Chapter 206: I Praise Too
The post-battle cleanup of Drune proceeded quickly—mainly because everyone in charge was dead.
The psyker Xenos behaved more like a hive mind; once the core was destroyed, the subordinate entities also perished, and the puppetized humans they controlled dropped dead instantly. The Legions didn't even need to perform sweeping purges afterward.
Because this planet was estimated to have high production value, the Mechanicum's ships arrived almost the instant news of victory was confirmed. After a brief greeting with the Luna Wolves and the Death Guard, the eager Tech-Priests couldn't wait to disembark with their Skitarii escorts to begin in-depth surveys and valuation.
As for interfacing with the Mechanicum... once Horus realized this was merely a minor forge world in the local sector, he immediately delegated the matter to Abaddon. The Mournival weren't just responsible for military operations—they also handled diplomacy for the Lunar Wolves.
The Death Guard, of course, sent Hades as usual.
So Abaddon could only stare, wide-eyed, as Hades chatted easily and warmly with the assembled Tech-Priests. Throughout the entire meeting, Abaddon—supposedly the official Lunar Wolf representative—barely spoke.
Naturally, the Tech-Priests were fond of anyone who held a senior forge title within a Legion. But it was also possible they genuinely appreciated Hades' binary-encoded Martian jokes.
As the scarlet-robed priests left in satisfaction, their crimson robes swishing behind them, Abaddon blinked slowly and stared blankly at Hades, who was casually helping himself to some refreshments.
At first, Abaddon had assumed Hades was simply a Techmarine who got ahead thanks to being close with his Primarch—someone who learned a bit of tech as a side gig.
But after seeing Hades' battlefield performance, he changed his mind. Surely Hades was a front-line powerhouse who just happened to moonlight in the forge.
After all, his time spent studying on Mars was absurdly short.
But now? Abaddon was starting to believe that Hades' technical mastery wasn't just for show. The man clearly had a deep understanding of the Mechanicum's dense and esoteric systems.
Abaddon sucked in a breath.
Hades was also capable of handling diplomacy on behalf of the Death Guard?
Abaddon had always thought the Mournival were well-rounded—but this guy? This guy even handled Mechanicum negotiations.
What kind of monster is this?!
"Hmm? Why are you staring at me?"
Munching on a pastry, Hades glanced at Abaddon.
The Lunar Wolf had looked a bit dazed since the start of the meeting, but Hades had been too busy talking with the Tech-Priests to really pay attention.
Currently, the Mechanicum's plan for the planet was to convert it into an agri-world. Its soil was exceptionally fertile and—conveniently—the population was zero. Originally, it had been a good candidate for a garden world, but due to its history with parasitic psyker Xenos, that idea was scrapped.
Hades, however, was already wondering if the Death Guard could claim the planet instead.
No people? Even better!
They could transplant workers straight from the Galaspar hive world!
That would turn the planet into a mixed-use agri-world. The Mechanicum hadn't originally favored this plan—but Hades had managed to convince them.
Of course, the Lunar Wolves would still need to be consulted. But based on Hades' earlier conversation with Horus, the Lupercal seemed utterly uninterested in the planet. He was more intrigued by the Death Guard, Mortarion, and Hades himself.
Besides, when Hades was negotiating with the Mechanicum… Abaddon hadn't raised any objections, had he?
Hades subconsciously overlooked one key detail: he had been using electro-wave communication with the Tech-Priests. Abaddon literally couldn't hear a thing.
Seeing Hades look at him now, Abaddon blinked back into reality like someone waking from a trance.
"Hades…" Abaddon hesitated, staring at him. "You're really that close with the Mechanicum?"
"I am a Master of the Forge, after all. Naturally, we have close ties."
"But you…"
Abaddon was momentarily speechless.
Negotiation was supposed to be his specialty—and yet, looking at Hades nonchalantly snacking in front of him, Abaddon found himself lost for words.
So this is… what true strength looks like?
Abaddon could say with certainty that if Hades had been born into the Luna Wolves, he would, without question, be the foremost warrior beneath the Primarch—a benchmark against which all others would be measured. The Legion would have to carve out a whole new tier of strength just to account for him.
And although Abaddon had full confidence in his own abilities, he now begrudgingly realized that… there might truly be a gap between them.
It wasn't just combat ability. It was everything: leading a Legion, managing logistics, diplomacy—all of it.
"What's up?"
Hades had finally finished eating. He patted Abaddon on the shoulder, casually—though, to be fair, he was doing his best not to stare at Abaddon's towering topknot.
'Why?' Hades thought with mild despair. 'You're such a good-looking guy—why that haircut?'
Of course, he couldn't just say, "Hey, maybe try a new hairstyle. This one's... well, it's tragic." If he did, Abaddon would probably challenge him to a duel to the death right then and there.
Just like he couldn't exactly walk up to Horus and say: Hey, maybe don't betray the Imperium in the future. Also, don't start that nonsense Warrior Lodge thing. Oh, and if you could, shoot Erebus. Twice.
Some truths, from this vantage point, simply couldn't be said. And no one else would know they were truths. The only reason he could speak plainly to Mortarion was because that guy trusted him.
Still, maybe he could try—
Hades crossed his arms, sighing as he recalled the taste of that pastry. He'd eaten too fast and missed the flavor.
"Abaddon."
Hades suddenly spoke, out of nowhere.
"I think you're really good at diplomacy. Do you handle most of the Lunar Wolves' foreign affairs?"
Abaddon blinked. What now?
"I handle a small portion of the low-priority ones. Most of the post-campaign negotiations are actually done by Sejanus."
"Sejanus wasn't here today."
"He's more suited to formal occasions. I'm the one who deals with... this sort of thing."
Abaddon felt a little irritated. Was Hades mocking him?
But then Hades' eyes lit up, sincere and focused.
"You should consider doing more diplomacy, Ezekyle. As a Death Guard, I really enjoyed talking to you—Sejanus didn't give me quite the same feeling."
Sejanus—the rational voice in the Luna Wolves. The one person truly capable of reining Horus in. He would later be assassinated during a diplomatic mission to another human civilization.
In truth, Sejanus was too upright. If it had been Abaddon—the man with perfect social instincts, who survived a millennium under the Chaos Gods without losing his mind—he'd probably have sniffed out the ambush immediately.
Hades looked at Abaddon with a calm smile, completely unbothered, as though his advice were the most natural thing in the world.
"By the way, those Tech-Priests told me your comments earlier were really concise. They said they'd prefer if the next briefings were handled by the two of us."
Abaddon was startled. The unexpected praise left him a bit at a loss. "To be honest… I don't think I contributed much in that meeting."
"That's because you're not familiar with their facial expressions. See, when the left indicator light blinks twice—that means they're pleased."
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