My Life as A Death Guard
Chapter 427: This Mortarion Is Surprisingly Cautious
"Still no news from the support team?" Mortarion spoke slowly. The Ultramarine standing before him gave an affirmative response.
Mortarion spent a moment considering the possibility that Angron and Guilliman had died aboard the World Eaters warship.
In the end, the Lord of Death concluded that they were neither dead… nor corrupted.
If they had died or fallen, then at the very least—
Mortarion cast a subtle glance at the Ultramarine before him, Gage.
—then at least their sons would have shown some kind of reaction.
"…"
Although there were no World Eaters here, Mortarion believed Angron would not run into too much trouble.
If Angron still lacked the proper understanding and awareness of Chaos… then Hades would have saved him for nothing.
No—that wouldn't be the case. Mortarion was certain that as long as someone spent enough time around Hades, they would inevitably grow wary of Chaos.
Even if they didn't actively seek out trouble with Chaos or the Warp, with Hades around, trouble would come looking for you on its own.
Thinking of something amusing, Mortarion let out a quiet chuckle. He mockingly recalled how terrified he himself had been by those illusions back then.
And the culprit behind it all—Hades.
Even now, the unforgettable illusion from those years ago remained etched deep into Mortarion's soul, along with… a certain word sealed away under layers of mental locks.
Mortarion could no longer remember what that word was. Malcador had forcibly erased it from his memory with psychic power.
This was the one thing Malcador had done that Mortarion did not resent.
No—actually, the second.
Mortarion thought about it. The first was that Malcador was currently on his way to Macragge.
He hoped the Imperial Regent would arrive soon—arrive quickly and make the situation clear to him.
Who was the enemy? Who was the ally? And where exactly were the enemies?
And then he would go and grant the enemy their eternal rest.
Mortarion fell silent. Once again he calculated the fates of Angron and Guilliman. It seemed unlikely they would die anytime soon.
At least, for the present Mortarion, that was a good thing.
Even though a week had already passed.
The Death Guard had already mobilized. Under Mortarion's orders, most of the Death Guard—along with the entirety of the Zero Company—had gone to reinforce the exploded spaceport, while another portion had landed on Macragge.
Because there had been no direct authorization from Roboute Guilliman, the Death Guard had been unable to obtain clearance to participate in the defense of Macragge. Mortarion therefore silently ordered them to station themselves near the palace.
He had a constant feeling that something was about to happen.
But what exactly would it be?
Mortarion pondered.
He thought of Guilliman—this dull fellow who never seemed to understand Mortarion's vigilance.
But Mortarion would prove that he was right.
To Mortarion, the world only ever did two things:
Attack him. Or prepare to attack him.
Mortarion remained silent. He waved a hand to dismiss Gage, then picked up the star chart on the table and began examining it.
Recently, Mortarion had been trying to apply numerology to Warp navigation.
He had grown tired of navigators who were utterly useless—people who constantly clutched their eyes and wailed whenever the Warp stirred.
He was trying to calculate where the original point of reference was.
Now, Mortarion knew the position of Macragge. At the same time, he could observe that across the galaxy there was a massive rift.
But the bad news was that because Mortarion did not know the exact coordinates of the rift—or its three-dimensional angle of inclination—the rift was almost useless for his calculations.
Mortarion needed another star that could provide a point of reference.
Unfortunately, he had yet to encounter one.
Footsteps sounded. Mortarion set down the calculation papers in his hands—Tarasha Euten had arrived, accompanied by her Ultramarine bodyguards.
The mortal lady walked with familiarity into Mortarion's temporary office on Macragge.
She looked exhausted. Mortarion knew what she was worried about—four days earlier, he had already tried to reassure her.
With blunt and simple facts.
Primarchs were not creatures that died easily. Even if thrown into the vacuum of space, they could still leap around just fine—though it might be a bit cold.
But Euten clearly had not come to pour out her worries to Mortarion again. She was a strong woman, and Mortarion admired that.
He had seen far too many people collapse because of the death of loved ones or old comrades—so broken that they could no longer continue fighting.
"Macragge has been rather unstable lately."
"Mm."
Mortarion gave a low response.
A spaceport had exploded over the heads of these pampered Macragge citizens, and now their Primarch's fate was unknown. Mortarion could easily imagine their panic and confusion.
Their lives had been too comfortable.
So comfortable that they feared death.
"I hope to appear publicly and reassure the people soon. I'm planning a visit to the hospitals to comfort the children and the veterans."
Euten said this, and Mortarion looked at her. Fine wrinkles lined her face.
She concealed it well, but Mortarion believed that in a situation like this, the person who most needed comfort was Euten herself.
Yet this strong woman had chosen to step forward, helping Roboute Guilliman govern his empire in his absence.
"…That is your decision, my lady." Mortarion said, spreading his hands slightly. He felt a hint of regret that such an outstanding woman had somehow raised that Primarch.
He stared at Euten.
Mortarion's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Would you mind if I took a look at your position within the Warp?" Mortarion said.
Euten laughed, assuming Mortarion was joking.
But he was not.
Aside from Hades—and himself—Mortarion could vaguely sense the fates of people through numerology.
If the person before him were a psyker, Mortarion could even foresee—or rather, sense—what that psyker was about to do next.
Even hidden psykers could be dragged into the light through his numerological calculations.
Mortarion ignored the slightly relaxed smile that had appeared on Euten's weary face.
He began calculating.
Numbers were crucial.
They were the most essential element of numerology.
A deep hissing sound emerged from Mortarion's rebreather mask.
"Thank you, my lady." He said calmly.
"What is it?"
"No… nothing… it's just that your trip may need to be cancelled." Mortarion replied.
"But I understand your good intentions. I will go in your place to visit those… children and veterans."
Mortarion lifted his gaze.
Garro stepped forward silently.
"Protect this lady, Garro. Go to the Death Guard logistics and requisition several sets of auxiliary army protective suits."
"…And bring Gage here. I require passage rights through the streets of Macragge. This is not a request. It is a notification."
Mortarion rose heavily to his feet.
He picked up the scythe at his side.
"Tell the Ultramarines to seal the city immediately—right now. Civilians are forbidden from leaving their homes. Wartime supply protocols will be enacted."
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