Warhammer: In the Name of Nirvana

"What are you doing, Apocalypse?"

+Ah, Malcador, my friend! You've arrived just in time: come and help me. +

"What for you?"

+I'm searching my private vault for the guillotine I collected before. +

+The one that chopped me down: I think I need it to be re-employed now. +

"...Ah?"

The Sigillite was stunned: this ruling machine, who had just finished handling more than 400,000 volumes of urgent official business from Holy Terra and all over the Empire in his private office without even a glass of water, couldn't help but start to wonder if his priceless head hadn't had a good rest for too long.

Is he hallucinating now?

It shouldn't be: didn't he just rest for three minutes eighty hours ago?

The Sigillite kept muttering in his heart. He actually didn't want to deal with the mess caused by the Emperor, because Malcador knew that once he dealt with it, it would be endless and laborious like before: if his luck was worse, the follow-up impact might even affect decades later.

This was not groundless worry.

After all, there was a living example in front of him: in the hundreds of years that Malcador had worked with the Emperor, the various messes and unfinished business thrown to him by the Lord of Mankind had at least four digits, but none of them could be more dangerous than the Emperor's beloved son, the wolf god Horus.

You know, the gene father of the Luna Wolves brought Malcador danger in the literal sense: Don’t look at how the Sigillite showed off his power in front of Horus. He could use only one arm to force the powerful wolf god to kneel on the ground, making him completely unable to resist. The life and future of the Primarch were in Malcador’s hands, and he could only beg for forgiveness.

At least in the eyes of outsiders, even in the eyes of Chagatai Khan who was present, this was the situation at the time: and those who knew the Sigillite a little better, such as Morgan and Alpharius, would not be frightened like their brothers, but they would also be more wary of the Sigillite in their hearts.

But one's own affairs are known to oneself, and no one knows the inside story and actual situation better than the Sigillite himself: Malcador will never forget how much strength and concentration he used to defeat Horus in the scene and achieve his original purpose of using the most ruthless means to shock the arrogance of the Primarchs.

Looking at his 6,000 years of life, such a big scene is also among the best.

The Sigillite even forgot how he survived at that time. He only remembered that after Horus was dragged away by his brothers, he could not recover to his prime for at least half a month. The violent psychic fluctuations brought some hidden injuries to his old body, and even tossed it for several years.

It was also at that time that the Sigillite truly understood how terrible these monsters created by the Lord of Mankind were: you have to know that he was facing Horus, who knew almost nothing about spirits, and he simply used his physical strength and spiritual will to resist Malcador's psychic impact.

The more powerful the psychic, the more aware of how outrageous this scene is.

The Sigillite knows very well: any Primarch who knows a little about the Warp, not to mention Morgan or Magnus, even Mortarion, Leman Russ, Alpharius or even Lorgar, can bring life-threatening danger to the Sigillite.

What?

In theory, Malcador is stronger?

Who would entrust their life and dreams to a bunch of deduced numbers?

In theory, only a Titan larger than the Warhound class can kill a Primarch: the Great Crusade has been going on for so many years, and the human empire has encountered Titan-level opponents as numerous as the stars in the void, and the Empire's expeditionary fleet has also encountered those indescribable creatures that can tear Titans into pieces like snacks.

Didn't the majority of these powerful enemies eventually get eliminated by the Primarchs, either by teaming up or by using tricks? After defeating so many powerful enemies beyond their limits, weren't the Emperor's dozen or so foolish sons still fat and strong, jumping around happily?

They were unkillable. Even if they were theoretically able to kill the Primarchs, they were no match for these demigods in practice. As for how the Emperor's descendants destroyed these monsters that they were absolutely no match for in theory, it was a scene that no one would believe even if it was written in a novel.

Take Fulgrim, for example: this galaxy-renowned swordsman once strangled a Cain incarnation that was essentially just a statue in a rage. The thing didn't even have blood flowing in its body, but magma.

That's right, he strangled a statue.

