Chapter 635: This is the Choice of Numerology

"How..."

Szarekh looked at his arm and the Scepter of Eternal Glory in front of him in disbelief.

A weapon and body cast from living metal—even sixty million years of time would not stain them with a speck of dust, so how could they suddenly rust?

Although the C'tan deceived the Silent King back then, what they played with were actually word games. The eternity they promised Szarekh was indeed realized.

Some C'tan even insisted when they were shattered by Szarekh that what they gave the Necrons was what they promised—eternity.

But now, this eternity itself had developed a problem.

"I once heard you call the False Hua Hua Hua Di Huang 'old salted meat playing with witchcraft'?"

"Then what are you now? A rusty skeleton playing with technology?"

A mocking voice as cold as cumulonimbus clouds rang out beneath the curtain of reality. The sound of elytra vibrating resounded through this barren land, and scales like raindrops were sprinkled down from the Warp.

Rolling poisonous gas turned into a tide sweeping across the land, cold scythes tore through the curtain of reality, hoods fluttered against the cold wind of the reality universe, and the thin, gaunt face hidden beneath the mask loomed.

The fourteenth son of the Hua Hua Hua Di Huang, the Nurgle Daemon Primarch, Lord of the Death Cloud, the Great Sage and Master of Numerology, Mortarion, descended into the physical universe.

Mortarion looked down at the Silent King before him with contempt.

As a traitor Primarch, Mortarion loathed the Master of Mankind, loathed his own gene-father, and loathed the man who styled himself the Hua Hua Hua Di Huang.

He loathed that man, believing that man was nothing more than another great tyrant corrupted by power.

He also believed that although that man styled himself as loving all humanity, he had never loved a specific person, nor had he ever loved a specific group. He tried to domesticate Mortarion, just as Mortarion's adoptive father tried to domesticate Mortarion, just as the Father tried to domesticate Mortarion; he also tried to domesticate the sentient beings on Barbarus, to domesticate Mortarion's pale people, bringing the light of enlightenment of the so-called Human Empire to Barbarus.

Guilliman guarded his Ultramar, Sanguinius guarded his Baal, and Magnus the wizard guarded his Prospero, but Mortarion did not guard his Barbarus.

So Mortarion often expressed contempt for the Hua Hua Hua Di Huang in his words, expressing humiliation for his own father.

But he could humiliate the Hua Hua Hua Di Huang, which did not mean that anyone could humiliate the Hua Hua Hua Di Huang.

The Hua Hua Hua Di Huang was indeed a tyrant, but he was the most powerful and persuasive of all tyrants. All his weaknesses, corruption, and depravity were relative to himself, not relative to other tyrants.

The Hua Hua Hua Di Huang was the tyrant Mortarion resisted, the gene-father of Mortarion. If just anyone dared to humiliate him, how was that different from humiliating Mortarion?

What kind of thing was Szarekh?

Among all the tyrants in the history of the galaxy, he was the most mediocre, stupid, and sinful.

Most of the suffering in the galaxy, even the unlucky things Mortarion and Barbarus suffered, could be traced back to Szarekh.

And this thing deserved to humiliate the Hua Hua Hua Di Huang?

Szarekh sensed the contempt in Mortarion's eyes. He did not hesitate at all, raising the silver-stemmed long spear in his hand toward Mortarion.

The long spear instantly cracked, and the slender crystal pierced into the curtain of reality, instantly stabbing toward the line of text representing Mortarion.

But the moment the long spear stabbed out, Mortarion's figure flashed suddenly, retreating slightly, leaving only a flagpole standing in place.

Hanging on the flagpole was not a fluttering flag, but an Astartes wearing Terminator power armor, bloated, fat, and born with a silver single horn.

Szarekh found in a daze that the target his long spear had stabbed had changed from Mortarion to this Astartes.

This kind of technology, the Silent King had never heard of.

Typhus felt the tearing sensation surging from his body in horror; he still hadn't figured out what had happened.

He had just returned to the Garden of Nurgle a few days ago when he saw a red envelope fall on the ground at a crossroads in the garden. Out of curiosity, he picked it up and found seven rusty Throne coins inside.

Then Mortarion popped out like a ghost and said a series of things.

They were all difficult-to-understand words like "Although I am not willing in my heart, you picked up my life-selling money, and your birth date matches mine, so you should block the disaster for me." "For the Father, for the Legion, for the Garden, the time for you to make a sacrifice has come, Typhus." "This is all the choice of numerology."

Sensing that something was wrong, Typhus asked the Father for help, but the Father just shook His head gently, refusing to fish Typhus out of Mortarion's hands.

What Typhus didn't know was that the fact that he had secretly sent the Old One artifact, the Plague Heart, to Lorgar and Erebus had not escaped the Father's sight.

Although Typhus thought he had used some means to hide it from the Father, the current Father had become increasingly profound in the way of numerology, calculating Typhus's near-betrayal behavior through the changes in numbers.

It was just out of pity and compassion that He could not bring Himself to punish Typhus, who had worked hard for Him and the Garden.

But when the Garden needed him to sacrifice, and Mortarion wanted to use him to block the disaster, the Father would no longer stop it.

Typhus's body was instantly divided and disintegrated under the power of the long spear, his existence was cut into fragments, and the whole person turned into dust and scattered in the rolling poisonous gas.

Mortarion watched this scene silently, watching Typhus die before his eyes just like that.

The first thing that surged in him was the pleasure of revenge. This pleasure surged from his rotting organs, rushing all the way to his throat, but before it reached his brain, it turned into indescribable bitterness.

Barbarus shrouded in poisonous gas flashed through Mortarion's mind. He saw himself standing among the pale mountains, saw the human running toward him—that was the first human he had ever seen.

Typhus... friend, brother, son, traitor.

Perhaps as Jaghatai Khan said, I am not tough enough... This thought flashed through Mortarion's mind, and then it was suppressed by his cold will.

The Silent King retreated violently, but the Scepter of Eternal Glory in his hand pointed at Mortarion in the dark clouds, and dazzling neutron torrents flickered on the Scepter of Eternal Glory.

But Mortarion's expression did not change.

"Seven pulls of the intestines, both caring for the rotting dynasty and the plague country; when others have trouble, you rust, and still act against the Lord of Shadows?"

"Seven withered flowers worn upon the head, seven days and seven nights they will not bloom; with one heart desiring the moment the flowers open, yet unaware the time of their decay has arrived."

"Iron fears rust, land fears barrenness; stiffness fears rot, people fear injury; the path of numerology is correct, the Father's mercy fears the son's unfilial piety."

"A round moon of Luna, round and missing; several Primarchs surround the remnant Hua Hua Hua Di Huang; Dorn shovels sauce, sauce cannot rise; rubber clothes tears flow before the jacket."

"Three, six, seven, eight, nine, thirteen; three rings meeting seven is stagnant rot; in the middle of the ten days, the numerology is occupied; even if lucky, one must know it will rot in the end."

"The Father moves to overcome the descendants; the Webway has no path, the Lord is dim; numerology is hard to obtain; witchcraft and superstition, benevolence does not exist." ===== CHAPTER 636 =====