Chapter 405: The Secular City

"You are always unwilling to blame yourself for the evil you have done, but blame Him and the world." - "The Book of Lorgar"

Perturabo asked the mechanical arm behind him to put the data board back on the table, gathered the manuscript paper and pens that were gradually piled up on the table, and thought about the short message from Lion El'Jonson.

The Lion King was rarely generous, and shared the news he obtained from the ground exploration with the other three Primarchs as soon as possible. The answer he gave, although unexpected, was also in line with reasonable logic.

They all knew that the Randan aliens would take the consciousness and organic matter of other life forms into their bodies in some form and expand based on this.

So, a stronger foreign consciousness - such as the Word Bearers, whose fanaticism is probably only matched by another order of their own in the entire Space Marines, defeating a weak and powerless original Randan consciousness is undoubtedly a great possibility.

However... Perturabo continued to think, and the feather pen stayed on the mouth of the water cup for a moment.

The moment before the pen tip touched the water, he noticed the movement of his right hand, and immediately moved the pen away as if nothing had happened, dipping it in ink in the right place.

However, first of all, how did Lion successfully cross half the planet to track a lone consciousness? According to the information sent back by Kroger, a member of the assault team, they did not send any information to El'Jonson at all.

Did the First Primarch follow the radio waves emitted by the monitoring device that Perturabo accidentally designed too powerful and tracked their signals in reverse?

No, this should not be possible.

The Iron Lord casually made an impression sketch of the interior decoration on a new piece of paper, and the theme was chosen as the Wanderer's Temple a few hours ago. This will help him stabilize his inner state.

The second question - a doubt about the Randan alien species that accidentally entered Perturabo's heart.

Since their consciousness can be defeated, how did they develop the basic source of consciousness that can ensure their victory in the first place, rather than falling from hunter to prey and destroying themselves in the process of devouring?

Two questions lingered in the Iron Lord's mind at the same time. He allowed himself to think about a painting for a while.

The solemn and solemn scene of the temple was enhanced by a large number of orderly lines and a large perspective composition. Even if it was just a casual sketch, the atmosphere and basic painting skills reflected in it were enough to make almost all painters in the galaxy pale in comparison.

This is why Perturabo did not like to show his paintings in front of mortals. He did not need to use this talent to exchange for the admiration of others.

The Iron Lord put the last stroke on the paper, outlining the flames rising from the four candlesticks next to the statue one by one. He was slightly nervous because of Lorgar's attitude, and for a brief moment he doubted whether the number "four" would be related to him.

"I know you didn't leave." He put down the pen, rubbed his temples, and said to the air.

"You guessed it, Perturabo," Morse emerged generously from the air. He was sitting in his chair, lying on his back in a way that was not good for his cervical spine, and writing some words on the data board with an electronic pen.

Perturabo was not sure whether it was the report that Morse would bring back as the Emperor's emissary this time, or some other random essays.

"You are not in a hurry to leave?" asked the Iron Lord, "I thought you were really busy."

"That depends on who you compare it with," Morse replied, sitting up a little straighter in the recliner, "Looking for me?"

"They are very curious about you, Morse. Aurelion, and Horus."

Morse held up his electronic pen, "I heard it, Iron Lord. By the way, the church is well painted."

"You must be changing the subject."

"Obviously I am preventing you from exploring a question that you are obviously also very curious about, so I decided to ask the Lord of the Fourth Legion as an emissary from Terra how your next round of offensive plans will unfold."

"If you want to see," Perturabo extended the mechanical arm, and each claw of the front claw flipped to horizontal, so as to lift a whole stack of documents on the table that was more than a foot thick from the bottom.

"Oh, let me guess, is this a catalog or an index?"

"When did I make the battle design so lengthy? That would be equivalent to abandoning the subsequent changes in the actual situation." Perturabo retorted, "This is the next internal reference, which contains some basic combat viewpoints and methods adapted to the Randan front, including the command system of the orbital support force, the principles and basic methods of using different ammunition, the artillery preparation and support of the front, and the artillery support plan for infantry located in the depth of the enemy's defense, etc."

He glanced at the thick document held up by the mechanical claw with a satisfied look. , the sense of accomplishment brought by writing it is better than drawing a perfect painting, "As for the plan itself, it is expected to reach the detectable core of Randan in the next five years, and then start from the core to the three unexplored sides outside."

