Chapter 300 Act 4
Ferus Manus stood behind the finish line of the equestrian competition.
At first, he drank some local beer from Olympia in a makeshift tent.
There is a saying in Medusa that you can't tell which of the two barrels is filled with wine and which is filled with diesel by smell or taste; but if someone drinks a few cups and dies the next day, then he is a weak warrior who doesn't deserve to live.
Fortunately, the beer in Olympia does not have that unique taste. The bubbles only bring some numb enjoyment to the sensitive tongue in the most normal way.
When the first batch of contestants in the competition arrived three miles before the finish line, Ferus Manus walked out of the tent and asked the mortal host to take him to the finish line where the horizontal stripes had been pulled up.
He noticed that the stripes were indeed yellow and black, and even though he was usually serious, he couldn't help but raise the corners of his mouth.
Ferrus stood at the side of the track, with his silver hands behind his back, waiting for the month-long equestrian competition to end, and also for the entire Olympic Games to end perfectly.
He wanted to know where Fulgrim was these days. It seemed that since the conflict between Telemanon Lyras and Thor Sahar, Fulgrim and Conrad Curze had never appeared. Thinking of this, he had a headache.
Soon, the first batch of contestants arrived.
Although there were accompanying personnel to look after the contestants throughout the whole process, under the rules of the competition, the only thing they would do was to ensure the basic human rights of these contestants, such as not encountering casualties. In addition, the exploration route, food and accommodation supplies, travel planning, etc. were all solved by the contestants themselves.
Therefore, the contestants were all in their own embarrassment. Even if we don’t mention other aspects, first of all, most of them didn’t find a chance to take a shower.
The champion was a young man wearing animal skins and a huge predatory cat under him, constantly accelerating towards the finish line. He was covered with thick mud with grass.
When he got closer, Ferrus found that judging from the state of his bones, the young contestant was probably no more than fifteen Terran years old; and the thick animal skin that was newly peeled off from the prey even increased his apparent age.
The young contestant rushed across the finish line excitedly, holding the yellow and black stripes on his chest, and then fell to the grass with his animal due to exhaustion. The escort quickly lifted him out of the grass by his hands and feet, preparing to put him in another place to avoid being accidentally trampled by other contestants.
"Bring him here." Ferrus said aloud, he admired the young winner. However, a teenager was able to defeat hundreds of competitors and win the crown of victory, which deserves recognition.
The champion was ahead of the second place by a long way. Ferrus first wanted to ask which planet in the Olympia cluster the champion represented, and then he verified the backwardness of that planet in some ways, such as finding that the champion could not speak Low Gothic and could hardly use a translator.
"It's... different there," the champion's grammar and wording were still a bit strange even after translation, "We hunt, run around, grill, and drink. We like to compete."
"What reward do you want to ask the Lord of Olympia for?" The Primarch asked while thinking.
"I haven't thought about it," the little contestant still held the yellow and black strip in his left hand, and patted his head with his right hand, and mud fell down piece by piece, "Then, my lord, I want to participate in the Iron Warriors."
Perturabo has a good luck. Ferrus Manus thought.
In the distance, more different and dusty contestants began to approach one by one, decorating the blue skyline of Olympia with colors from different planets.
——
"Have I missed a lot of things?" Horus Lupercal sighed, looking a little listless in the center of the frame of the small screen.
During this month, he tried his best to find time to share his experiences with these brothers who were enjoying their leisure time in Olympia. This made him feel that he was connected to them by blood, and they were all descendants of the Emperor.
In the first thirty years of being alone with the Emperor, he thought he would oppose any external interference in this precious sweet life, and could not imagine that the Emperor would have another child to read books, answer questions, and watch the bright starry sky in the observatory.
When Perturabo, Leman Russ, Magnus and other brothers were able to return to Terra one after another, swore allegiance to the Emperor, and gradually took away his uniqueness from his father, there was indeed a period of time when Horus' heart was filled with unbearable bitterness.
