[Yes, you can tell Konrad Curze. You can look at Sevatar and Shen. People with conscience still exist.]
"Think of your scions, my brother, these scions who fight for you, these scions who suffer just as he does because of the corruption of your homeworld!"
"Slave Masters should be purged, oppressors should be hanged, and the wicked should receive the judgment they deserve."
"Fear is merely a means."
Angron looked at a traitor charging toward him. He had just wanted to unleash his war cry, but after hesitating for countless milliseconds, the serrated blade smashed the guy directly onto the ground. Under the might of the demigod, the ceramite armor on his body instantly twisted and deformed, fusing with his flesh.
"Judgment..."
Konrad closed his eyes. Had he not always been judging these people?
"You must let them see hope, the hope of freedom, rather than fearing when they might die."
Angron thought that when he and the others were heading to Terra, the Butcher's Nails had already prepared countless construction proposals for Nuceria. Angron believed that, at least for a certain period in the future, Nuceria would become better under the construction efforts of Eunomous and others!
But Nostramo... honestly, Angron now felt that this world was truly a little beyond redemption.
"Thank you, Angron. You are the only person who trusts me..."
"My brother, the other brothers also believe in you, but you must know... perhaps you are a bit too neurotic sometimes!"
Angron pointed to his head, which made Konrad Curze silent for a long time.
It seems we are both the same?
"In that case..."
Konrad Curze decided to give the people of this world a chance—a chance to decide whether to destroy the world.
The judgment began!
... "Enemy attack!"
Varys roared. He was by Sevatar's side. Perhaps the Primarch had sensed the bond between him and Sevatar, or perhaps it was something else.
In any case, the friendship between the two who previously had friction was rapidly improving.
After several automated turrets aimed at the people on the platform, they fired only a few shells before falling silent due to unknown reasons. Facing this situation...
Varys ****.
"For Angron!"
He killed the traitors while roaring.
"The automated turrets are still active!"
Sevatar reached out to grab Varys but grasped only air.
"Cover this lunatic!"
Sevatar watched Varys, who was already running rampant among the crowds, grinding his teeth in hatred. War Hounds, a bunch of maniacs!
Sevatar quickly directed the other Iron Warriors to flank them. He followed directly behind Varys.
"Don't tell me this is how you usually fight!"
Sevatar asked disdainfully.
"Mind your own business!"
Varys used psychic power to throw a mortal traitor below the Hive City. He saw several transport ships preparing to take off from the distant tarmac.
"Those mortals want to run away!"
"They! Won't escape!"
Sevatar stared intently at the transport ship that had already taken off.
The next second, intense fire flashed.
"Sevatar, this is Fell Zarost. Mission accomplished."
When the voice of his Legion's chief librarian sounded over the comms, Sevatar snorted coldly.
"We Night Lords have Sorcerers too!"
Sevatar said proudly.
When he turned around, he found that Varys, the so-called chief librarian of the War Hounds, was using his staff to hit the traitors on the head.
Immediately, Sevatar, who had wanted to show off, lowered his face.
"Tsk! Brainless brute!"
Nostramo was just like the Eighth Legion, filled with disorder and chaos, conspiracy and murder. Perhaps only Commorragh could compare to its level of cruelty and bloodshed.
In the underbelly of Nostramo's Hive City Five, the brutal society exploited the zombie-like laborers, and the light that once shone in the eyes of the lower classes had completely dimmed.
Angron walked on the main street. The slaughter in the upper levels had not yet affected the lower levels. The War Hounds and the Night Lords loyal to Konrad Curze were fiercely guarding every passage leading to the lower levels, while the traitors wanted to send their families and the powerful elite out of Nostramo.
Even though they knew this was the endgame.
Angron looked at the mortals who looked like walking corpses. Their eyes were vacant. Even the slaves of Nuceria still held a glimmer of hope in their eyes, but these people, in this sunless underground, had long had their edges smoothed away by the cruel reality.
The mortal heroes who were most passionate about the cause of liberation and wanted to find a way out for Nostramo had long been hanged on some unknown street.
Konrad Curze and Angron were hidden in the darkness, watching the gangs and societies insult, bully, and murder fellow lower-class mortals.
"I have seen your Legion's combat records. My scions have fought alongside yours."
Angron spoke softly at this moment. System AI was continuously transmitting combat data about the Night Lords to him.
"I don't know if I should say these words, my brother."
Angron looked at Konrad Curze squatting on the ground. He was hesitating.
[If you don't help your brother, who do you expect to? The Emperor?]
System AI added fuel to the fire here.
"People can change, my brother. You are a Primarch, and they are your scions. Your actions subtly influence them. Fear and cruelty are means of dealing with enemies, but not a right to unleash your own wickedness. Your Legion possesses a strong desire for punishment, but not for liberating the working masses. Punishment alone cannot create order."
Angron pointed to the gang being ambushed by a child below.
"Most of the Eighth Legion's Terran-born are criminals, I know. Most warriors of the Twelfth Legion are bloodthirsty brutes."
"In your world, they are merely two sides of the same coin."
"In other words... my brother... what I'm about to say might be hurtful."
×-×-×-×-×-×-×-×-×-×-×-×-×-×-×-×-×-×-×
Read Extra Chapter Visit My Patreon
I have only 1 tier
19$ Tier – Access to 40 advance chapters
patreon.com/Lempil
patreon.com/Lempil