"Do you hope that Randan is a large hive that can cause the collapse of the race if the core is broken?"

"This is indeed our reasonable hope, otherwise the battles in the remaining three quadrants in the star cluster will be as time-consuming and resource-intensive as the battle we are currently fighting in the first quadrant." Perturabo said, putting the test print of the internal information of the Iron Warriors he wrote back on the table.

"And be patient," Morse replied, turning the electronic pen in his hand, "What a long battle, attack-death-exploration-occupation, I see a cycle, and for the entire empire..."

He clasped his fingers to stop the pen's rotation. "This is not an urging, Perturabo. No one will question the Primarch, let alone four. Even the Emperor is not in a hurry."

"I know," said Perturabo, "So what identity did you have when you walked beside the Emperor?"

Morse raised his eyebrows in surprise: "When did you change the topic?"

"Now." Perturabo said, and at the same time sent the internal reference document of this issue to the Iron Warriors internal channel, and called on the mortal clerk to print a certain number of them.

Morse thought for a while, "I told you, after telling the whole thing, I will never be the embarrassed one. But considering the personalities of the two people who are curious now, they will not Love the answers they are exploring.”

"You can just talk to me."

"No." Morse lay back in the chair, covered the data pad on his chest, and closed his eyes. "But you can ask, how about it be a guessing game?"

Perturabo did not answer immediately. He frowned slightly because he received a new summary of casualty information. At the same time, in this batch of reports, he received another application to cancel the squad mode and rejoin the legion-level frontline operations. Report.

This is not an isolated case. But this time the applicant was the 23rd Team, which had a great record in the past.

"Why doesn't Horus like it?" He asked first, while unfolding the report in his mind, and retrieved the data information of the Kroger team again, adjusting his thinking, and facing this situation in a more emotional state. The sentiment implicit in a report.

"Why does Horus dislike it? The reason is simple. Why doesn't Horus like Malcador? Why does he dislike Waldo? It's all the same. He doesn't know who I used to be, so he can't be like me. Think of me like Malcador," Mors shrugged, "Oh, luckily I sided with Horus on the issue of the Mortal Council. I'm so lucky."

"Lunar Wolves, sometimes I do feel that this legion is more emotional." Perturabo said, part of his mind immersed in the communications recorded by Kroger's auxiliary system, listening to the moon with his own ears. Every little change in the wolf's tone of voice.

"The essence of every Legion is based on the coexistence of sensibility and reason," Morse commented. "You can feel their emotions, and it is sensibility that makes them Space Marines - because anyone who is rational enough can I know that I shouldn’t completely immerse my limited life in the abyss of eternal battle.”

"No," Perturabo raised his head, "They..."

He paused for a while, and then continued: "Express the side that is similar to mortals to the outside."

"Really?" Morse was noncommittal. He turned the electronic pen in his hand half a circle. He suddenly raised the data pad and wrote two lines of words on it. His eyes stayed between them, without any fluctuation in the expression on his face.

Perturabo attached the request with the responses they would need, and began preparations to reorganize the two warriors into their companies and to promote Kroger to the rank of squad leader.

As for Hammer, Perturabo thought for half a second and gave him a promotion.

"Any more questions?" Morse asked, looking away from his notes.

"What about Lorgar Aurelion? What could make him unhappy? He has an unusual amount of concern and respect for anyone close to the Emperor."

Perturabo said, noting that Leon El'Jonson refused to join them even after the ground campaign was over. Instead, he moved his fleet and headed straight in a specific direction.

Perhaps disclosing the Legion's movements to them was the last remaining friendship left to them by the Dark Angels.

"I remember that you read a lot about the history of Ancient Terra, my Iron Lord, otherwise you wouldn't know the story of the two wolves." Morse said, his voice sounded a little joking, "Although because of the unpleasantness when building the city, I am Roma has always had strong opinions, but sometimes what they say makes me very interesting.”

He delved into his past memories, reminiscing about pleasant little disputes. These memories are surprisingly clear, proving that an older person is indeed more likely to remember stories from earlier in life more vividly.