Fortunately, he soon adapted to the presence of other Primarchs and realized how fortunate it was to have brothers who shared the same origin and mind with him in this galaxy of war and killing.
Across from the datapad containing Horus, Magnus and Angron looked at each other.
Under the influence of some kind of common tacit understanding, Angron spread his palms on his knees and said to Horus: "We have also arrived in Olympia for a few hours, Horus. Before that, we also have things related to the Great Expedition to deal with."
He decided not to mention that during this period, the two of them had always been by the Emperor's side to assist in the construction of the Webway.
"That's true," Magnus continued, "We missed almost the entire process of the Games, and his warriors took the opportunity to beat up my son."
After speaking, Magnus turned his gaze to Angron and glared at him through the monocle given by Perturabo.
"Don't worry, I believe Perturabo will not forget to send you an invitation when he remembers to hold another large-scale event decades later." Horus comforted, "You are so important to the Lord of Iron that there is no need to say more."
"Oh..." Magnus admitted that he felt a sense of regret for no reason when facing Horus now.
As the first son of the Emperor to return to Terra, Horus Lupercal is still conquering the stars because of his personal advantages and abilities, and he still doesn't know the existence of the Webway.
In addition, he is the one who really missed the Games, but now he comes to comfort him and Angron.
Then Magnus thought of the Primarchs who were still immersed in the expedition and had not even received a live broadcast. In contrast, he quickly forgave himself in his heart.
Magnus stood up and lowered his head slightly to prevent himself from hitting the top of the tent.
Mors's last drama was about to begin, and it was said that the protagonist this time would be the Emperor. While he was looking forward to it, he couldn't help but question what legend Mors had unscrupulously tampered with.
He picked up the data tablet and held it in his arms. Angron stood up with him, lifted the plain brown and red velvet curtain of the tent, and walked towards the city of Lokos.
On the way, Horus was inevitably surprised when he passed the black tower high-rise built overnight on the outskirts of the city by Konrad Curze's strange army.
The Wolf God had not yet met the Primarch of the Eighth Legion, but the living habits of Konrad Curze that he had seen in the data board these days, as well as his... unfussy artwork, did leave Horus with some unforgettable memories.
However, Horus was willing to believe that such an eccentric brother was willing to contribute to the Great Crusade and establish a good relationship with Perturabo, which just showed how noble his nature was, and how worthy of respect his personality was hidden under the cold appearance and bloody hobby.
"Okay, Horus," Magnus said, "I calculated the time, it's time to go to the theater! The Emperor is the main actor today!"
——
Curze grabbed the hammer, tossed it repeatedly in his hand for several rounds, and then put it back on the ground in boredom. The handle of the hammer leaned against the corner of the table, making a slight knock.
He continued to turn around in the workshop, and the steam and smoke sometimes covered his body, and sometimes revealed it.
This temporarily attracted Vulkan's attention. The Lord of Fire Dragon smiled at Curze and continued to tell the mortal craftsmen around him about his personal experience in studying forging.
In addition to watching the game and dealing with the legion's affairs at every moment, Vulkan ran through the blacksmith shops and workshops in the city to find everything to enrich his life.
At the beginning, the locals were half afraid of him and half respectful of him. He knew that his appearance was indeed a bit scary, but he didn't mind. Sure enough, after a day or two of communication, whenever he appeared in the workshop, people all hurriedly gathered around him to listen to what he was going to say next.
As for the Night Demon Blood Marquis, who had an even more terrifying temperament, after the second act of the drama performed by him ended, the locals' love for him suddenly rose to a new level.
Even though he often appeared and disappeared like a ghost, except for young children, most of the locals were willing to greet him with a friendly and curious attitude.
This further reduced the number of times Conrad Curze appeared in the crowd.
"That's all for today, friends," Vulkan glanced at the sky outside the window, "The closing ceremony will be in the evening."
"Will you leave after today?" A child brought by a craftsman poked his head out, carefully stretched out his short fingers, and poked the corner of Vulkan's robe. "Can you stay for a few more days?"
