mudi was a robust Carnosaur, which roared and swiftly approached Fulgrim, bowing low.
This was Fulgrim's steed.
Ten minutes later, the war council convened inside the Great Pyramid of Itza. Present were Slann Mage-Priest Mazda-Mudi, Last Defender Kroq-Gar, Saurus Oldblood Tetto'eko in charge of Itza's defense, and the remaining two second-generation Slanns.
All the first-generation Slanns, created by the Old Ones, had perished. Only five second-generation Slanns remained: Mazda-Mudi ruling the City of the Sun, Hua-Hua ruling the City of Mists, and Odo-Taha ruling the City of the Moon. The other two second-generation Slanns were also present.
"Our master's revival will unleash immense magical energy across the world. The Great Vortex won't be able to conceal Lord Kroak's power. We must prepare for war," Mazda-Mudi's voice was hoarse and filled with ancient weight, speaking slowly. Fortunately, a Skink Priest translated for Fulgrim.
"Our mortal enemies will undoubtedly send a formidable force to prevent Lord Kroak's revival," another second-generation Slann whispered. He appeared very old.
Fulgrim recalled the Emperor's words. Theoretically, the servants of the Old Ones were immortal. The only way a Slann could age was if its magic and energy were constantly depleted.
It made sense. They were maintaining the "Great Warding."
Fulgrim's eyes flickered, but he remained silent.
"Apart from our mortal enemies, another force will likely interfere with Lord Kroak's revival," Kroq-Gar said, his tongue flicking out. The Last Defender and warlord exuded his savagery. "The Skaven."
"The Skaven have been driven out of Lustria!" Saurus Oldblood Tetto'eko roared.
"They have clearly returned," Mazda-Mudi breathed deeply, his exhalations heavy with the Winds of Magic. "The stars show that more Skaven have landed in Lustria."
"Itza's forces cannot simultaneously withstand the Chaos Daemons and the Skaven. We need reinforcements from the City of the Mists and the City of the Moon!" Kroq-Gar quickly calculated the looming threat's scale.
"The City of the Mists and the City of the Moon cannot send aid," the other second-generation Slann whispered. "Hua-Hua must defend the City of the Mists from Skaven and numerous undead pirates, while Odo-Taha's soul is still lost in the void. Only when his soul returns can the forces of the City of the Moon be mobilized."
"Then what?" Saurus Oldblood Tetto'eko's rage was evident. "Regardless, my master has only to command, and I will fight our enemies to the death."
"We will fortify the Star Bridge to confront the combined forces of the Skaven and Chaos Daemons," Mazda-Mudi closed his eyes and, after five minutes, opened them again. "Whether we can hold until Lord Kroak's complete revival is the key to victory."
"This war will determine if the world can survive. If we fail, darkness will engulf this land."
"Now, let us fight to protect the legacy of our masters."
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