The atmosphere in the open-air camp grew tense. The winds of the Great Forest rustled the leaves incessantly. After Fugan made his proud announcement seeking support, the other Primarchs exchanged glances, falling into an awkward silence.
Fugan frowned slightly, urging the others with his gaze to take a stance.
"Alright! I support you!" The first to speak was Rogal. Clad in a tattered robe, covered in golden scripture, the Primarch of the Word Bearers raised his golden double-headed eagle staff and exclaimed excitedly, "I support you, my brother. Go for it! I'll always be your steadfast ally! Conquer Nottingham, and let Gilliman be damned!"
Of course, Fugan expected Rogal's unconditional support. Smiling, he nodded, knowing that with Rogal on his side, Angron would surely back him too, given their strong friendship forged during the Great Heresy.
And if Angron supports him, Ryan, who is close to Angron, would certainly follow suit!
That's already three votes!
(Meanwhile, Angron, riding a griffon with his nephew young Devonshire in the outskirts of Couronne, sneezed.)
"Is there still anyone who wants to be Regent these days?" Clarkson, the Primarch of the Raven Guard, muttered sarcastically before giving up on continuing. "I think Gilliman is doing just fine. There's no need to replace him. After the Horus Heresy, he led the rebuilding of the Empire, and after Father's return, he was the first to be awakened and appointed as Regent by Father. I think he's the most suitable."
"True, Father did appoint Gilliman as Regent, but he never said he should stay in the role forever," Fugan retorted. "I'm just saying he can serve one term. After his Indomitus Crusade ends, and once my current series of tasks are completed, I could take over for a term. Clarkson, don't be so quick to say Father has already chosen the next Regent. We should follow Terra's basic laws and hold elections to decide, right?"
Fugan was indeed more persuasive. After thinking it over, Clarkson realized Fugan wasn't entirely wrong, but he still shook his head, expressing his firm support for Gilliman. "I still support Gilliman."
Fugan wasn't surprised by Clarkson's stance, knowing that Clarkson and Gilliman were close. He then turned his attention to the scowling Jonson and Vulkan.
"Heh~ I'm not interested in this. Whoever becomes Regent doesn't concern me. I think both you and Gilliman would do fine," Vulkan said with a polite smile, scratching his head as he raised his weapon, the Dawnbringer. "Brother, where's your armor? Let me help you reforge and reinforce it."
"It's in the main tent, just down the path and to the right. There's a Lizardmen forge nearby. Father has already arranged with Lord Kroak that we can use it anytime," Fugan thought to himself that Vulkan was indeed someone who avoided taking sides. He pointed the way, and Vulkan, with a polite smile, quickly excused himself.
Good, one neutral.
"Traitors have no right to speak," Jonson said coldly. "You despicable brother, I'm not interested in discussing this with you."
"A traitor? Yes, I've made many mistakes, and I'm ashamed of them. I'm working hard to atone," Fugan sneered. "I admit my guilt and have repented for it. Don't believe me? Ask Father, just as you sought his forgiveness for certain unspeakable and nonexistent acts after your awakening?"
Jonson's eyes flashed with murderous intent, and he reached for the giant sword on his back.
In a split second, Clarkson intervened. "Jonson! Don't make me remind you again!"
"Who do you support, Jonson?" Fugan asked, unfazed by Jonson's dark expression. "Just tell me. I need an answer."
"I'm not interested in getting involved in your rivalry with Gilliman. Whoever wants to be Regent, let them be. It's none of my business," Jonson replied, releasing his grip on the sword hilt. "If you want to fight for it, go ahead."
Good, another neutral. Fugan was satisfied. He had expected Jonson might side with Gilliman, but his neutrality was another victory for Fugan.
But this victory was anticipated. Fugan had analyzed that Jonson had little interest in the position of Regent. What Jonson truly cared about was the throne, so his neutrality wasn't surprising.
Fugan's bold words had killed the conversation, making it impossible to continue chatting. Vulkan had gone to the forge, Clarkson wandered off to inspect the ruins, Rogal was enthusiastically discussing the Lizardmen's gods and Old Ones with the Skink Priests, and Jonson retreated to a tent to meditate, leaving Fugan alone in the clearing.
Clearly, Rogal, Angron, and Ryan will be my staunch supporters. Given this, Dorn and Magnus are also likely to back me, Fugan thought, since Dorn openly opposes Gilliman's Codex Astartes, and Magnus bears a deep grudge against Russ.
As for Gilliman's firm supporters, they would likely include Clarkson, the Khan, Russ, and potentially Sanguinius. Russ and the Khan would undoubtedly back Gilliman, while Sanguinius had a close relationship with him.
The neutrals would be Jonson, Vulkan, and potentially Perturabo and Mortarion. Mortarion could definitely be won over; all he wanted was a home. So give him one!
