Chapter 287: You Kicking Me Out?
After the excitement of watching the Primarchs brawl faded, Hades suddenly realized a terrifying fact—
Mortarion had changed.
It was a kind of… indescribable change. Hades wasn't sure whether Mortarion had always been like this, or whether he had elevated himself further in that fight against Konrad Curze.
It wasn't just the madness Mortarion displayed while clashing with Curze, nor that terrifyingly sharp battlefield intuition of his…
—Had Mortarion always been like this?
Wait— back during the Galaspar campaign, Mortarion had indeed shown hints of such tendencies.
But this felt different.
The most striking difference was that, when Hades finally left the medical room and returned to his office, he discovered that the number of documents needing his approval had greatly decreased.
For a second, Hades even indulged in a conspiracy theory—was he about to be sidelined? His desk held no new documents at all, and even the old ones had vanished.
He later found out that wasn't the case. All legion matters requiring attention had been carried over to the Primarch's desk by Vorx and Garro, and Mortarion himself, and was approving them one by one.
When he saw Hades, Mortarion merely lifted his gaze faintly, then continued with that corpse-like expression, writing away.
Hades looked up, and noticed two new frames hung on the Primarch's office wall.
Within them were a blue-and-white envelope and a gold-and-white envelope, quietly on display, completely at odds with the otherwise bleak and gloomy room.
Before this, Mortarion's chambers had only ever displayed the Death Guard's banner, nothing else.
Hades' mouth opened slightly—had Mortarion finally gone mad?
He walked over, carefully inspecting the two letters—he suddenly realized where the limited-edition stationery from his own private collection had disappeared to.
"…Mortarion, this is?"
Mortarion didn't even lift his head.
[Decoration.]
Ha. As if. Hades wasn't buying that for a second.
He glanced again at Mortarion, still locked in an immersive struggle with the paperwork, and slowly reached out a hand toward the frame—
Smack!
In an instant, a steel pen embedded itself deep into the wall, trembling from the speed of impact. Its tip was only millimeters away from Hades' fingers.
Hades sucked in a sharp breath of cold air. Slowly turning back, he saw Mortarion casually pull another pen from the holder and resume drafting reports.
[There is no need for you to look at those, Hades.]
Hades silently pulled his hand back.
"Ah… haha, ha… ha…"
He swallowed hard.
"Mortarion… if something's troubling you, it's best to talk about it. Early detection, early treatment."
Mortarion finally lifted his head from the pile of documents, gazing at Hades with a calm but bitter look—the kind of look that made Hades suspect the paperwork itself might actually kill the Primarch.
[If you truly have nothing to do, then I don't mind assigning you more tasks.]
Mortarion said evenly.
"Ah, I just remembered, the Armoury called me about something—the price of No. 3 screws has been halved—"
"Ahem, no, I mean, Mortarion, what's the situation with the Luna Wolves? And the Night Lords, and the Imperium? I haven't received any word about it at all."
[All is stable.]
Mortarion replied quietly. But then he watched Hades stride quickly away from that damned picture frame and plant himself directly across from his desk.
Hades fixed him with a serious, calm expression.
"Tell me the details, Mortarion. The surveillance footage from that sector, along with Vorx's helmet recordings—they've all been deliberately deleted."
Beneath Mortarion's mask came a faint sigh. He lifted his head and looked calmly at Hades.
[Do you know what Garro said to me then?]
Hades froze.
"What?"
[Can I truly be a worthy legion commander?]
Mortarion said helplessly.
His blank expression lingered on Hades' face as it shifted from shock, to barely contained amusement—and sure enough, Hades failed to hold it in. He burst out laughing, so hard that his wounds tore open again, forcing him to squat down while still laughing.
At last, after stifling his laughter with some effort, Hades stood up.
"I get it, I get why Garro said that. Let me guess—you wanted to take risks, and Garro tried to hold you back? Was he trying to provoke you?"
[He almost succeeded.]
Mortarion admitted matter-of-factly.
Hades straightened his expression into something serious.
"You really should put more effort into internal affairs and diplomacy. Garro and Vorx are under heavy pressure, and the rest of the staff officers are overloaded too."
—Though in truth, you're the one with the heaviest workload, Hades.
