Chapter 1171, Farewell, Handprinter

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"Before that, I have to give you a compliment, Ryan, my child." Malcador's old face was still full of sarcasm and sneer, as if everything in the world is a fool, only he is smart: "I will contradict you, Will question, rebel, this is a qualified child, if you are really like Ruth, drooling and telling me, you are happy to be a tool, you are happy to be his lackey, then there is no need for me to show up, no need I have taught you, or you are the stinky stone in that latrine in Dawn, and if you haven’t learned to respect the elders, I won’t teach you either.”

Ryan: "..."

The Primarch thought to himself that his father really likes to be sarcastic.

Ryan vaguely remembered that Donne, who was the Primarch of the Fist of the Empire, had a good relationship with Malcador at one time, and was a good partner in internal affairs and military affairs, but the latter two gradually cracked - Donne still emphasized honor and persistence, courage and belief, but Malcador thinks these are not worth mentioning. The countless victories, illustrious military exploits and great glory of the Great Crusade sneered.

In Malcador's eyes, Dorn is a fool, and most of the Primarchs are fools. Except for Russ, only a few people such as Khan and Guilliman can be recognized by Malcador to a certain extent. For the most moderate existence like Liman, there is also a huge irreconcilable gap between the political views of the two parties.

He knows better than anyone that a god (or Primarch) gains power first, and then learns to control it. It is obvious that mortals cannot match gods, but mortals know how to use the greatest restraint to control every ounce of power they have grown .

It is also because of this that Malcador can bear the resentment of almost the entire universe, bear the misunderstanding of anyone, bear the sins and disasters brought about by the execution of the entire imperial bureaucracy, and even the accusations of the Emperor himself. Malcador is not a god. , but his self-discipline, self-knowledge, self-examination, and self-confidence are the keys to resisting chaos and corruption. Half of the Primarchs can lose one, two, or even half of the legions, but the empire cannot leave Malcador even for a single day. Countless appointment and dismissal documents are waiting for him to sign, countless personnel deployments are waiting for his nod, and countless worlds are waiting for the future. He led a bureaucratic team to manage, and countless secret agreements and agreements were waiting for him to review.

This is Malcador, the existence that even the emperor would call "my best friend" and "my confidant".

"My child, my daughter-in-law, you all know it in your heart." Malcador gently tapped the ground of platform nine and three-quarters with the golden double-headed eagle scepter, and he said with a smile: "What Tzeentch said It’s not a lie, the Lord of Change doesn’t need to lie, what he said is true, many times, you really lack freedom, we must first admit this, am I right?”

"...As you said, father." Ryan lowered his head.

"Your responsibilities are too heavy. You knew this from the very beginning." Malcador laughed mockingly, and the handprinter cast his gaze into the distance: "I have been secretly observing the outside world through you for these years. It can be said that , from the first time you entered the battlefield, you have both a sense of urgency and a sense of mission. In your teens and twenties, you should be a Primarch swaying yourself, young and vigorous, fresh clothes and angry horses, When you live happily, but from the very beginning, you can't do this, because you are the Primarch, and you have been burdened with too much from the beginning, let alone what happened later."

Lane looked down.

Su Liya, who was sitting next to Ryan, suddenly felt a heart-wrenching pain in her heart.

Yes, from very early on, Suria had the feeling that Ryan has always been shouldering extremely heavy responsibilities and obligations far beyond what he should have borne at his age. He often pretends to be relaxed, but... The knight could only stretch out his hand, and squeezed Ryan's big cold hand.

"I'm telling you today,

What is freedom? What is freedom? Malcador looked at his son and narrowed his eyes slightly: "The so-called freedom is actually divided into two types. The first type, we call it 'liberty', and the second type, we call it 'freedom'." . "

"Although liberty and freedom are both called freedom, their meanings are quite different. Liberty refers to freedom from being dominated by others, and freedom from the influence of slavery and slavery. Liberty does not mean 'doing what you want', but getting rid of the domination of others." Malcador stretched out his finger first, and wrote on the table with spiritual energy: "This is very simple. Why do humans resist Chaos? Why do the immortals support the emperor to unify Terra? Why did Angron rebel against the slave masters? He, they are just for liberty, to regain their control and autonomy in life, this is freedom."

"Yeah." Ryan and Suria both nodded.

"Similar to it but with a completely different core is 'freedom'. What is freedom?" Malcador said with a smile: "The meaning of freedom is also very simple, that is to get rid of the shackles of fate, get rid of the domination of inevitability, and have your own choice." power, this is freedom."

"Freedom is considered to be the understanding and control of inevitability, but in practice, the results it produces are often absurd. For example, is Angron free? If he is, then he was inspired in Nukelia. Attacked by the clan, seriously wounded, captured and turned into a gladiator, and finally put on the Butcher's Nails, all these can be considered as fate. He is obviously not free, but Angron resisted, he resisted with his free will, which is obviously is free, but what about the result of his resistance?"

"My brother was taken away by his father. This is not free." Ryan nodded, thinking.

