Chapter 697: Diplomacy and Farce

Chapter 697: Diplomacy and Farce

Terra, the Eternal City slums.

Many people gathered at the top of the buildings in the hive city. The spires, roof ridges, protruding balconies, tall signal towers, and any place where they could stay were full of people. They hugged everything around them that they could cling to. Lifting his chin, he looked up at the "moon" hanging high in the night sky.

No screaming, no crying, just silence.

People's eyes have been fixed on the Battle Moon. The most religious people of the Emperor have boarded the merchant fleet to the Battle Moon, but no one could have predicted this expedition.

as well as……

Everyone watching saw the end of the expedition. The movement of the mountains on the moon's surface can be seen from Terra. It looks like it closed its eyes once and blinked, seemingly with a ruthless mockery of its prey.

Gone, the Holy War Expeditionary Force is just gone.

Fu Qinghai didn't look at this scene. Even if he wasn't a prophet, he knew what was going to happen in the sky. When the moving mountains of the battle moon swallowed up the peasant crusaders, he had already led his men back to the battleship Suzheng.

…

Terra, the palace, the brain ventricles.

Wangorich stood alone in this small room and saw this situation through the window pane. The other High Lords were still in session, and had remained in the council chambers during the Holy War, eagerly awaiting any good news.

However, the expeditionary force was not as heroic as they expected, and the war lasted less than a day.

Wangorich kept telling himself that he had done nothing to help Tull in his folly. But he was wrong. He felt a sense of guilt mercilessly squeezing his heart. He fell into deep thought. He imagined himself standing on the surface of the battle moon, being crushed by the collision of mountains.

"How could they be so...so..."

The Grand Master of the Assassin's Court clenched his hands tightly.

Finally, he sighed and silently left the brain room.

When Wangorich walked into the parliament hall, there was silence. The parliament hall was as full as at the beginning of the holy war, and the assembly members sat in despair. More than 100,000 imperial servants are here, but it seems empty.

Some small sobs sounded, but the cries were scattered and weak, which made the silence even worse.

The silence spread all the way to the podium. During the entire expedition, Yuskina Tull had been standing on the podium. When the news came that the Crusaders successfully landed on the Battle Moon, her figure became more and more upright, and the leader of the merchant fleet was in high spirits with his movements. And now she shrank, her colorless face seemed to disappear beneath her collar.

Wangorich thought about that moment.

When the leader of the merchant ship and the pope of the state religion gave a speech outside the palace, he once considered assassinating these two people, as well as the high lords who chose to support their proposals, but after careful consideration, he finally did not take such a murderous shot. .

Now he suddenly felt some regret.

Wangorich glanced at all the supreme lords one by one, and Tur and her allies were silent. Foundry Commander Kubik looked at the screen calmly, making a binary whisper from time to time, as if he was calculating something.

Yes, the Forgemaster is here.

At this critical moment, the Lord of Mars put aside his busy research and came to the Terra Palace in person. What is slightly surprising is that there is no expression of fear or surprise on the face of the Foundry Commander, and his expression is indifferent, as if he came to Terra just to observe the Battle Moon up close.

Wangorich narrowed his eyes slightly.

Not long ago, he placed a team of assassins in Mars, a special team composed of one Vindicare assassin, two Callidus assassins and three Venus assassins, called the "Red Sanctuary". Such a luxurious combination can assassinate most targets in this galaxy. However, such a team lost contact on Mars some time ago.

Wangorich was convinced that they must have investigated something before they were hunted down by the Mechanicus and lost contact. The Foundry Commander must be hiding some ulterior secrets. Mars and Terra may not have the same heart.

Wangorich even knew that the Inquisition was also secretly investigating Mars, but the Inquisitors under Venand were too low-level and were killed by Sikarian Rust Trackers and Sikarian Blade Infiltrators before they even started investigating. Found and killed them all.

To be suspected by both the Tribunal and the Assassin's Tribunal at the same time, the Foundry Commander's suspicion is no longer as high as that of others.

The display next to Empire Commander Udo lit up.

"Admiral Lanson, my lord."

An attendant revealed the identity of the person.

"Connected."

Udo said, sitting in the middle of the seat.

Lan Song's holographic projection stabilized.

"We received a signal that a ship has left the Ork Battle Moon and is in orbit around Terra."

Lan Song looked at the crowd and said.