"Why do you have so much free time to be lazy and enjoy yourself?" Conrad Coze suddenly appeared behind the child, and his cold fingers stroked the child's head, frightening the child to tremble all over.
Coze hummed softly, strolled to Vulkan, and turned back to lean against the table.
"You go," he said lazily, "If the wheel of the universe is also merciful, our yarns will overlap again."
After the several mortals gathered in the workshop left, the hall, which originally had little space, seemed empty.
The Fire Dragon Lord put away the blacksmith tools he had borrowed and asked, "What happened to Fulgrim, Konrad?"
"Do I look like I know?" Konrad Curze shrugged.
"Yes." Vulkan smiled, knowing that Curze was particularly bad at dealing with such answers.
As expected, Curze seemed to choke for a moment, glanced at him with pure black eyes, and suddenly sighed.
"I only know what kind of troubles he encountered, but I don't know what path he is on now. Although I have taken some actions in the process, I don't know what the pros and cons of my actions are, whether I have done good or done evil by mistake."
"In any case, the Emperor and Perturabo himself are accompanying the Phoenix, and I dare to predict that things will be good."
--
"Rogal Dorn, how many times do you have to mention Akurduna before you can confirm that the Chief Swordmaster of the Emperor's Children is lying in a hospital bed with serious injuries and unconscious, and it is a miracle that he is still alive?"
Mechanical Perturabo said to Rogal Dorn, throwing down the hollow iron ball in his hand and putting down the portable homemade laser engraving pen. Due to the existence of the hollow pattern, the iron ball stayed steadily on the table without rolling, showing the exquisite and delicate texture on the surface of the sphere.
This is a panoramic miniature craft ornament of the planet Olympia, with a diameter of about the length of a mortal's palm. Perturabo decided to give it to Kaliphon before leaving.
Before the last play of the Grand Theater and the closing ceremony, he took out the iron ball while waiting with Rogal Dorn in the Palace of Lokos, and further carved it.
"This is only the second time I ask, Perturabo." Rogal Dorn did not smile or get angry, and stated his point of view with his usual attitude. "If you answer me, I don't need to ask it a third time."
Sometimes Perturabo wondered whether this stubborn stone primarch from Inwit really didn't know that his words and deeds were abominable, or he had a special liking for the identity of actively angering others.
Not long ago, he and Ferrus Manus were chatting after exchanging technology, and only then did he learn that the last time this stone had a conflict with Ferrus was because Dorn accused Ferrus of being impulsive and belligerent in front of the soldiers.
"Well, I have answered it." Perturabo turned his eyes to a plate of fruit on the table.
After these days of continuous consumption, the food reserves of the planet Olympia and the surrounding planets were consumed at a very fast rate, and the gene-edited grapes that the Primarchs most often ate were finally only this plate in front of him.
When he thought that his mechanical body placed here was not convenient for eating, he became extra angry. This was probably the emotional impact that Rogal Dorn had on him.
"Before I leave Olympia, can Akurduna recover his combat capability?" Rogal Dorn threw out the second line of his question list.
"Fulgrim is guarding Akurduna. I don't think the Astartes can recover in just a few days." Perturabo paused, "He shed his last drop of blood in the battle - a metaphor, not a literal meaning. What's wrong?"
Rogal Dorn nodded and explained the reason: "My Templar Sigismund has always wanted to conduct combat exercises with him again. He believes that the battle with Akurduna made him rediscover his personal limits, and hopes that Akurduna can be used as a test for the Haskar Guard to broaden my guard's horizons and understanding of combat."
He took a breath, and seeing that the mechanical Perturabo did not interrupt him, he went on to talk about the third thing.
"Also, I am concerned about Fulgrim and Akurduna. Have the Emperor's Children survived the occasional crisis?"
"More than survived," Perturabo smiled. "How can a phoenix rest in ashes?"
He listened, and heard a rallying cry from the Lokos Theatre, carried by the bells around the city, and drifted far away across the surface of Olympia.
"The fourth act is coming," he said. "We go to the Theatre."