My Life as A Death Guard
Chapter 428: Mortarion Decides to Wage a Plague War
"My lord, we are about to enter the Ultramar sector, but my thermal sensors indicate that you are currently in an agitated state."
Jin bent down, the metallic beast lowering itself beside the gaunt old man. The golden ornaments and blackstone decorations on his red robe swayed gently.
Malcador opened the eyes he had kept closed, as if merely dozing.
From beneath his deep eye sockets, Malcador cast an eagle-like glance at Jin.
Jin remained unmoved.
After a long while, Malcador finally let out a deep sigh.
"He… he told me what happened on Cadia in the end."
Jin's indicator lights flickered wildly for a moment before he calmly replied,
"My lord, I do not understand what you mean."
Malcador paused. He felt the slight turbulence of the ship as it traveled and recalled the scene he had just glimpsed through the chaos of the Warp.
Malcador suddenly staggered, gripping his staff tightly to support himself.
"…Perhaps I should treat him a little better."
The old man murmured softly to himself, then chuckled lightly.
"No… perhaps I should push him even harder one last time."
Malcador straightened himself. He could still feel the immense psychic shock that had come from the Emperor when the Astronomican went dark and the impact struck.
He was certain something had attacked the Webway. But now that he had already left the Solar System, Malcador could not determine exactly what it was, nor how badly the Webway had been damaged.
However, judging from the feedback of the Master of Mankind's psychic power… it seemed to be somewhat better than they had originally expected.
Malcador gave a bitter smile. On the Emperor's side, this old bag of bones of his would not be of much use.
The Master of Mankind would handle it. The Custodian and the Imperial Fists were currently on Terra, and under the Emperor's command the Salamanders had also begun returning to reinforce the defense of the Webway beneath the Imperial Palace.
Malcador sighed again.
He truly should not continue hiding away on Terra.
Before this, the Imperial Regent had always concealed himself beneath the Emperor's brilliance.
That had made people forget that Malcador himself was also a brilliant star of humanity.
Malcador sighed once more. His friend Hades had already rushed fearlessly toward his own battlefield.
This old skeleton of his should risk his life once as well.
However… before that, Malcador thought as he looked at the glowing point on the star map—Macragge. Their ship was already very close to it.
The old man frowned—not only because he was troubled by having to explain Hades's situation to the Primarch there, but also because he sensed an unsettling presence within that star system.
…Some kind of entity had locked onto Mortarion.
Malcador hid his now gloomy gaze beneath his hood.
Things might be even more troublesome than he had imagined.
. . .
Mortarion strode down the streets of Macragge, noticing the faintly surging crowds along the roads.
Marius Gage hurried after Mortarion. Even though the Primarch was not running, Gage still had to jog just to keep up with his pace.
"My lord, you are requesting temporary total security authority over Macragge."
"That means temporary supreme authority, including permission to initiate war, full mobilization alerts, regional lockdowns, and the requisition of supplies."
Gage's voice paused. After a moment, he spoke again with a grave tone.
"My lord, under the instructions of Lord Roboute Guilliman, I cannot hand over these authorities to you."
The tall, gaunt, Mortarion cast a casual glance at Gage. In that instant, Gage was certain he felt the presence of killing intent—something that brushed lightly across the back of his neck and sent chills down his spine.
"Kind, responsible little commander of Roboute Guilliman," Mortarion said.
"I will say this only once. I came here to preserve the lives of the majority, and to prevent humanity from falling into the hands of the Warp as much as possible."
"I have no interest in the war glory you speak of, political correctness, human-rights correctness… or any other thing that has absolutely nothing to do with lives and supplies."
Mortarion's hoarse voice was like the scales of a venomous snake scraping across the stone roads of Macragge. The serpent flicked its tongue, winding up Gage's leg and coiling around his throat.
"I have no interest in Macragge." Mortarion said.
"But Macragge cannot fall."
"Now do you understand, commander of Guilliman?"
Gage swallowed. The Primarch was pressuring him, and he knew it.
The First Company captain considered carefully. Like a proper Ultramarine, he weighed the situation. At last he spoke.
"My lord, the Ultramarines will assist the Death Guard in this battle. But you must give us a reasonable explanation, we need to evaluate the risks."
Mortarion let out a mocking snort and was about to sneer—
The Lord of Death suddenly stopped walking.
Gage, who had been chasing after him, stumbled forward a step. He was about to ask what had happened, but saw Mortarion slowly raise his head and look toward the sky.
"…Not just here."
Mortarion extended his hand, gesturing for Gage to give him the command slate he was holding.
Gage handed it over. The Primarch opened the star map and circled a world.
Then Mortarion opened the map of Macragge and skillfully marked several key junctions and streets.
The Lord of Death held the command slate out to his side and released it. The slate slipped from his fingers. Gage hurriedly caught it.
"Four minutes… no, three minutes from now, you will receive news that Iax has fallen."
A hissing sound came from beneath Mortarion's gas mask. Completely ignoring Gage's shock, he continued calmly:
"Station troops at the streets and junctions I marked. Tell the tech-priests to begin inspecting Macragge's circulating water systems immediately. Call out all the Apothecaries."
Gage glanced quickly at the Primarch's markings.
"You mean—a plague?!"
The Lord of Death let out a short laugh.
"If it were only a plague, that would be fortunate." Mortarion said.
"Now implement a full lockdown. If your Macragge citizens still wish to run around outside, the Death Guard would not mind providing some non-lethal gas grenades. Just one will make an entire main road unfit for any carbon-based life to breathe for the next week."
Mortarion raised his head again. Dense clouds were gathering in the sky.
Rain was coming soon.
. . .
Sevin felt terrible.
Even though he had successfully become an immigrant to Macragge, the fear inside his heart had never truly faded.
A vast emptiness was gnawing at him.
He felt uneasy. He felt afraid. The crowded, fast-moving world of Macragge made him uncomfortable, almost unbelievable to him.
It shouldn't be like this.
Sevin thought of his homeworld, Iax—a peaceful agricultural world where nothing ever changed, where the world achieved eternity through the cycles of crops.
Subconsciously, he scratched at the sores on the back of his head. To his touch, they felt like berries about to ripen—heavy with pulp.
The whispers of a god echoed in his ears.
He sat up from his hospital bed and nervously walked toward the hospital stairwell. He was heading to the third basement level.
There, he encountered the remaining six people.
"Relax," Laton muttered.
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