"Has the attack finally begun?"

Williot, Commander-in-Chief of the Imperial Guard asked.

"No, it's a separate ship, it's a ship from Terra, we can identify its keel number code, it's a small merchant ship named 'Warlike Fire'."

Lan Song said.

"And what is your advice, High Lord Admiral?"

Wangorich interjected and asked.

"Get it down, this can't be an invasion."

Lan Song expressed his opinion.

"Then what is it?"

Interior Minister Ekas asked. There was a hint of crying in his voice, and it was obvious that some of the quiet sobbing that Wangorich heard just now came from him.

What is that?

No one could answer his question. All the members in the parliament hall had this question in their minds. News of an approaching merchant ship came from the hall and was quickly spreading throughout the capital. Not just the palace, but all sensor arrays on the surface can see the ship and track its path.

Ekas's question awakened Meslin, and inspiration seemed to flash across the face of the Holy Father. He suddenly stood up, turned to face all the MPs in the hall, and began to speak:

"What is that? What is that? What is that?"

Meslin first asked the question, but he did not give an answer. The Orks never attacked, and the merchant ship couldn't have been some kind of extermination weapon because it was so small. So what is the significance of its arrival?

"Perhaps, we are witnessing a miracle. Perhaps, by the grace of the Lord of Mankind, this sacred ship has been saved from our enemies."

The pope of the state religion opened his arms and spoke softly:

"What is this? This is a revelation!"

Some people were doubtful, and some suddenly realized it. However, as the Pope continued to preach, people's sad sobs and panicked discussions gradually turned into neat prayers. As if receiving some kind of call, the crowd left their seats and rushed forward, surrounding the Pope. Faith is the last refuge. People do not really regard this merchant ship as hope. Instead, they regard the merchant ship as some kind of revelation and pray that the emperor can bring hope.

Inside the entire parliament hall.

Meslin led the lawmakers in chanting.

Wangorich just looked at them coldly.

His eyes were unconcealed, like he was looking at a bunch of idiots.

Yuskina's highlight moment has passed. With the defeat of the Holy War, the power map of the high lords has changed again, and Meslin quickly took over the baton. The tactics are impressive, but useless - how long does the Ecclesiarch think the Greenskin will let him enjoy his current status?

Meslin's sermon was over.

People regained their composure.

He sat down slowly, lowered his head and said nothing.

Wangoric stood up and walked towards the Pope, stood in front of him, put his hands on the table and asked in a low voice:

"What would you do if there were no miracles on that ship?"

Meslin raised his head, the expression on his face was very calm, with a contradictory feeling of piety and cunning:

"Then we need our mental strength even more."

Wangorich looked up at the sky speechlessly.

Then he turned to look at Williot:

"So the Imperial Guard also gave their hope to God? Pinning all their hopes on a so-called 'miracle'?"

"The Black Watch of Lucifer will greet the ship."

The Commander-in-Chief of the Imperial Guard replied.

"But you're not going?"

"My place is here."

Williot didn't move at all in his seat.

Haha, do you think that the orcs will stuff a big bomb into that merchant ship and blow you to pieces when you are greeted? Wangorich thought sarcastically in his heart.

What does it mean to an orc to blow you up? Who do you think you are? What do you think you are of use to? Blowing up everyone here will not change the outcome of this war.

Wangerich turned and left the council chamber.

This synagogue served as the headquarters and headquarters of the War Council during the Great Crusade, when Horus was still called Warmaster. However, he saw nothing positive here, only a house that was about to be destroyed by fire, and the decaying furniture in the house waiting to be replaced.

…

Terra, Lions Gate Airport.

When Wangorich came to the airport, the small merchant ship was already parked on the berth, and many Lucifer Black Guards wearing black carapace surrounded the berth. The spacecraft was quiet for a few minutes. The port hatch slowly rose, the gangway was lowered from above, and the Lucifer Black Guard's gun was pointed at the dark hatch.

The figure that appeared first looked like a human being, gorgeously dressed, but broken. His face was gray with exhaustion and fear, and he raised his arms above his head:

"My name is Leander Narkissos, sir, please do not give the order to shoot, no one on board is armed."

Wangorich stood next to the commander of Lucifer's Black Guard.

"May I have your name?"

"Mercado, Grand Master."

"I know the situation is tense right now, and so is your army. But at this juncture, opening fire without hesitation is the last resort we have at our wits' end. Do you agree with this?"

