booktalesy Chapter 811 - 811: 810
Chapter 811 - 811: 810
"Is that... positive emotion?"Eden watched the corrosive illusion change. He did not immediately reassert control, instead allowing it to keep developing.
He had already understood the operating rules of corruption. Once corruption began, a living being's thoughts would move forward along the path the evil god wished.
It was autonomous development, not forced distortion.
"My son.
"Your return brings me joy. You have broken free from Chaos's control. Perhaps I can trust you once more."
Within the vision, the Emperor's attitude underwent a new change.
He pulled up the Death Lord, this Primarch son of his own blood, and gently gave him an embrace.
"How could You..."
Mortarion's pupils shook violently. Faced with the Emperor's sudden care, he was completely at a loss.
He had never been treated this way before.
In the past, because of the foul yellow-green poison gas and germs clinging to him, he had no choice but to seal himself completely inside his armor.
Yet even then, some of the smell still seeped out.
Because of that, no one had ever come close to him. People always kept a certain distance when speaking with him.
The Emperor had been the same.
Mortarion had always envied those Primarch brothers who received favor, such as Guilliman, Sanguinius, Magnus, Fulgrim, and the others.
Magnus in particular had once received the Emperor's embrace. So when that man betrayed the Emperor, Mortarion had even felt somewhat indignant deep down.
Mortarion believed that only Primarchs like himself or Lorgar, those who had suffered unfair treatment, had the right to betray the Emperor.
Yet now, he too had received the Emperor's recognition and embrace. It was something he had always longed for.
He was not inferior to any of his Primarch brothers.
"Father."
Mortarion choked up. The words he wanted to say were all lodged in his throat.
He only felt a warm current surging through the cold, bitter heart he had carried for so long.
This Primarch, who had been abandoned in the poisonous fog of Barbarus as a child and subjected to brutal abuse, felt positive emotion for the first time.
Not only that, but his xenos adoptive father Necare also came over and embraced him, expressing his apology to this adopted son.
He allowed Mortarion to do anything he wished, so long as it was not evil.
Clank, clank, clank.
Suddenly, the sound of heavy war boots striking the ground rang out.
Mortarion immediately became alert. He turned toward the direction of the sound and saw several towering figures emerging from the poisonous fog, walking toward them.
In the next moment, Guilliman stepped out of the mist with blade in hand, his face resolute. Immediately afterward, the Khan, Sanguinius, Rogal Dorn, Leman Russ, and the other Primarchs appeared one after another.
They walked straight toward the Death Lord, their pressure bearing down on him.
"You..."
Mortarion's body stiffened when he saw his former Primarch brothers. He was filled with deep shame.
He did not know how to face those he had betrayed. Perhaps they had come to settle accounts with him.
They wanted to execute him, the disgraceful traitor.
But Mortarion chose to accept it.
He watched Guilliman approach with his sword and remained motionless where he stood, making no attempt to resist or flee.
He was willing to accept judgment.
Yet just as Mortarion closed his eyes and waited for judgment to fall, the blade did not descend. Instead, a heavy hand slapped his shoulder.
"My brother. Welcome home!" Guilliman placed a firm hand on Mortarion's shoulder, and a rare smile appeared on his resolute face.
There was no disgust in his eyes, no wariness. Only recognition for a brother, and welcome.
It was as though Mortarion's repentance and return had filled the Lord of Ultramar with relief and pride.
"Well done!"
"You did well!"
"We'll have a proper drink of mjød later!"
The Khan, Sanguinius, and the other Primarchs came over one after another, placing their hands on Mortarion's shoulders and offering encouragement.
Together, they welcomed this Primarch brother home.
The blood, mud, and oil stains on their hands smeared across Mortarion's body, leaving him filthy.
Yet he was happy. This was his Primarch brothers' acceptance, a kind of badge of honor more precious than any trophy.
"Father!" At some point, the Death Guard had also appeared around Mortarion and the other Primarchs.
They felt no pain at all. They applauded and cheered for the Death Lord and his brothers.
Dawn broke.
Warm sunlight pierced through the yellow-green poisonous fog and fell upon Mortarion and the others, bringing warmth with it.
The long-haired marsh hounds circled the crowd, barking and wagging their tails excitedly. Even the vicious dogs had been infected by the atmosphere.
From the distance, the laughter of Barbaran farmers could vaguely be heard from the village.
Everything was harmonious.
This scene constructed a beautiful image of the Emperor and the Primarchs as one united, loving family, standing together against evil.
"Hiss.
"Are we doing a full family-reunion finale now?!"
Eden stared at the corrosive illusion with question marks practically written across his face.
Especially when he saw the Primarchs, along with even more strange and random beings, barge in one after another without the slightest sense of incongruity, then gather for a grand family reunion, he felt his whole mind go numb.
How drunk was Mortarion, exactly, to dare imagine this? The Emperor apologizing, every Primarch brother encouraging him and welcoming him back?
