Chapter 1043 Surviving Mortals

The voice disappeared, and many people did not even realize how shocking the information in those words was. But as time passed, the soldiers calmed down and kept chewing, and they began to understand.

Some soldiers looked at the equally shocked and confused political commissar, and asked in an unbelievable tone, "Did you say that the Emperor...he stood up from the throne?"

"I...I think so."

They moved their lips, and they didn't know what to say for a long time. The Emperor was too high and too far for them.

What is the Emperor?

He is the holy statue in the church, towering and majestic, and cannot be desecrated. A holy statue of the Emperor often uses the best materials and talents that the world can provide. At the feet of the holy statue are worshippers and countless incense candles adorned on the white skulls of the saints.

What is the Emperor?

He is a legend, the creator written in countless world books, the only and eternal ruler of the human empire, the true God. He supervises the souls of every mortal with mercy and strictness, examining whether they are qualified to ascend to the golden throne.

Such a being stood up, they could not think of it, nor dared to think of it. Some bold soldiers could only arrange a body much larger than that of a Space Marine for the Emperor, even pulling him to a level higher than that of a Knight Titan. Then put many luxurious jewels on the Emperor, and a halo that could not be looked at directly.

This fantasy appeared once a long time ago. People argued about a person's appearance, saying that he was a man with a big head, a big body, and a strong mind. When they met, they found that this person was not much different from most ordinary people. Throwing him into the crowd was like water into the lake, and it was difficult to pick him out.

There was a sobbing sound not far away. Looking at the sound, it was found that it was the combat sisters who were demoted to medical sisters. They were punished for disobeying the orders of their superiors and rashly attacking. They were supervised by a punishment sister wearing a black leather jacket with spikes.

These temporary medical sisters were covered in blood because of treating the wounded and bestowing mercy on the wounded. They prayed to the Emperor with tears in their eyes.

Some nuns were puzzled by the news, which was understandable. After all, it was hard to believe such a heavyweight news without witnessing it. Some inquisitors even wanted to take their followers to the Cadia Command that sent the message to ask for an explanation to see if it was a trap used by the devil to disrupt the morale of the army.

But no matter what, there were more people celebrating. Soldiers and civilians who survived the Black Legion, Degraded Body, Iron Demon and many other disasters walked out of the heavy production factory one by one, and the mechanical priests who supervised their production also put down their whips and looked up at the sky. Their situation was not much better than that of the soldiers on the front line. In order to ensure that Cadia would not fall into the hands of the enemy, the blood and sweat of the entire planet were squeezed dry.

"Mom, did the Emperor stand up?" A young child asked, pulling the corner of his mother's clothes. His little hands were dark and full of wrinkles and calluses, but he was lucky to have no injuries on his body. Many people fell into the huge mouth of the machine tiredly and were torn into pieces and disappeared.

His mother had dry hair. She took out a piece of dried meat the size of half a little finger from her dirty pocket and stuffed it into the child's mouth. "Yes, child... that's what the trumpet said. The emperor stood up from the throne."

"Then... if he stood up from the throne, who would come to see the golden throne?"

The child's question was difficult to answer. Not to mention his mother, even if those respected figures were put here, they would not know how to answer. His mother frowned and gave her child an answer while resisting the urge to cry.

"The Emperor has risen from the throne, and those loyalists who have returned to the throne should have also stood up. They are standing beside the Emperor, standing on the land of Holy Terra, basking in glory and cheers from the crowd."

"Are my father and brother like this too?"

"Yes, they are."

"Then can I see them in Holy Terra?"

At this point, the mother was already in tears. She squatted down, hugged her child and nodded vigorously, "But Holy Terra is not a place that everyone can go to. You have to become a loyal and brave warrior first."

"I will become that kind of warrior, mother."

Such exchanges and interactions are rare in the increasingly restless crowd. After all, many people died, leaving only sighs and regrets.

We survived such a terrible invasion, what else can we ask for?

In addition to these primarchs and legions, there are also some people whose treatment makes the Emperor distressed. Compared with them, Curze, who hissed and walked away from the light, and Angron, who looked indifferent, both seemed much more lovely and kind.

For example, Mortarion, the Primarch of the Death Guard woke up from his fantasy only after the Emperor looked at him in silence for a long time. He and the Emperor looked at each other, and the longer he looked, the more uneasy he became. Mortarion now really realized that everything that had just happened was real, not a terrible joke played by Tzeentch.

Mortarion could no longer remember what the Emperor said to him, nor could he remember his brother's advice to him. He came to the palace in a daze and left the palace in a daze. Perhaps he was deliberately escaping, or perhaps he was dissatisfied, but in any case he returned to his flagship.

This huge ship, which was originally filled with plague, looked much more normal, with only some rust proving that the ship had been corroded by the power of Nurgle. There was the fragrance of flowers and green grass everywhere. After controlling all the Death Guards brought by Mortarion, Isha transformed the ship and the Death Guards in her own way.

Now that the power of Nurgle has been taken away by Tzeentch, it doesn't take much effort for Isha to turn her life form back to normal.

It wasn't until he sat on the throne that Mortarion felt that his soul had finally returned to his body, and the brain that had not been active for a long time began to think.

He looked at the Death Guards gathered in the bridge and asked, "What happened?"

No one could answer him, so they could only remain silent.

Sitting on the throne, Mortarion covered his face and gradually bent over. Then he said to everyone in a self-destructive way, "The Emperor has resurrected, and he is willing to accept us... Those who are willing to follow the Emperor can leave by themselves... I won't stop you."

After saying this, Mortarion stopped talking. For a long time, no Death Guards moved their feet. Only some guards had the courage to ask Mortarion, "Father, what about you?"

"Me?" Mortarion raised his face, confused.

The Emperor was also willing to accept him and not pursue the things he had done. But Mortarion was unwilling to accept the Emperor, or rather, he was unwilling to accept that he could be whitewashed so easily.