His voice was calm and his tone was gentle.

Mercado nodded.

"Put away your weapons."

The commander of Lucifer's Black Guard shouted:

"But always be vigilant."

"You can come down now."

Wangorich said to Narkissos.

Narkissos lowered his arms and slowly walked down the gangway.

Wangoric stepped forward and steadied him.

"You escaped from the Battle Moon?"

The Grand Master of the Assassin Court asked the most concerning question.

"No."

Narkissos turned to look back at the hatch:

"They wish to be escorted to the High Lords' Council."

Wangorich followed his gaze and looked up. He almost asked who "they" were, but he already knew the answer - three Orks appeared, they walked down the steps, and then stood on the spaceship The landing platform in front of the berth.

The Grand Master of the Assassin Court almost pulled out his gun.

But he suppressed his instinctive reaction.

At the same time, don’t forget to remind the Black Guard soldiers:

"Put away your firepower!"

Wangorich looked at the orcs in front of him. The three orcs were all very tall. The first two were a head taller than him, and the third one was a whole circle bigger than the first two. They should be subordinates. The thick leather was emblazoned with the barbaric symbols of the orc clan. That alone is surprising—the clothes seem more like robes than armor.

However, what shocked Wangorich the most was not the clothes they wore, but what the orcs didn't have.

They had no weapons in their hands.

The leading greenskin held an iron staff in his hand, more than two meters long. The waist of the iron staff was surrounded by clusters of skulls, some of which belonged to humans, some to Eldar, and many species that Wangorich did not recognize at all. The skulls were covered in steel, with closed jaws and teeth from different species strung on a coil of wire. At the top of the iron staff is an orc's face, surrounded by skulls of different species, with its mouth open and roaring wildly.

However, this horrifying iron staff is not a weapon, but seems to be... a work of art?

Orcs? Art?

How are these two things connected?

The orcs stared steadfastly at Vangorich.

All Wangoric had to do was turn his head and nod to Lucifer's Black Guard Commander, and the three orcs would be shot dead.

But he knew what this choice would bring.

"Come with me."

Finally he said to Narcissus.

The Grand Master of the Assassin's Court led the three orcs to the Imperial Council Hall, escorted all the way by Black Guard soldiers. Wangorich heard the footsteps of the orcs behind him, and on the marble of Terra, the alien boots beat the humiliating beat of the Imperium of Man.

"Tell me what they are."

Wangorich asked Narkissos.

The businessman whispered something terrible:

"They are diplomats."

"This is impossible!"

"I also know this is impossible."

So is this true?

Wangorich felt his heart growing colder.

When they arrived at the council chamber, there was a gasp, followed by angry whispers. Udo stood up from his seat and pointed at Narcissus:

"What have you brought to this sacred place?"

His roar was like thunder.

However, his roaring and roaring could not make people feel any threat. He was like a hollow shell.

Narkissos did not flinch. The businessman did not even look at the Imperial Commander-in-Chief. His eyes were blank. He was staring at something more terrifying than nobles or orcs, perhaps a recent experience, or a vision of the near future.

"They are diplomats, envoys."

Wangoric said, taking the podium.

The three orcs remained in place, staring at the nobles with their sunken yellow bean-like eyes.

"Are you their translator?"

Wangorich turned to ask Narkissos. He didn't know how this man learned the language of the aliens.

Narcissus looked up.

He shook his head painfully.

"No need for translation."

The leading orc suddenly spoke:

"I asked you to surrender, you surrender, it's that simple."

Speaks extremely fluent Gothic.

No accent or grammatical errors.

…

Silence, silence descended on the parliament hall.

To the orc's few simple words, the only response the council hall could give was silence. The earth does not tremble and the walls do not collapse. But in Wangorich's view, both of these are not as good as the few words spoken by the orcs. The empire's inherent understanding of the orcs is wrong. We may have never understood this race. These green-skinned diplomats The blow was no less devastating than the tragic ending of the Peasants’ Crusade.

"The beast has captured your heart."

The orc ambassador stretched out his fingers to make a grasping gesture:

"Strive and it will tear you apart. Surrender and you will live."

The silence continued.

"so?"

The orc ambassador glanced around the hall:

"Surrender or die, your choice."