"They seek worldly things and forsake heavenly things. What do these detractors of the law say about the Savior when they reject the judgment of heaven and implore me - The Donatists appealed, although this sect "I'm afraid Aurelion is also a heretic in his eyes now," Morse said with great enthusiasm when mentioning these topics, "Guess what the emperor responded to this petition?"

"Criticism." Just by looking at Morse's attitude, Perturabo could guess some snippets of history.

"He burned the petition," said Morse easily, "and said that we mortals had no right to judge the bishop; and that if they intended to appeal, it should not be submitted to the courts, but left directly to God, to do their divine review.”

Perturabo gave a brief smile, "It follows the canon, literally."

"Let them live in a vacuum, don't let the world taint their faith." Morse shrugged, "Many believers call Rome an evil kingdom, but some of them support the continuation of Rome. 'Rome is the end of all things. The last human kingdom before, the respite given to the Roman Empire would delay the upheavals that would grip the world.'"

"The end of the world?"

"Then build a new one or something." The craftsman said, "But if you have to ask, I think Terra ended long ago. The thing now is probably some kind of suspicious gold-encrusted rotten corpse. About the New World Aurelion should know that - by the way, did I mention that he almost has the same name as a Roman emperor? This makes me even more curious about the origin of your name."

"You are in conflict with one another, your Rome and your Church."

"Sometimes combined with each other." Morse sneered.

"It sounds like you know a lot of interesting things that are barely preserved in any of Terra's great libraries."

"Because that was a story from 30,000 years ago, and we can't even figure out the history from a hundred years ago." Morse laughed.

"So, you hate religion?"

Mors tilted his head and glanced at Perturabo. "It is stipulated in the Edict of Milan that all others should be allowed to practice their religion freely and without restriction. This was certainly to ensure the stability of the monarchy, but why would denying the sacramental life of the church be detrimental to the rule of the empire? "

"Citizen." The Lord of Olympia gave the answer easily. Maybe not everyone can notice that for most of Perturabo's life so far, he has been the master of a not-so-small political system. .

Morse raised his lips: "Let's make a simple assumption. We all know that people have things they want and things they don't want. Right - you can actually continue to multitask at the same time. If I delay your work , I might as well go back to Terra to report on my duties.”

Perturabo took his drawing paper again and superimposed a new silhouette in the center. The first subject he chose to paint was Aurelion - even if it was just a dark figure, bowing reverently before the icon of the Emperor.

"tell him.

"What they did here was make a noun definition, calling the place with the former as heaven, and the place with more of the latter as hell, and then added a theory of divine command, saying that the moral law was established by Him."

"A decree?" Perturabo raised an eyebrow.

"Essence is more basic than decrees. They didn't fundamentally change anything, Lord of Iron. They just built an explanatory framework and created a set of formulas to analyze the world. While limiting the perspective from which people observe the world, they also provided A basic transcendental perspective.”

Morse paused, "He provides an enlightening law to those who have a limited perception of the world, and also to those whose perception of the world exceeds the interpretation that this framework can provide, or who are simply hostile to this framework. , a perfect object of ridicule.”

“Teach people from what angles they can view the world?”

"With whatever justification anyone who creates that angle needs."

"It's like calling psychic numerology." Perturabo put down his pen and smiled.

"That's right," Morse said. "A very fitting metaphor. It's not even a lie, it's just... another framework, I think, that's particularly limited, particularly dogmatic, and particularly doesn't like to be broken. Earthly City To the City of God, to Rome to the Church, the two interpretive frameworks and attendant power systems are always separate from each other, and always try to encroach upon each other.”

The Thinker's screen next to Perturabo lit up.

The Lord of Iron was distracted again, put down the drawing of Morse who was secretly extinguishing the candle next to Lorgar's back, and went to receive the latest astrological communication news. At the same time, he said: "Maybe Lorgar knows nothing about Rome. You know, Morse, he won't think there's anything wrong with your origins."

"But he will certainly hear my side," Morse joked. "Perhaps the day when we two become one will come only after Revelation, brought by the angels. Then I will acknowledge them." The interpretive framework is closer to reality.”

"Oh," said Perturabo in an odd response, "don't take the oath yet, Morse."

"how?"

"The First Legion just made a subspace dive and surfaced - almost immediately." Perturabo reviewed the information at hand.

"Fuck the velocity of warp time," Morse said, "and what?"

"Now the Dark Angels are fighting the Angels."