"Yes, this is fate again, but this is the result of Angron's own choice. When he chose to forcefully serve the Emperor, he was free, but soon he was not free. He chose At the moment of betrayal, he was free, but immediately as he fell into chaos, he became an unfree being, a toy of Khorne, for the same reason, the World Eaters Chapter was unwilling to accept the Emperor's Controlling, self-choice to install the Butcher's Nail is obviously controlled by free will, but we all know what is going on with the Butcher's Nail, is it still free to install that kind of thing?" Malcador laughed.

Ryan smiled wryly, what is the Butcher's Nail? In the simplest terms, it is to cut off half of the brain and undergo biomechanical implant transformation. Since then, those who accept the transformation will lose all sources of happiness and excitement. Being able to obtain and secrete a trace of happiness is a kind of dark technology specially made for gladiators.

"On the lie called freedom, there are endless shackles, Ryan." Malcador then pointed to Suria: "You choose to marry Suria, accept the canonization of the spirit god, and choose to become a king. It is a decision of your free will, this point, no one can interfere with you, but as you make a decision, everything changes, you are no longer free, but bear deeper responsibilities, deeper shackles, you Maybe you haven’t regretted it, but you must have thought about it more than once in your heart, why do you become more tired and harder as you pursue freedom?”

"Everything is as my father said, but I have no regrets about my choice to marry Suria." Ryan felt a little warmth in his heart, he took Suria's hand, and smiled at his wife .

"It's good that you have your own ideas." Malcador continued: "But after such deconstruction, we have to turn back to two paths, one is the determinism of all things, which is also very simple, that is, our The cause of everything can be found from any event, and since there is a cause, the occurrence of all things becomes inevitable, and the more you pursue freedom, the less free you will be.”

"You want to fight against the last moment, you need to quickly control the country and form an army, so it is inevitable for you to become the king, and it is inevitable for you to marry Suria."

"And your path, from my sacrifice to the Emperor's attempt to create the Primarch, is inevitable."

"The attempt to create the Primarch can be summed up in the confrontation between humans, Eldar and Chaos, which is also inevitable."

"Then this problem is over, because we can trace back to the origin of chaos, back to the battle of heaven between the Old Sage and the Necrontyr, back to the birth of all spirits, back to the Big Bang of the universe." Malcador grinned and said: "In this case, the operation of all things is fixed, so what is the point of our life?"

"That's not right." Ryan shook his head: "Otherwise all the sacrifices we made, all the sacrifices you made, father, the sacrifices of all human beings and even the entire universe, wouldn't they be meaningless?"

"That's right!" Malcador had a teachable expression on his son's face, and the stamper nodded gently: "Then what resists determinism is free will. People firmly believe that through their own efforts, cause and effect can be reversed and can be spontaneously used Events happen, choices are made that set in motion a whole new chain of cause and effect, and everyone can make a decision, but is also responsible for their own decisions."

"But here comes the problem. Since it is a decision made by oneself, it is natural to be responsible for one's own decision. The chain of responsibilities, laws, morality, and ethics begin to appear, so it is inevitable that emotions will arise, hatred will spread, and mortals will fight each other. Intense emotions reflected and intensified the mutation of the subspace, leading to the birth of chaos, and also led to endless exploitation and enslavement, hatred and slaughter among mortals."

Ryan and Suria looked at each other and nodded in approval.

"As the hatred grows, gradually, its roots can no longer be traced, the hatred bred and born in class, race, country and culture will only overflow more and more, and gradually evolve into lost The war of control spreads hatred to every mortal individual." Malcador looked into the distance: "Chaos is born from this, obviously they are the root of all evil, but so far no one has been found that can completely defeat them." their way."

"Isn't it even the imperial truth?" Ryan asked in confusion.

"Imperial Truth... Do you know that with the spread of Imperial Truth in the Great Crusade, a new materialistic Chaos God is being conceived in the warp, and if this continues, a new Chaos God will emerge, and the Emperor He is the mortal spokesperson of this new god." Malcador showed his withered teeth: "This is not good, not at all."

"Why is it bad?" Suria was still puzzled: "If you do this, won't the emperor gain enough power to deal with the four gods of chaos?"

"The nature has changed, from a war between mortals and Chaos to a war between Chaos and Chaos." Malcador shook his head: "The emperor's method is just to make the map smaller, make everything pure, and divide everything violently." Become 'us' and 'enemy', the chain of hatred and war will continue to be staged, never-ending, but if the webway project can be successful, its scale will be controlled, but essentially nothing has changed."

"And this is why the immortals left the emperor one after another. They found that they were deceived, and the emperor did not completely solve the chaos. On the contrary, he brutally brought everything into his own order and control. After gathering the power of human beings, he also used the shackles called order and rules to kill the countless possibilities that human beings should have. Therefore, the disappointed and angry immortals left one after another. Only I understand him, and I understand God. Emperor."

"The Primarchs were born to be weapons, they were born to be tools, they were born to kill and rule." Malcador said softly: "But the Emperor is not, I am not, and mortals are not. Primarchs must be brave, must be fearless, mortals I am not a born warrior, but the Emperor still does this. I, Malcador, as his only confidant and best friend, am willing to dedicate everything to him, even if I use up my spiritual power to maintain the Golden Throne, even if it takes me All the power of the immortals, just to let him arrange the funeral."