A stone stirred up thousands of waves, and the silence was completely drowned by the sound waves that followed. Screams, curses, and loud wails were mixed with desperate prayers to the God Emperor. Wangorich even heard what seemed to be begging for forgiveness from the orcs. Profanity.

The high lords also began to fight among themselves.

Meslin pointed the finger at Yuskina:

"Look what you have done! You have brought desecration to this sacred place! Holy Terra has been defiled!"

screamed the ecclesiastical pontiff.

"I've never heard you question me before."

Yuskina immediately retorted.

Ekas, Gibran, Sark, and Anwaze surrounded Williot, the commander-in-chief of the Imperial Guard.

"Why are you still silent?"

Gibran's voice had a hysterical hoarseness:

"Quickly give the order! Kill those abominations!"

"Your soldiers far outnumber those damn aliens!"

Sack's voice isn't much better:

"They're not even armed!"

"But what does this mean?"

Williot asked, spreading his hands.

If the empire's behavior is so barbaric that even those orcs pale in comparison, then the moral consequences of this self-inflicted evil will be a shame that the empire cannot wash away - the orcs are a civilized society, but the empire belongs to the barbaric tribe, just like the deep-rooted evil within the empire. The glory of mankind is eroded like a rotten boil.

Wangorich thought silently in his heart.

But Sark obviously didn't care about this.

"Kill them!"

The abbot of Xingjuting screamed:

"Kill them quickly!"

The orc ambassador grinned at him.

The contempt is palpable:

"Bad plan, bug."

Sack was so frightened that he returned to his seat, trembling all over. The dark muzzles of Lucifer's black guards were always aimed at the orcs. Every soldier's expression was filled with tension and fear, but they did not fire. Williot raised a hand to make sure nothing like this happened.

Udo roared to hide his inner cowardice.

"We will never surrender!"

He shouted to the orc ambassador:

"We want to eliminate this dirty race of yours. Your fate has been sealed by coming here. You have already..."

Udo said, trying to change to a more severe curse.

"You will regret it..."

he continued, but stopped short when he found himself being stared at closely by the orc ambassador.

"I won't! We won't! You never can!"

His curses grew increasingly incoherent.

How pitiful he is... thought Wangorich.

Kubik had reached the edge of the podium at some point. He paced back and forth in front of the orcs, while leaning forward and extending his visual sensor lens to the three aliens. Gothic was mixed in the binary, and he was speaking quickly. Soliloquy:

"It's not a specific clan. Targeted evolution is indeed a key trait of the Orcs. Diplomatic type? Diplomatic type? This classification may be closer, and it is not a learned behavior. Is the diplomatic style a genetic trait? As mentioned before Not seen yet, we need to collect specimens. This direction has great potential. If the orcs can develop in this way and evolve specifically according to their needs, then eventually they..."

The excitement of casting the leader is beyond words.

The entire parliament hall was still in chaos.

The two smaller greenskins were amused. They grinned widely. The orc ambassador stood beside him and did not smile. However, Wangorich would rather it laugh, because the Grand Master of the Assassin Court did not want to believe that he had learned from the orcs. The contempt on the ambassador's face...

Even, it seems, seeing a hint of mercy?

"Dong dong."

The orc struck the floor with his iron staff.

All the councilors and high lords fell silent.

"It's no use."

The orc ambassador said:

"Worse than snoring."

It looked at its companions:

"Don't reason with humans. Destroy them, kill them, eat them... whatever it takes. In short, don't try to make humans think. You can't do it."

The orc ambassador shrugged.

Turning around to face the high lords:

"Last chance."

The twelve highest people were speechless.

The orc ambassador gave them a deep look.

Then he nodded and said calmly:

"So, die."

It slammed the iron rod to the ground:

"That's it."

The three orcs turned and left the council chamber.

And behind them, silence fell again.

It was a deep and painful wound, but it did not sting the Imperium of Man. After a moment of silence, the high lords began to attack each other again. Wangorich couldn't remember how many times this was. The words of mutual accusations and curses poured out from the wounds like blood.

We deserve it, Wangorich thought.

The vast, fatal, almost infinite stupidity of mankind filled the halls of the Council and shook it, crushing his soul with the weight of a collapsing civilization.

We deserve it, he repeated to himself.

He didn't know how long he stood there, his eyes empty and his ears drowned by the sound of despair.

When he looked up, the orc was gone.

There is nothing he can do here.

There is nothing anyone can do here.

…………