Warhammer Divine Throne

"If nothing unexpected happens, yes." Clarkson agreed: "Jonson has always handled issues like this, hasn’t he?"

"Alright, let’s bring the topic back to wine." To Fugen, Jonson’s way was really too rigid and dull; there are many perfect ways to solve the problem of a cow, yet Jonson always uses just two methods to handle all issues. Fugen didn’t want to criticize Jonson’s style, so he had to change the subject: "Father, when it comes to understanding and loving wine, it’s undoubtedly your closest friend, Prime Minister Macado. I hear that his storeroom contains countless rare and fine wines from human history, his collection even makes you admit your inferiority."

"That’s right, Macado’s collection covers the entire history of mankind. Many of his items can be traced back to the era of Ancient Terra and the vineyard and winery times. His collection is no longer just about beverages; it’s a manifestation of human civilization." The Emperor raised his wine glass, gently savoring the Old World’s finest wine, Lysa Lus: "Macado’s collection still exists. His items are stored in a static force field, these exquisite brews carry countless memories."

"It’s said that only Don often has the chance to drink with Macado." Fugen was clearly interested: "I hope I also have the chance to taste Macado’s collection."

"All of Macado’s collection belongs to Laine." The Emperor said coldly: "All of it is Laine’s property."

Fugen: "......"

Clarkson: "......"

"So... when are we going to capture Mortarion and Petrabo? I’m getting a bit anxious." Clarkson asked a topic he cared about after a brief silence: "Why do they refuse to return to the Empire when they know, father, you are already summoning all the Primarchs, and there’s a purification method?"

"Angerong has returned, but look at his current state?" Fugen lightly ran his fingers through his smooth silver hair: "Like an old farmer, he’s already disappointed in everything, including the Empire, including Chaos. The same goes for Mortarion and Petrabo; if we cannot perfectly solve their problems, it’s better to wait for the opportune moment and find a way to solve them. Otherwise, even if purified, they won’t be willing to serve the Empire again."

"Let’s not talk about Angerong, as for Mortarion and Petrabo... the price is too high." The Emperor finally spoke, his eyes like lightning, gazing into the distance: "Until I come up with a detailed plan, there’s no intention yet."

"What about Don?"

"Can’t be found."

"Alright."

......I am the loyal dividing line......

The next day, the Emperor and Clarkson left, leaving only Fugen.

A section of the Ash Legion, about ten thousand men, has been directly teleported to Itaza by Mazda Moody using a teleportation spell. Here, the Lizardmen will defend Itaza at all costs until Venerable Crok is fully revived.

The decaying remains within the Ancient Saint Shield are gradually emanating vitality, resonating on the streets of Itaza with ancient echoes. It is the murmurs of Venerable Crok’s soul, and under the Emperor’s call, Venerable Crok’s soul is gradually returning to his body.

Dressed in his purple full plate armor, with the power sword Glory hanging from his waist, combing his silver hair, and tying his purple and gold cloak, Fugen emerged from the room arranged by the Lizardmen.

The Primarch of the Emperor’s Sons was quickly awed by the scene before him.

The entire city now gathered the largest number of Lizardman army in history, tens of thousands of the Lizardman Legion and Spirit Lizard Legion are preparing to face the battle; ancient instruments are being activated, with rays of light shooting straight to the sky from the towering Ancient Saint Pyramid.

The human army of the Ash Legion assembled in the square, although the presence of these ancient species and their once-glorious civilization in the rainforest shocked the human soldiers, no soldier had thoughts of retreating. This legion had long been captivated by Fugen’s personal charm, they were ready to fight for glory.

"Lord Fugen." Louis from the Luigi Commerce Association had not been in good spirits. He approached Fugen and bowed: "Good morning."

"Good morning." Fugen was half a head taller than Hadrian; Hadrian’s height only reached Fugen’s chest. Upon seeing the merchant’s appearance, Fugen responded with a smile: "Are you adapting to staying here?"

"Not quite, especially since the food the locals offer contains quite a bit of insects." Hadrian shook his head with a wry smile, as the big merchant was controlling his expression; a reasonable amount of complaint can garner agreement and empathy, while excessive complaint only causes annoyance.

Hadrian knew he had joined a grand and frightening family. Just yesterday, after the appearance of that radiant True God—yes, Hadrian firmly believed that the other was surely a True God—he became even more steadfast in this belief.

This whole family is a family of gods.

"I believe I instructed you to bring your own food." Fugen saw through Hadrian’s little trick but cleverly didn’t expose it, only stating the orders he had given.

"Certainly, following your instructions, we all brought our food, but evidently quite a few human warriors are willing to try the delicacies of these ancient races; at least their raisins and various fruits taste good." Hadrian said with a smile: "Following your teaching, Legion Commander, we’re all willing to try new things. Believe me, trading with the ancient races in the rainforest will bring us unimaginably rich profits."