If this plot kept going, would the Imperium have to hold a pan-galactic celebration, with the entire galaxy rejoicing to welcome the great Death Lord home?
Just as Eden thought this, Barbaran farmers and Imperial citizens began pushing carts loaded with wine barrels, bread, roast meat, and other food.
The Death Guard, Ultramarines, and other warriors saluted one after another, then began organizing a celebration ceremony.
"Look, subjects of the Imperium! This is my fourteenth son, Mortarion.
"He once fell into the abyss of Chaos, bound by lies and pain. He once turned his back on the Imperium and the light, yet he never forgot the meaning of sacrifice."
The Emperor even held Mortarion's hand in public and announced the Death Lord's return to the masses.
His voice resounded through the heavens like thunder rolling across the soul.
"Today, he has broken free from the Plague Lord's chains and returned from decay, not because of forgiveness, but because of unyielding will.
"A will that surpassed the corruption of plague and refused to break in despair!"
"In the name of the Emperor, I declare that Mortarion has returned to the ranks of the Imperium. This is the highest judgment, and no doubt shall be permitted!"
Cherubim scattered flower petals. Mortarion stood beside the Emperor with lowered eyes, receiving the cheers and blessings of the crowd.
The entire world was welcoming the Death Lord's return, while one filthy tear slid from his eye and evaporated in the poisonous fog surrounding him.
???
Eden sucked in a cold breath.
Fine. Fine. Fine. The development of this corrosive illusion was becoming more and more abstract. Mortarion really dared to make things up.
Even if Eden had eaten soul-hallucinogenic mushrooms from Commorragh, he would not have been able to create something this absurd.
Eden did not know whether this was the influence of all the cultural works he had seen in his previous life, or the unconscious seepage of the Hope Sun's positive authority.
In any case, the corrosive illusion deep within Mortarion's soul had autonomously given birth to certain beautiful scenes.
After all, this was an illusion in the depths of Mortarion's own soul.
Eden had merely implanted certain tendencies and carried out control and guidance.
Perhaps that was what Mortarion had always longed for deep inside, yet never received: the childhood care and growth experience he had lacked.
Eden had reason to suspect that even when Mortarion had been on the side of Chaos, thoughts like this occasionally arose in his heart.
He shook his head. The man was simply too repressed.
No matter what, this wave had let the Death Lord, that detestable poison-gas canister, have the time of his life, even if it happened inside a corrosive illusion created by the Lord of Hell.
Mortarion's pathetic narrow mind, his jealousy, his fragile heart, had felt warmth and care for the first time.
He felt the beauty of the world, and the hatred, resentment, and grievances in his heart were gradually dispersing.
Eden did not interfere with any of it.
Because the more it developed this way, the greater the chance that the Lord of Hell's corrosion would succeed. The more thoroughly it would suppress the authority of Nurgle's corruption on Mortarion's body.
The corrosive illusion did not end. Instead, it continued developing along the flow of time.
Mortarion returned to the Imperium and fought side by side with the Emperor and the Primarchs. He received the Lord of Hell's blessing and obtained even greater power.
He went to the battlefield and won victory after victory, receiving more favor from the Emperor and the Lord of Hell.
On battlefields against plague beings in particular, he was unstoppable, killing one Plague Greater Daemon after another with overwhelming power.
Mortarion earned the respect of the entire Imperium and became the most beloved and respected Primarch in the Imperium.
He was even regarded as a Primarch with greater prestige than Guilliman or the Lion, the only being who could fight the arch-traitor, the Dark Emperor Horus.
Yet even so, this Death Lord still met his end.
"Oh, he even gave himself a tragic ending. What a thoroughly satisfying dream."
Eden had watched the corrosive illusion from beginning to end and finally finished seeing Mortarion's imagined fate.
He almost wanted to applaud.
At the end of the corrosive illusion, the Death Lord led his army into the Garden of Nurgle, destroyed fortress after fortress, and drew his sword against the Plague Lord, ultimately dying heroically in battle against Him.
When he fell, he still wore a smile on his face, dying exactly where he belonged.
It was practically an Imperium-wide funeral in white, with the Emperor and Primarchs shedding tears.
The Primarchs he had once envied, such as Guilliman and the Khan, were heartbroken and sobbing, regretting their unfair treatment of Mortarion.
The sense of déjà vu in these images was too strong. It was practically a Warhammer tragedy romance, and Eden had no idea how to even evaluate it.
As Mortarion's fate came to a close, the entire corrosive illusion also reached its ending and gradually began to collapse.
But some of the memories and concepts formed within the corrosive illusion would not disappear. Instead, they would be carved deep into Mortarion's soul.
Those things would subtly change his thoughts and ultimately push him to make a new choice.
"Now it depends on what Mortarion chooses..." Eden thought.
His figure slowly vanished along with the collapsing illusion.
The corrosive illusion was never something that had truly happened. It was merely hidden guidance and distortion of thought.
As for whether Mortarion would accept the Lord of Hell's blessing, that still depended on the choice he made in reality.