"It's a long way to go, now you understand that all so-called freedoms are false propositions." Malcador continued with a smile: "Then the question is, what is real freedom, how do we end the chain of hatred, and how do we achieve freedom?" One's own freedom, how to surpass human beings in negation and affirmation, this is the ultimate question related to the origin of the universe, I leave it to you."

"What should I do?" Ryan said subconsciously.

"Silly boy." Malcador smiled kindly: "You have to find the answer yourself, because this is a question that neither the Emperor nor I can answer."

"You and the emperor can't answer the question, you want to leave it to me?" Ryan said with some anger and displeasure: "How could I know? I am only fifty years old this year, how about you? You have lived for seven thousand years , the emperor is more than 48,000 years old, you can't figure out the question, throw it to me now?!"

"Because you are our child." Malcador suddenly stretched out his haggard and wrinkled hand, pressed Ryan's head, and gently rubbed his long black hair. His affectionate and kind eyes stared at Ryan closely, as if he wanted to imprint everything about him deeply in his mind: "Isn't it what a father must do to hand over his life's ideals and wishes to the next generation?" Do you have any expectations?"

Ryan froze, and the Primarch was about to say something, but he found that Malcador's figure was gradually fading.

The last power remaining in Ryan's body is being exhausted, and Malcador himself has discovered this. At this time, the stamper faded away all the sarcasm and cynicism, and he revealed his mortal face. It was a simple, dying man. old man.

He is the founder of the bureaucratic system of the Human Galactic Empire. He is the most powerful person under the Emperor. He is the strongest psychic in the empire other than the Emperor. Most people forget.

There was nothing divine in his appearance, unlike the first-time fascination and worship that the Emperor and the Primarchs had.

Because this is a human face, a mortal face, without any divinity in him. If you don't look at his golden double-headed eagle scepter, most people can't compare him with an ordinary old bureaucrat. distinguish.

"I really have a lot of things to say to you, child, but I don't have time." Malcador watched helplessly as he was dissipating: "Your existence is the reason why I and the immortals have tried everything possible to create the Primarch. Saved from the forces of darkness, my genes and the Emperor's genes make you up."

"The immortal gene in your body has been lost due to the previous destruction by Tzeentch and sharing it with Suria." A golden light shot out from Malcador's chest and poured into Ryan's body: "Now, let me restore it, but , this is the last time."

"Father!" Lion finally shed tears, and the Primarch tried to reach out, but he caught nothing.

"To find the meaning of your own battle, to find the way to end all these hatred chains, to solve the ultimate proposition of the universe, there is still hope, Ryan." Malcador's figure turned into light: "Please, my son."

"What you lose is the shackles called freedom, what you gain is the whole world! Child!"

The last imprint belonging to the handprinter in the entire universe has disappeared, and the hero's light has dissipated with the wind of chaos in the subspace, without any echo. The nine and three-quarters platform has been disillusioned, and what remains is a large area. nothingness.

All the confusion on Ryan's face disappeared, and the Primarch pulled Suria, who was already in tears, to kneel down.

"Thank you, Father!"

The stalwart psychic energy of the Primarch of the Gray Knight was re-ignited, more vigorous than ever before, in addition to the usual sky blue and silver flames, it also added a golden flame light.

Since then, Ryan has no more confusion.

"The hymn of the foster father is the hymn of mortals." Su Liya gently wiped her tears, and the female knight stretched out her hand sadly: "He is a hero, a real hero."

Lion reached out to wipe away the tears, and the Primarch opened his hands, and he silently recited an ancient song.

"The Emperor's Hand is the Guardian Hand." Sky blue and silver flames lit up.

"The hand of the father is the hand of nurturing." The golden flame lit up.

"Put your hands together, and the door will open."

A portal back to the mortal world emerged from the chaos of the Warp.

"Thanks to Tzeentch and the other three gods of chaos, the source quality they gave to the digital elf gods in Mogul's body is enough, and there is even a surplus." Ryan wept and forced a smile at Suria Said: "Well... it's time to go back and continue to fulfill our own, the mission we chose, to save the mortal world, stop Archaon and the last moment!"

"Hmm!" Surya took Ryan's hand.

………I am farewell, the dividing line of the handprinter………

Brittania, Palace of Fontainebleau.

It has been more than two months since his father and mother disappeared. Devonhill has never hated his own weakness and incompetence as much as he does today. The eldest son of the Sun King is training hard under the guidance of the Green Knight and accepting various courses He sat down to hear how Uncle Lawn and Grandpa François handled the internal affairs, just to persevere earlier.

After finishing the entire course with great difficulty, Devonhill just got off the horse and was about to take a breather. At this moment, a gust of wind blew, and Devonhill suddenly felt his head being gently stroked.

The proud baron usually hated being touched on the head. Except for his father, two mothers, and Uncle Angron, Devonhill would be angry if anyone touched his head.

But why does this feel so warm, so sad?

Under the strange gaze of Sister Twilight, the son shed tears. He stretched out his hand, but he didn't catch anything.

Something turned into the wind and left forever.

forever.