Perturabo thought it was a surrender, and he was wrong.

If he listened to Horus, he would have found out the truth, but he wouldn't listen. It is a matter of character, the iron instinctively rejects everything that is harmful to it, it is stubborn, it can only be destroyed by fire or greater violence.

There is no other way, ordinary people cannot twist steel with their hands. Unlike Motarian, he is just as stubborn, but not so stubborn that he doesn't even want to listen.

He listened with hatred, wondering what exactly Horus Lupecar was trying to say, so he found out the truth.

The truth is—

"Typhonse is on his ship." The Lord of Death said with an ugly face. "On the Spirit of Vengeance, I threw him into space, and I could see it clearly. He died, then went into space, only to show up on Horus's ship, and was even able to use his ship to broadcast to declare war on us. ”

"He declared war on you? That's a lot to do. The Iron Lord asked, his tone flat as if nothing had happened. I thought it had already happened. ”

"He declared that he was going to throw me into a cauldron, and he told me to go to the Spirit of Vengeance, or else he would completely destroy my legion." Mortarian said, smiling, his expression hidden behind the respirator.

It was supposed to be a secret, but anyone could hear that icy smile in his voice.

"Crucible."

Vulcan's deep voice rang out from behind the two of them, and the Lord of the Fire Dragon strode in with the head of thunder, his dark face full of anger.

"So, what has become of war?" He asked the other two people present.

"First vines, then crucibles, the combination of the two words reminds me of the evil wizards of the savage world. They would crouch in front of the cauldron to boil herbs that they didn't understand exactly, and then distribute these potentially poisonous concoctions to those willing to give him money in a good year. ”

"Your description is accurate." Perturabo put down the datapad and nodded at him. "But Horus is not a foolish and cruel wizard, he is a hundred times cruel and a thousand times wiser than them."

He raised his hand and tapped the command platform of the Cold Iron a few times, and the scene behind the battleship was projected - at least hundreds of densely packed battleships followed behind them, all the guns had been warmed up, but they did not fire for a long time.

The red or blue light, which represents danger, faintly beats on the hull of the battleship, and it is naturally impossible to show the position of the gun muzzle clearly in the image capture, but it makes this scene have a greater sense of deterrence.

These dense rays of light were like thousands of eyes representing death, staring at them.

"He's threatening." Peturabo said expressionlessly. "Within thirty-two minutes of our rendezvous, the Vengeful Spirit had already sent six broadcast signals. I didn't listen to any of them, but I guess he was trying to get something out of us, and it didn't make sense. ”

"Because he could have taken it himself." Motarian turned his head in disgust. "It only takes a few salvos to slow us down, the Void Shield will be damaged, then the hull parts will be damaged, and if you're unlucky, you'll even get a direct hit to the engine"

Yes, it doesn't make sense at all. The words of the Lord of Death hit the nail on the head - anyone should have at least one reason for doing anything, but what Horus was doing now was illogical and completely inconsistent with his nature.

For a moment, there was suddenly no one to speak, only silence and silence.

In quiet thought, Vulcan's mind began to wander.

It was as if he had returned to one of his favorite stoves, and was wearing the apron of a blacksmith, wielding a forging hammer to strike iron embryos or ores. He simply closed his eyes and let himself really imagine his workshop.

The stove, the piles of firewood, the ores, the leather his skin began to feel comfortable, and it really went back to that comforting heat. But that doesn't mean escape, it's Vulcan's favorite place, but it's not his haven.

This is where he makes his weapons.

Imaginarily, he walked silently to the stove and reached for the hammer. The flames in the furnace immediately rose high, and the bellows began to pull on their own. A rough piece of ore was bent down by Vulcan to pick it up, and he held it with one hand and studied it carefully.

The rough surface still had traces of the hammer of an iron pickaxe, and Vulcan's mind began to diverge, and he began to try to conceive of the person who had discovered the ore and how it had been sent there

His imagination began to grow stronger, and his mind began to relax more and more, and in a trance, a gust of wind hit him from behind.

A voice belonging to Horus Lupecar rang out behind him, accompanied by the sound of the door being slammed.

"It's really hard to find you, brother." Horus threw down his fur cloak and closed the door to the workshop, complaining.

"Do you know how long I've been walking to get here?"

Vulcan put down the ore, took the hammer in his hand, and turned in silence. He looked at the Horus, who opened his hand relaxedly for him to examine, but the words continued.

"You know I'm just your fiction, right?"

"Yes." Vulcan said, his expression was not very sad, but his eyes were very dark. "I understand."

"So I can only know the things that you know." The wolf god smiled slightly. "You and I both know that it doesn't work for that thing. My way of thinking belongs to Horus Lupecar, and I am the original form of the Shadowmoon Wolf, not the monster that is hunting you. ”

"But at least give me some inspiration.?"

"Perhaps." Horus said noncommittally. "I wish I could help you, but your heart is so painful, Vulcan, I can't look past it."

"I'm not in pain."

"I come from your memory, and in a sense, I am a one-sided projection of your psyche. Are you really going to lie to yourself? Horus laughed.

"Admit it, it's nothing. We all know that Father has poured too much humanity into your nature. He wanted you to be a bridge between the original body and the world, you are the kindest of us, and you will even grieve for things we don't care about. ”

Holding the forging hammer, Vulcan sighed: "Don't be sarcastic about me, brother. ”

Horus looked at him and suddenly took a step forward.

The flames in the furnace were immediately extinguished, and the inside of the workshop became extremely cold. The wolf-shepherd's face was gradually obscured by shadows, his eyes turned a pure black, his veins bulged out on the surface of his skin, and his teeth began to fall out, like a dead man who had been decaying for a long time and had been buried deep in the ground.