The Emperor's Children wrote in the battle report that Fulgrim strangled the Eldar god of war, Cain, until he squeezed the life out of the alien: After reading this report, Malcador picked and chose in his six thousand years of life wisdom, but couldn't imagine what the scene would be like at that time.

But a blessing in disguise: The Sigillite also figured out a truth.

The Emperor had explained this to him long before the Primarchs were created, but it took Malcador decades to truly understand: these seemingly human-like descendants of the Emperor were actually just a group of monsters in human skin, and the elements related to humans in them were even lower than those of Malcador, an immortal.

This made the Sigillite extremely fearful: he knew very well how many types of humans there were in him.

An existence less human than him...

Malcador felt a chill in his heart. He somewhat understood the hatred that had arisen in him every time he thought of or heard the names of the Primarchs during this period of time: it was the fear of things that were completely beyond his control, the fear of powerful predators, and the madness when facing things that were completely incomprehensible.

They were all monsters.

More monsters than him.

At least the Sigillite was sure that he could not strangle a statue flowing with magma with his hands.

And now, his dear master threw him in front of these dozen monsters: whether it was the dirty truth about the missing eleventh Primarch, or the inevitable conflicts between Holy Teda and the auxiliary Primarchs due to various problems after the Emperor focused on his Webway cause, it was enough to make the Sigillite the most unpopular person in the hearts of most Primarchs.

Even the death penalty list: there must be more people who want to kill him than those who want to save him.

This is obvious. The only two Primarchs who have some respect for the Sigillite are Alpharius and Leman Russ: others like Jonson, Ferrus, Perturabo and Dorn respect him because of the Emperor's order, Fulgrim hides his inner disgust, and the Khan does not hide it at all. Vulkan has a desire to protect everyone, Corax is not sure whether the Sigillite meets the standard of corrupt officials in his mind, and Mortarion will give him some respect when he is in use, and [old thing] when he is not in use.

On this point, the Lord of Barbarus and Morgan have an amazing tacit understanding.

As for the Lord of Avalon, Morgan sees Malcador more as a partner. She has no reason to abandon her interests to protect Malcador. After all, the potential conflict between Holy Terra and Avalon is far greater than the existing interests: As for Guilliman and Conrad, they always follow the lead of the Spider Queen on this issue.

This has been a clue for a long time. Although there has always been no lack of conflicts and interests within the Far East Three Kingdoms: hundreds of worlds and important resource points are changing between the Far East Frontier and the Five Hundred Worlds, Avalon and Nostramo have never stopped fighting over the division of territory and power in the Salamas region, and some treaties related to people's livelihood and transnational commerce have always been the killing field of the three parties' political arena, and countless merchants have destroyed their homes and wealth for them.

But all this is only for the internal: once the three kings of the Far East turn their attention from internal disputes to the entire galaxy because of sudden major events in the outside world or the spying from other interested parties, the degree of unity between them is extremely amazing.

This is not difficult to understand: it is precisely because the internal cultural unity and interest disputes have become so entangled that the three kings will maintain constant struggles. There are too many issues worth their concern. Once the collective interests are damaged, this entanglement will turn into an unbreakable foundation between the three Primarchs. Even if the Gene Primarchs themselves have some small ideas, it is difficult to resist the unified will of the entire country.

The three giants in charge of the Far East have even gradually divided their respective divisions of labor and responsibilities in decades of sincere cooperation: detailed route planning, heavy government affairs and various grand blueprints that take decades or one or two generations to start, all come from the hands of Guilliman, the Lord of Ultramar 500 Worlds. He is systematically responsible for most of the data, people's livelihood and planning in the entire Far East. Even the expansion and redevelopment plan of the business port as far as Nostramo originated from Guilliman's conception.

In contrast, Conrad, who likes to move in the shadows, may not be as important as his brother who sits firmly in the middle hall, but the area he is responsible for is not too replaceable: not to mention the importance of Nostramo to the northern defense line and resource sharing of the entire Far East frontier, just the internal inspection and legal department, which is led by Conrad himself, and is actually responsible for by Sevatar and Orion, and all parties participate, has become a behemoth that can radiate ocean-going combat capabilities to the entire Far East star field.