Mortarion thought silently, but said nothing.
Hades' enthusiasm had always burned brightest. Mortarion had assumed he liked managing legion affairs—truth be told, Hades really did present himself that way.
Mortarion was never a tyrant who craved power, and he trusted Hades. Naturally, he had left most matters in Hades' hands.
Only now was he realizing the weight of pressure hidden behind that workload, and what his own true feelings were when faced with endless stacks of tedious paperwork.
In a way, Garro wasn't wrong.
Mortarion's gaze drifted away, pausing briefly on the blue-and-white envelope. Then he pulled a few documents from the pile and handed them to Hades, changing the subject.
[Because I had another private talk with Curze. At the very least, we settled our personal feud.]
Mortarion said with a trace of irony.
[The Luna Wolves seem relieved. Honestly, I never thought I'd see Horus wear that kind of expression—]
[Truth be told, if I hadn't been speaking to him through the comms, if I had told him the outcome face to face, the Lupercal might have… crushed me in a bear hug hard enough to dislocate my skeleton.]
[After that he reached out to the Night Lords as well. I imagine their answer was more or less the same. So now he's busy negotiating with that human civilization, and preparing to receive a reply from Terra—that answer should be arriving soon.]
Hades quickly skimmed through the documents—
"Wait a minute—negotiations?"
[Yes, negotiations. While we were locked in that standoff with the Night Lords, Horus clearly wasn't focused on just one thing. He was eager to sweep away as many problems as possible. He realized that the Death Guard could never cooperate with the Night Lords, so he took it upon himself to contact that human civilization…]
Mortarion said, sounding a little irritated.
[Horus chose to grant that civilization certain favorable terms to encourage their voluntary surrender. This isn't the first time—nor the second. The Luna Wolves do this kind of thing regularly.]
He pulled out another sheaf of papers.
Hades recognized them as the ones Mortarion had been reading in the medical room.
[First tax season: no tithe. Second tax season: only a 10% tithe. With each passing quarter, increase the tithe by 20%, until the full levy is reached.]
Hades studied the terms carefully. In addition, the document also listed benefits granted by the Imperium.
Access to Imperial trade routes, rights to contact a Forge World…
Hades spoke softly, "He's framing it as something… more like a partnership. The tithe looks more like a membership fee, and in return he grants them enormous autonomy."
—Horus had, in a sense, packaged his language.
In truth, except for those civilizations that utterly violated the Imperial Truth, the Imperium did allow a great deal of autonomy—largely because it simply lacked the capacity to govern directly. But on paper, the contracts usually looked extremely rigid, leaving planets seemingly with little to no independence.
And in theory, that was how it ought to be. Unfortunately, apart from the tithe system, the Imperium had never built up any other effective institutions.
Mortarion gave a small nod.
[Horus gave this document to the Death Guard as well, asking whether we agreed with this kind of approach—because if taxes aren't collected immediately, then such a conquest can hardly be called "glory and honor."]
"The Death Guard don't care about that."
Hades said softly.
[Indeed,] Mortarion actually smiled, [we don't care.]
He continued,
[It all depends on whether the Lupercal can fully convince the other side. From what I know, negotiations are still ongoing—Horus even revealed the positions of three legions, just to make them realize they have no chance of victory.]
"A bit risky."
Hades remarked.
Mortarion replied with utter indifference,[The legion closest to their territory is the Night Lords. After them are the Luna Wolves, and last of all the Death Guard. I sort of hoping for that civilization to still have the spirit to resist.]
…For a moment, Hades thought to himself that maybe that wasn't so bad.
Sacrificing a legion as bait… If it were another legion, Hades would likely argue for minimizing casualties. But the Night Lords? Better to let them burn.
By the later Great Crusade, the Night Lords' recruits were all criminals and degenerates, and Sevatar was little more than a rare mutant bat.
Not to mention Konrad Curze himself was a lunatic.
And… if that was the case, then Horus's reckless maneuver this time became… far more intriguing.
Even though Mortarion had already punished Curze personally, Hades still needed to ensure that afterward—and even further into the future—the Night Lords would never become a genuine threat to the Death Guard…
"What about the Imperium? What did they say?"
[No civil war. No propaganda. All records erased.]