Six to four, with three abstentions. This will be my victory! Fugan analyzed the situation and finally smiled.
Just wait, Gilliman. I'll prove that I'm far superior to you!
*Clang!* Near the Lizardmen's Old One forge, a towering, black-skinned figure was using his hammer to help Fugan reforge a new set of armor. The hammer was imbued with fiery power, a deep red inferno that, combined with the forge's multicolored flames, was gradually reshaping Fugan's original purple Phoenix Plate.
Vulkan, standing nearly four meters tall with skin as black as obsidian, made such a commotion that soldiers from the Ashen Legion dared only to watch from a distance, discussing whether Vulkan might be a Kurgan. Some suspected he might be a giant from the Kurgan tribes, mutated by Chaos. Despite rumors that Vulkan was Fugan's blood brother, many refused to believe it until they saw Fugan call him "brother" themselves. Even then, they speculated he must be a half-brother.
Thus, they watched as the black giant worked the forge for two hours.
They were both awed and fearful as they saw Vulkan infuse the armor with molten and fiery energy. The Old One's flames, tamed by Vulkan's hammer, became a flying fire lizard that danced through the air. Yet, despite their pleas and calls for attention, Vulkan remained focused on his work, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. "Move back!"
*Boom!* The Dawnbringer struck, sending flames skyward, startling the onlookers into retreating. They finally gave up watching and left, leaving only a few Skinks to assist with the bellows.
Until a Bretonnian knight slowly approached, unfazed by the heat or Vulkan's potential anger. He spoke with admiration and approval, "Good craftsmanship."
Vulkan remained silent, focusing on Fugan's armor.
"Sir, I'm speaking to you," the knight insisted. He was dressed in a simple outfit made of canvas and linen, with long blonde hair flowing down his back, a two-handed sword gleaming behind him.
Vulkan ignored him, delivering another powerful strike to Fugan's armor, sending a dark red blaze into the sky.
"Vulkan, sir!" the knight called out. "Could you help me reforge a new set of armor and a sword, Vulkan, sir?!"
Ten minutes later.
"Who is this?" Vulkan finally paused, satisfied with his work. He looked at the Bretonnian knight before him.
"I'm Julius-Coumani-Anthony de Winford. Do you remember me? We've met before!" Julius said, raising his head to speak loudly to Vulkan. "At Ryan's wedding, I was Sulia's brother! Remember?"
"Oh! I remember now. You're Ryan's brother-in-law!" Vulkan slapped his head, finally recalling. The black giant broke into a polite smile. "Brother-in-law, how have you been? What can I do for you?"
"I was wondering if you could help me reforge my armor and greatsword?" Julius asked, his tone slightly haughty but very polite. "I see your skills are excellent. Could you help me out? I can provide the materials and pay you for your work!"
"Of course! For Ryan's brother-in-law, the Salamanders are at your service!" Vulkan agreed without hesitation. He signaled the Skinks to rekindle the forge. "Bring the armor and sword, and tell me how you want them reforged."
Julius quickly handed over his two-handed sword and armor, along with plenty of meteorite iron and mithril materials. He explained his requirements, which Vulkan readily agreed to. Finally, Julius asked, "How much do I owe you, Mr. Vulkan?"
"Heh heh, no charge this time. Consider it free service," Vulkan laughed heartily, looking harmless and friendly. "We're all family, after all. Talking about money would hurt our relationship."
But Julius insisted on paying. "No, my lady taught me not to do that. How about I give you a hundred crowns minted by our Ash
en Legion? It's all my savings."
"...Eighteen will do," Vulkan accepted a small bag, counted out eighteen coins, and returned the rest to Julius. He then placed Julius's armor and sword back on the anvil. "Alright, let's get to work."
*Clang!*
A few days later, the Emperor emerged from the Great Pyramid of Itza.
"Fugan!"
"Father?"
"The Sunfire Amulet is within the vortex of the Ship Graveyard. But my power would cause the entire vortex to collapse, making it impossible to retrieve the amulet," the Emperor instructed Fugan. "Therefore, this task falls to you. Have the dwarves build a naval fleet to destroy the undead within the Ship Graveyard and recover the amulet. You know what to do. I've also designed new plans for you and your legion. I brought along thirty additional Primarch gene-seeds this time. Make good use of them and the Old One's incubation pools."
"Yes, Father!"
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Reborn in America's Anti-Terror Unit (Chapter 542)
Solomon in Marvel (Chapter 924)
Becoming the Wealthiest Tycoon on the Planet (Chapter 1284)
Surgical Fruit in the American Comics Universe (Chapter 1289)
American Detective: From TV Rookie to Seasoned Cop (Chapter 1316)
American TV Writer (Chapter 1402)
I Am Hades, The Supreme GOD of the Underworld! (Chapter 570)
Reborn as Humanity's Emperor Across the Multiverse (Chapter 660)
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