In fact, in theory, this department was just a police force used by the Three Kings of the Far East to catch smugglers and various pirates, until Conrad creatively incorporated battleships into the fleet of this group of marine police forces, and then equipped them with a marine corps, as well as corresponding fortresses and logistics bases.

As for Guilliman's addition of a small group of Ultramarines, about a few thousand people, into this theoretical police force after the expansion of the army, that is another story: Malcador's latest intelligence on this department is a military report on their successful security and defense work for a small greenskin empire.

As for Morgan?

That's even more of a facade.

Conrad knew eight hundred years ago that he didn't seem to be very good at socializing with others, and although Guilliman was no longer so resistant to visiting relatives and friends, he soon discovered with surprise: just because he didn't resist others, it didn't mean that others didn't resist him.

On this basis, the external spokesperson finally pushed out by the Three Kings was naturally the Spider Queen who was in charge of the entire Far Eastern frontier and had a good reputation in the Empire. In the eyes of the outside world, Conrad and Guilliman have always been taciturn. They have completely handed over their will and interests to Morgan, and believe that their blood relatives will not sell out the interests of the other two countries for their own selfish interests.

In fact, the Lord of Avalon did just that: countless negotiations and sticking to their positions made the seal holder admire the seemingly unbreakable alliance friendship of the Three Kings of the Far East.

This is most obvious in the Archon of Macragge: Malcador has tried countless times to divide the Eastern Alliance, which has become a little too big to be broken, and his target has always been Guilliman, because he may be the loosest of the three giants. To be honest, Guilliman has not been unmoved by the conditions offered by Malcador, but his ideas always stay at the first step of reality.

That is the public opinion of Macragge.

It sounds incredible, doesn't it?

But in fact, after four or five generations of interests and mutual cultural output, the people of Macragge and even the entire Ultramar would strongly protest against any move away from the Far East and closer to Terra, and what shocked Malcador the most was that these protests actually made Guilliman hesitate, and then stand with his people from the bottom of his heart.

He actually rewrote his own ideas for the sake of ruling the mortals?

Malcador was shocked.

He somewhat understood why Morgan had always allowed himself to contact Guilliman.

When he thought about how much energy and benefits he had paid to contact the Five Hundred Worlds, so that Morgan could quietly plan for the entire Far East in other fields, Malcador felt that his entire back of the tooth was sore: when he reacted, the Sigillite realized that he had walked to the door of the Emperor's private treasury.

The few guards in charge of guarding didn't even stop him.

Malcador stood there, hesitating for a moment before knocking on the door. He could imagine that there would be new troubles waiting for him inside. Maybe it would be a better choice to turn around and leave now: but what would he face when he returned?

Let him think about it...

Oh, yes: there are still 800,000 volumes of documents that have not been reviewed in his office.

The next armed fleet specially transporting documents for him will arrive in four hours.

"..."

Malcador was silent.

He was silent for so long that the guards next to him began to pay attention to this side quietly.

After a few seconds, a guard who received the order took the initiative to walk to Malcador's side.

"Do you need me to accompany you in, Your Excellency the Master of the Seal?"

"Ah? No."

Malcador shook his head.

"Did he urge you?"

"Not really."

I don't know if it's an illusion: the Master of the Seal saw a trace of...

uh... reluctance on the face of the guard?

"My Lord is calling me to help him destroy a batch of collections that have been left behind."

"Really?"

The Master nodded. He felt that his mentality had finally recovered a little, so he asked casually before pushing open the door.

"What is it? Forbidden books or weapons?"

"..."

The Imperial Guard was silent suspiciously.

"In fact: wigs, high heels and silk stockings."

"..."

"Sir Master."

In Malcador's silence, the Imperial Guard's voice was so sincere.

"What method do you think we need to use to completely destroy them?"

"..."

"Leave them to me."

"I... I have an idea."