Every Chaos God could only go this far, then wait and hope that the corrupted Primarch would choose Them.
This was the equivalent of selecting a core employee. Even after selling him the biggest dream possible, it was ultimately still a two-way choice.
Of course, that two-way choice favored the evil gods.
They had already secretly influenced the target's mental inclinations, just as Eden had done now.
...
New Dragonwood.
Chaos current region.
Hiss.
A few filthy tears fell and were evaporated by the burning ground.
"What happened to me? Was I not just fleeing?"
Mortarion slowly opened his eyes and found himself standing frozen in place. Even Silence had fallen to the ground. Deep inside, he felt a warmth and peace he had never known before.
It was as though he had dreamed for a very, very long time, yet also as though only an instant had passed. It felt like a lifetime ago.
In that dream, Mortarion seemed to have experienced many beautiful things. As for what exactly had happened, he could no longer quite remember.
Occasional fragments surfaced, making the Death Lord feel strange, embarrassed, and even deeply ashamed.
When he thought of it, his whole demeanor became furtive. He had no idea why he would have such an impossible-to-describe dream.
Thankfully, it was only a dream. No one knew any of it. Otherwise, it would be an indescribable humiliation.
Suddenly, Mortarion's heart clenched. The burning magma hell around him made him realize that he had already been surrounded by the Lord of Hell.
At some point, a pitch-black, unnatural bloodstone had appeared before him. It was impossible to describe in words.
That strange, hovering thing of Chaos seemed to absorb all light and heat.
"Accept the gift and submit. You will gain freedom!"
The bloodstone continuously radiated that message, while also emitting the pressure of authority.
The instant Mortarion saw the bloodstone, he obtained all the information. That terrifying Lord of Hell had extended an olive branch to him.
He could choose to refuse and destroy the bloodstone. As one who possessed Nurgle's corruption authority, he was fully capable of rejecting any evil god's corruption and recruitment.
They could not violate the will of a favored son of Nurgle.
Yet for some reason, Mortarion hesitated. He stared at the bloodstone before him, feeling an inexplicable familiarity in his heart.
He did not seem to reject this power. A faint yearning stirred inside him, as though this was exactly what he had always wanted.
This was completely different from Mortarion's previous fall.
Back then, Nurgle had imposed cruel torment on him and used the Death Guard to threaten him, forcing him to accept the corrosion of plague authority.
But at this moment, the Lord of Hell gave him the right to choose.
Mortarion wanted to turn and leave, yet he still did not move.
He wanted this power. He wanted to return to humanity's side, especially when fragments from that dream surfaced in his mind.
The Death Lord knew that if he rejected this blessing from the Lord of Hell, his heart would fall back into torment and pain, and he would never again feel the warmth and tranquility from before.
Or he could choose an entirely new path, carrying his sins as he continued to fight for humanity.
Until the end of his life.
And his gene-sons, the Death Guard, could be completely freed from corruption and disease.
In truth, this Primarch from Barbarus had never liked poison gas or rot.
He hated them, yet had no choice but to coexist with them. Now, the chance to escape it all stood before him.
As the bloodstone gradually turned illusory and was about to vanish from midair, Mortarion grew anxious.
"Lord of Hell, I accept Your gift!"
Mortarion lunged forward and wrapped his arms around the bloodstone, hoping to merge it into his soul.
Boom.
In an instant, hellish fel energy erupted violently, carrying Mortarion into the air. The surrounding magma surged like waves, rushing in and covering him.
The phantom of the Lord of Hell also became increasingly solid.
That bloodstone embedded itself into the Death Lord's chest. Fiery veins spread outward, taking root deep within his body and soul, granting him new power.
Hellfire burned away the tumors, pustules, and poisonous fog on Mortarion's body, reducing all plague mutations to ash. In their place, new scaled armor and savage black horns emerged.
The moth wings on his back also became even more vicious, burning with dark red flame like wings of death.
The Death Lord had become the Lord of Hell's chosen champion.
"It worked!"
At the same time, Eden stared at this scene in excitement.
He could feel that Mortarion had offered his soul to the Lord of Hell, allowing Eden to manipulate his fate.
More importantly, Eden could seize a sizable amount of Nurgle's plague authority from him.
"This wave paid back the investment and turned a huge profit!"
Eden took a deep breath and immediately mobilized devouring authority to consume that incomparably precious power of authority.
He could devour and digest this plague authority, then use that power to transform Mortarion.
It was equivalent to looting Grandfather Nurgle's treasury to pay the wages of an employee he had poached from Him.
That was practically digging up the roots of the Garden of Nurgle itself. Double the joy.
More importantly, the Lord of Hell finally had a truly powerful chosen champion, causing His divine might to surge.
Fel faith formed by a Primarch was purer than that of any other living being.
Eden could now compete with the Chaos Gods in the Warp. He no longer had to worry as much as before.
This was a crucial step forward.
(End of Chapter)
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