"It's better for you to stop this kind of moral condemnation and self-punishment of yourself." The wolf god said coldly. "You imagined me at this time, you are only punishing yourself, and my death has nothing to do with you at all."

Vulcan did not speak, but looked at him tiredly, and after a long time he spoke slowly.

"There's so much going on, Horus." So said the blacksmith of the Nocturne. "And I couldn't do anything about it, I could only watch it happen. I feel guilty that Perturabo and Motarion's legions had been battered, but the salamanders remained intact. ”

"If you think so, then you're stupid." Horus frowned. "Will any of them blame you for this?"

"They won't, but I will." Vulcan replied bitterly.

Horus shook his head and actually made a joke: "It seems that kindness is really an unnecessary burden in the world we live in, brother, you are being dragged down by your own character, but fortunately you and me." ”

The wolf wrangler laughed, the flame rekindled, and his former countenance returned—and that concentration that belonged to Horus Lupecal, and he folded his hands and began to think about the part of the struggle that Vulcan had deliberately avoided.

"First of all, he can kill you at any time without having to pay any price." Horus spoke solemnly. But he declared that he didn't want to do it, that he didn't want to kill you, and he didn't want to kill his father. And that's definitely not the reason why he doesn't fire, brother. ”

"I prefer to speculate that his current behavior is a kind of siege, like a siege. He wants you to break down from within. ”

"But we're retreating." Vulcan said. "If we successfully sail to the edge of the Five Hundred Worlds, how will he deal with the self-defense system of the Five Hundred Worlds of Maculag?"

"So he must have some way of keeping you from leaving." Horus said that the fire was reflected in his pupils, and half of his face was illuminated, like an oil painting.

"Remember those huge vines?" He asked. "This kind of thing, I'm afraid, is his dependence, and he has a similar method, or a backhand, to keep you from leaving. Then he will besiege you and deprive you of your ammunition."

Vulcan tightened his hammer again.

"And then." Horus said heavily. "He's going to send out another radio so you can hear it, and it's probably the same rhetoric. Six broadcasts, and you've heard them all, haven't you? He asks you to stay, to meet with him, but, trust me, brother. As long as you go to that ship, there will be no chance of returning. ”

Vulcan tried to reject this statement, but on what basis did he refuse?

"You can't say no." Horus said.

"The part of your nature that you have escaped and your acumen for war is gradually awakening, Vulcan. Your humanity can cover up violence, but violence will eventually manifest itself, just as we are. We are weapons in human skin, carefully numbered blades in our father's hands. ”

"I'm not—"

"—Ferus used to think that you were a god of destruction in battle. You say his assessment is biased, really? Is that really the case? Could it be that Ferus Manus would have deliberately slandered one of his brothers? ”

The wolf god looked at him meaningfully, and Vulcan closed his eyes and sighed deeply.

"Accept it." Horus said. "You've got a solution."

——

Vulcan opened his eyes.

"We rush into subspace." He said suddenly. "It's better to fight to the death than to be besieged and then have to surrender."

"What?" Motarian looked at him in amazement. "What are you talking about, Vulcan?"

"He wants to besiege us." Vulcan said. "Then let's surrender ourselves, and if things get to that point, it doesn't really matter whether we surrender or not. That's why he didn't open fire, to deter, to persecute, to drive away - can't you see? ”

"How is he going to besiege us?" Motarian asked rhetorically. "The destroyer may be able to catch up with us, but it will definitely not stop us. The only way he could stop us was to open fire, but he didn't fire now, so sooner or later we would sail to the edge of the Istvin system. ”

"He has another way." Vulcan looked into the eyes of the Lord of Death and said in a very calm tone. "It's like the vines, Motarian. There must be another way for him to do that. ”

Motarian opened his mouth and fell silent. He looked like he wanted to retort, his brows furrowed as he wanted to say something, but his expression became more and more serious with the silence.

"You're right." After a long thought, Peturabo uttered the words.

"Indeed, this is the most likely explanation, Vulcan. It is impossible for the enemy to pin their hopes of victory on a tactic that can only be used once, like orbital bombardment or swarm charge, which are so useful in war that there is no reason to use them only once."

The Lord of Steel exhaled coldly, plucked a tulip from his armor belt, and placed it in his hand to examine it. The scene was supposed to be funny, his fingers were much bigger than flowers, but the mixed emotions on his face diluted everything.

"But, rushing into subspace?" Motarian couldn't help but ask. "There is no Mandeville point here, the fleet will be thrown in, we will disperse, it will appear anywhere."

"Even throwing me on a planet full of orcs is better than here." Vulcan's pace of speech began to grow faster and faster. "And we don't have a better way."

"Keep sailing, bet he's become an idiot, don't fire, let us go. Or turn the ship around and fight a war that is simply impossible to win? It's the only way possible, even if it's true."

"What?" Motarian asked.

"Even if he actually wants us to rush into subspace, I'm afraid we'll have to." The Lord of the Fire Dragon said resolutely. "He couldn't have imagined our reaction, he had a lot of time to pre-construct tactical models and war situations, this must have been rehearsed in his mind a thousand times, and the rush into subspace was definitely expected by him."

"But he can't control everything, like that place, can he turn subspace into one of his royal courts?"

Vulcan summed it up with these words, and he stared at his brothers, waiting for them to make a decision. For or against, the Lord of the Fire Dragon already has the answer in his heart.

After a few seconds, Motarian let out a long sigh. Perturabo turned around and began issuing orders from his podium.

They will rush into subspace.

There is one more chapter.

By the way, the relationship between the four gods and subspace is actually not the relationship between the owner and the house, they are at most tenants.

(End of chapter)