That day, Valdor returned to work after completing his mission as usual.
Just as he walked into the palace, he saw Malcador standing silently outside the door of the administrative hall.
“What’s the meaning of this?
These days, even you, the Chancellor of the Empire, are stealing my job as a sentry?”
“Custodian, is the Emperor not inside?
Why are you standing here?”
Valdor walked over to ask Malcador, but Malcador only sighed.
“Sigh…
inside…
I suggest you don’t go in.”
“Oh?
What’s wrong?
Is there something you, the Custodian, are afraid of?”
Valdor pushed the door ajar and peeked inside, only to see Lady Astartes standing below, pointing at the Emperor in front and berating him loudly.
“You are truly a cold-blooded and indifferent thing.
What is your heart made of?
Stone?” She was berating him loudly below, while the Emperor sat in front with his head lowered, saying nothing.
Valdor quietly closed the door again.
“Haha, well, I suddenly remembered I have some finishing work to do.
I’m going to head off now.”
Malcador watched helplessly as Valdor slipped away.
Today, just as he was about to enter to handle administrative affairs, he saw Lady Astartes push the door open and storm in furiously.
Malcador had snuck a peek and was nearly stunned silly; in this day and age, there was actually someone who dared to point at the Emperor’s nose and scold him?
Too fierce.
According to his duties, he should have gone in to try and mediate, but didn’t he see that the Emperor hadn’t said a word and was just keeping his head down, enduring the scolding?
Forget it, he would just treat it as giving his old bones a half-day off.
Malcador also leaned on his staff and walked away.
“What a disaster…”
Lady Astartes was about to go crazy with anger.
Originally, she hadn’t said anything about taking in the injured Morningstar; she knew the duties of a Primarch and knew that such things were absolutely unavoidable in the future.
But when she heard that Morningstar had fought for eleven hours with only five hundred men against three hundred thousand Men of Iron, and the Emperor had acted as if he hadn’t seen it, not even willing to send a single Custodian, she truly couldn’t bear it anymore.
“Do you think she is like you?
Do you know that even if she is strong, she can still die?
You can flip the entire Terra upside down by yourself, yet you keep these Custodians surrounding you every day, while you ignore your daughter.
You are truly cold-hearted…”
Lady Astartes no longer cared about rank or status; she just wanted to give this cold-hearted father a good scolding.
The Emperor said nothing.
Even the Emperor felt admiration for the other party’s genetic technology; she was an irreplaceable talent under his command.
If it were anyone else, he would have already slapped them away with a psychic backhand.
Moreover, it wasn’t that he didn’t care; he had been keeping an eye on Morningstar all along.
As soon as Morningstar showed signs of being unable to hold on, he would immediately step in to salvage the situation.
In the Emperor’s vision, the Custodians would not participate in the affairs of the Great Crusade and would only serve as his envoys and guards, so he needed to minimize the number of times the Custodians appeared now as much as possible.
But the Emperor didn’t say these things.
He didn’t tell the person currently scolding him that he was also very concerned about Morningstar, nor did he share his vision for the future.
This wasn’t because the Emperor was mute or autistic or anything, but because the Emperor believed that saying these things was useless and would only easily cause other troubles.
It was better not to say anything and just let the other party vent their anger.
Lady Astartes was tired, tired of scolding.
Looking at the impervious Emperor before her, she finally said one last sentence and turned to leave.
“You are not a good father, and you are even less of a good monarch.”
“…” The Emperor was silent.
He stood up and quietly left.
Morningstar lay on the hospital bed inside the palace, her back against the wall, still reading.
The injuries, large and small, on her body had almost healed.
As expected of a Primarch’s physical constitution; if it were anyone else, they would have been bedridden long ago.
“Eh?
Old Dad.”
The Emperor pushed the door open and walked in, conjuring a chair with a wave of his hand and sitting down by Morningstar’s bed.
“My daughter, you did very well.
Last time, I remade a set of Power Armor and two swords for you, but I never had the chance to give them to you.
After you recover, I will hand them to you personally.”
“Father, how much did we lose?” Morningstar looked straight into the Emperor’s eyes.
“…Do not concern yourself with that, Morningstar.
We won this victory, and that is enough.”
“No, Father, this was nothing but luck.”
Morningstar was dejected.
“The fact that we won was entirely built upon Nathanduum’s underestimation and arrogance.”
That’s right, Nathanduum had underestimated the enemy.
He didn’t believe that Morningstar would use herself as bait to attract his main force; he didn’t believe that his impregnable city could be breached by the Empire.
He was also too arrogant; he didn’t trust anyone but himself.
If there had been someone he trusted who could have commanded the Men of Iron to retreat directly without engaging with Morningstar after Nathanduum lost consciousness, Morningstar would have lost.
All of Morningstar’s victories were built upon the opponent’s mistakes, and Morningstar had always believed that any victory built upon an enemy’s mistakes was nothing but luck.
And if Morningstar’s luck hadn’t been so good, the consequence wouldn’t just be her own failure, but would also implicate the entire Empire.
Looking at the dejected Morningstar before him, the Emperor felt a moment of trance.
Morningstar had never displayed such emotions before.
Even on the day she first arrived in this world, she had merely been like a newborn fawn, full of curiosity and fear of the brand-new world.
Most of the time, she seemed to be forever mischievous and full of energy, even if she sometimes made the Emperor half-dead with anger.
The next moment, the Emperor made an unexpected move.
Morningstar looked in astonishment as the Emperor reached out and gently stroked her head.
When the Emperor did so, even he himself felt surprised.
But he still spoke as if nothing were the matter: “No, my Child, you do not need to doubt your own excellence.
You have done your best in your duties; your wisdom and courage deserve this victory.
Now, you only need to accept it with peace of mind and be proud of it.”
Morningstar stared blankly at the Emperor, and then she smiled.
It was truly strange; even though Morningstar didn’t have the psychic filter ability that the Emperor had, the Emperor still felt that the smile was a bit dazzling.
Morningstar raised her hands above her head and grasped the wrist of the hand the Emperor was using to stroke her head.
“Thank you, Old Dad.
It’s so good to have you.”
The Emperor was silent; he just watched her.
“Oh, right, Old Dad, can you hand Nathanduum over to me?”
“What do you want to do?”
“I just have some experiments that might require his assistance.”
…
In the prison beneath the palace, Nathanduum was held captive with his hands and feet bound.
“Ah, this is our first meeting, isn’t it?
You…
are very bright.”
Nathanduum chuckled and looked up at the Emperor.
“She seems to revere you very much.
I imagine you must have presented yourself before her as someone with the world at heart?”
Nathanduum laughed loudly.
“The ambition to rule the world is often disguised as the grand ambition to save the world.
Your Majesty, which one are you?”
The Emperor spoke, his voice like the tolling of a bell from a vast cathedral: “It does not matter.
You have plenty of time; you may observe carefully to see which one I am.”