Mortarion's voice cooled.
[I should have realized it sooner. Konrad Curze—my so-called 'brother'—he's already neck-deep in sin. Horus said, according to 'rumor,' that even before us, Curze had already quarreled with Magnus, Guilliman, Dorn, and Vulkan.]
[Of course, I can only sincerely hope that in his conflict with Magnus, the two of them might vanish together.]
A shard of Mortarion's cold humor. Hades chuckled.
"That's all the Imperium said?"
[There's more.]
Mortarion fixed his gaze on Hades.
[They want you to remain still. No warp jumps.]
Hades' smile froze. He had already sensed something was wrong… But since he couldn't release the Black Domain on a large scale, he couldn't yet confirm what exactly had become of that golden psychic presence.
Mortarion spoke slowly.
[They…]
[They may take you away, Head of the Silent Sisterhood.]
He fell silent. For an instant, Hades even saw in Mortarion's eyes an unwillingness, regret, and even a cautious, tentative plea.
[What do you think, Hades?]
After a pause, Mortarion suddenly continued,
[I know that perhaps, compared to the Death Guard, the Silent Sisterhood suits your nature better. You see—back then, you chose to remain with the Death Guard. But… the Death Guard never truly gave you what you wanted, did they?]
[Power? What comes with it is despairing responsibility. And your bond with Barbarus has already faded since the legion began recruiting from other worlds…]
[And… there was this incident, and that collaboration with the Iron Warriors.]
Mortarion's gaze wavered, flicking toward the two letters behind Hades.
[Leaving the Death Guard wouldn't harm your prospects in the Imperium. Compared to always being the second-in-command within the legion, you'd gain more authority and glory elsewhere—without being burdened by endless worries about resources and political standing.]
[So,] Mortarion continued,[If you choose to leave the Death Guard, I would understand your decision. I would hold no resentment, no opposition.]
His wandering eyes returned suddenly, fixing on Hades with an almost fragile intensity.
[I spoke nothing but truth, Hades.]
Hades didn't know whether he should be more shocked that Mortarion had just spoken so many words in one breath, or by the content of those words.
Could it be… Mortarion felt guilty toward him?
A thought surfaced in Hades' mind, tinged with mischief.
Mortarion studied Hades carefully. He was glad Hades had seen Curze's apology—but that couldn't erase reality. Reality remained as it was, and that reality left Mortarion heavy-hearted.
He kept watching… and Hades laughed?
"You trying to kick me out, Mortarion?"
Mortarion's mind thundered. He hadn't expected that reaction.
That wasn't what he meant at all.
[…No.]
"No what?"
Hades waited patiently for the answer, casually flipping through the files on Mortarion's desk to keep track of the legion's situation.
[That's not what I mean. You remain an irreplaceable and vital figure in the Death Guard. Your authority within the legion is immense. Neither the new recruits nor the veterans want you gone. If you left, it would deal a grievous blow to the Death Guard.]
After drowning in lethal amounts of paperwork, even Mortarion had apparently learned the art of bureaucratic politicking, Hades mused such though silently.
"Then why'd you even bring up me leaving?"
Hades asked offhandedly, striking again for critical damage.
[…I don't want you to leave.]
"That's all I needed to hear."
Hades sorted the documents in his hand back into neat piles.
"It still depends on what Terra decides… Sure, my condition troubles me, but I'm not willing to leave the Death Guard. Otherwise, what would all my years of work amount to?"
"All my years of effort—just thrown away?"
Mortarion immediately straightened, his voice solemn.
[No matter what happens, you will always hold supreme command within the Death Guard…]
Then he faltered, as though summoning the courage of a man facing execution.
[…Even if the Imperium were to assign you to the Ultramarines.]
—?
Huh??
"Why in the Throne's name would I go to the Ultramarines?"
Even before finishing the question, realization struck Hades like lightning. He spun around—
His eyes locked on that blue envelope.
In an instant, he lunged for it.
Mortarion, realizing what Hades intended, leapt in shock. The Lord of Death unleashed speed at nine-tenths of his full terrifying capacity, racing to seize the letter that Hades already had in his hand, just about to open—
In the end, Mortarion emerged the victor.
And Hades… found himself once again back in the medical room.
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