Countless carved beams and painted rafters, flags and reliefs lined up one after another, and scrolls depicting the glorious stories since its birth stretched for several thousand li, disappearing at the end of Kasjia's vision.
The Imperial Palace on Terra.
The silver-white sky was still snowing lightly, and the silky snowflakes fell, complementing the rocks protruding from the fine snow.
The City of Gold, stretching for a thousand li on the plateau, occupied the entire plateau.
Walking lightly across the vast, white stone ground, which had been reviewed by countless Titan-class creations and soldiers, Kasjia and Fulgrim beside him finally stopped in front of the several-hundred-meter-high palace gate, to be inspected by the golden-armored demigods.
Logically, as a banquet for the Primarchs and the Emperor, only Fulgrim should have received an invitation.
But for some reason, the Emperor's invitation had also been sent to him, Kasjia.
Two copies.
One was Fulgrim's, and the other was his, Kasjia's.
The Emperor had invited Kasjia to join the banquet.
"Wait, you're saying I got one too?"
"Yes... apart from Number Three, the Emperor has also invited you."
"I hope you will not disappoint his expectations."
Even the Custodian who had delivered the letter had a look of displeasure in his eyes that was almost enough to eat him alive.
After placing the invitation, woven from gold thread, in Kasjia's hand, the Custodian had left Fulgrim's door at an extremely fast speed.
The Emperor invited me to a meeting?
Me, Kasjia Sherlock?
A common First Lord Commander of the Emperor's Children.
"What did he invite me for?"
Kasjia had no answer.
But since it was an invitation from the Emperor, he could not refuse.
After changing into a magnificent and smart evening suit, Kasjia, accompanied by Fulgrim in a purple stola, stepped into the main gate of the Imperial Palace.
And submitted their invitations to the two Custodians guarding the gate.
But after looking him over, the Custodians did not choose to let him pass.
"Mr. Kasjia, the Emperor's banquet is extremely formal."
"Please tidy up your appearance before attending."
"Is there something wrong with my appearance?"
Kasjia bent down and checked his evening suit.
Tailor-made by one of the best tailors on Terra, both the fabric and the workmanship could be called perfect among the Emperor's Children.
"There is indeed nothing wrong with your attire."
Then what about the lipstick marks on your face?
The Custodian pointed at him helplessly.
Speaking of which, Kasjia's face instantly fell.
He glared fiercely at the snickering Fulgrim beside him.
"I'm sorry..."
"But she said it's a declaration of her ownership."
It was a public execution.
Kasjia, with a face full of lipstick marks, buried his head even lower.
Looking at the schadenfreude and pride in her purple eyes, he reasonably suspected that this was Fulgrim's revenge for him going to the Iron Hands.
She seemed to be enjoying it very much.
What a bad woman.
But what could Kasjia do?
Even his own pelvis had just been glued back together.
Facing the strange gazes from the Custodians and mortal servants from all directions, he could only lower his head and continue to walk towards the center of the towering palace hall.
The banquet was held in the center of the palace.
Perhaps because this thousand-li-long palace was too large, even Kasjia had no idea which level of the palace this was.
He only knew that he had passed through countless doors inlaid with gems and gold, and had entered countless palaces with complex and magnificent decorations and sculptures.
Finally, in a magnificent hall with a luxurious dining table several dozen meters long, the two of them stopped.
Very magnificent and splendid.
Kasjia didn't know how many times he had used the phrase "magnificent and splendid" in his mind, but it seemed that in Old Man Gold's aesthetic, this phrase was the best description of the best architecture.
Of course, not just the architecture.
The one sitting at the head of the table was even more magnificent and splendid than this palace.
And when Kasjia wanted to see his true face clearly, it was still covered with a mist, as before.
It was too blurry to see anything clearly.
As for the Custodian Commander Valdor beside him, it was the same.
Just as tall and mighty, just as magnificent and splendid.
And with an ugly-as-hell mohawk.
This was also a long-standing unsolved mystery for Kasjia.
Logically, the Custodians should have reached the peak of current human standards in both philosophy and art. Even if one were to be chosen as a Sector Governor, they would be an absolute philosopher-king.
So, under what circumstances would a perfect human with the strongest philosophical and artistic abilities...
...choose a mohawk as his hairstyle?
Kasjia didn't know.
The only one he could see clearly was the old man in a black robe sitting beside him.
The long hood hid his old face in the shadows. He leaned on a psychic staff that was a bit too long for him, and said nothing.
Malcador the Sigillite.
Apart from them, several other Primarchs had also gathered at the banquet.
Since things had come to this, let's eat first.
The seating order of the banquet, apart from the three at the head of the table, the Emperor, Valdor, and Malcador, was in the order of the Primarchs' return (except for Alpharius).
At the head was the master of the Luna Wolves, Horus. He seemed a little excited and nervous.
Perhaps he was anxious about the upcoming announcement of the Warmaster position.
Below him was the Wolf King, Leman Russ.
He was eating.
Beside him was an empty chair. The master of the Second Legion had not yet arrived.
Next was Ferris, who was smiling and welcoming Fulgrim and Kasjia. Fulgrim's seat was right beside hers.
And surprisingly, the seat with Kasjia's name was also here.
Even ahead of the several Primarchs who had returned later!
He sat down, a little flattered.
And next to him were the enthusiastically talking Vulkan, the Salamander, and Rogal Dorn, the Praetorian.
They did not seem to be dissatisfied with Kasjia's seat being higher than theirs.
After all, the Primarchs were all adults and would not throw a childish tantrum on the spot.
At least, the few who had returned so far were.
And at the very end, there was the guy who was frowning and looking at everyone, as if he always had something on his mind.
Robou—
Gui↑lli↓man→!
He really doesn't look like a good person.
Kasjia muttered to himself, seeing Guilliman for the first time.
No wonder they always say he's ambitious.
After taking his seat, a mortal servant from the other end of the magnificent dining table brought him several dishes he had never seen before.
In the center of his place was a sizzling piece of meat.
Accompanied by a rich, charred aroma and a faint, hot mist, the meat, as tender as butter, was easily cut into a small piece and savored.
The delicious meat juice, like the best ant-beef he had ever eaten, burst in his mouth with the charred aroma of careful grilling.
So good.
There were also some fruits on an exquisite porcelain plate. They looked a bit similar to the grapes in Kasjia's memory, but the fruity aroma seemed to be more rich and refreshing.
With a light bite, the sweet juice that burst out instantly filled Kasjia's mouth.
The fruity color, with a hint of fragrant aftertaste, made one reluctant to swallow.
Sometimes, transmigrating into Warhammer is not all bad.
Kasjia thought to himself.
Kasjia: I'm also a part of the transmigrated-into-Warhammer community. Why don't I feel any despair and darkness? ~ (∠ω<)⌒★
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