Charles could not comprehend the full weight of Dukel's words, yet the implications left him deeply unsettled. As a senior Arbiter of the Adeptus Arbites, he had never encountered such an unconventional method of investigation.
Even the High Lords, who often bent the truth to suit their needs, would at least fabricate a semblance of legitimacy before condemning someone.
What does he mean, 'It doesn't matter who the murderer is'? Weren't they here to uncover the truth?
Charles remained speechless. "Your Highness, your perspective is... unorthodox."
Macragge's rigid sense of justice made it difficult for him to compromise his convictions. In many ways, this was his greatest strength—perhaps even something Lord Guilliman himself would appreciate.
Yet in Dukel's eyes, such rigidity was a liability.
The Captain-General of the Adeptus Custodes, who had worked alongside him for longer, had begun to understand his reasoning.
After a brief pause, Constantin Valdor turned to the Primarch. "Your Highness, the matter of House Paul is far from concluded. We must ensure a thorough cleanup. Even among the lowest dregs of Terra's underhive, none are truly ignorant. If we are to maintain control, we require something that appears to be irrefutable evidence—evidence that must be found within House Paul."
As one of the very few who understood the truth from the beginning, Valdor knew there was never a murderer.
But his unwavering loyalty to the Emperor ensured he stood firmly by His Majesty and the Primarch.
Dukel regarded him approvingly. "Valdor, this fire rages fiercely, but I trust the Custodes are more than capable of saving House Paul's so-called 'victims' from its path."
Valdor gave a curt nod. "Your Highness, the Custodes have secured the estate and evacuated the inhabitants. Fortunately, while the fire has obliterated the structures, it has miraculously left the residents unharmed. However..."
"However?" Dukel prompted.
"I suspect there were witnesses to how the blaze began. If we simply make them disappear, our actions will be laid bare before the nobility. But exterminating them entirely is also... problematic. House Paul is deeply intertwined with the aristocracy of Terra, and the noble houses are a single entity in all but name. Your Highness, given the current political landscape, our options are limited."
Valdor spoke with measured caution.
The so-called meritorious families were those that had served the Imperium since the Great Crusade, honored by the Emperor Himself. For ten thousand years, they had intermarried and traded favors, forming an intricate web of power that spanned the galaxy.
While they often clashed internally, their unity in the face of external threats was absolute. When confronted with a common enemy, the nobles of Terra would set aside their rivalries in an instant.
Their interests were inextricably linked, and ten thousand years had forged an unbreakable network. Collectively, they controlled nearly half of the Imperium's power.
Even Guilliman and the Lion had struggled to contend with these entrenched forces.
Not even the Captain-General had a clear solution to handling the aftermath.
Dukel, however, remained unfazed. "We hold the blade in our hands, Valdor. No matter how tightly woven their connections, they will fray under the edge. Even if they share blood, that bond means nothing before the sword."
Rather than reassured, Valdor grew more uneasy. "Your Highness, Terra is unlike any other world in the Imperium. As the Throneworld, it is sacrosanct. Imperial law reigns supreme here. If you overstep this boundary, the nobility will wield those very laws against you."
Dukel regarded him with a strange expression before breaking into a rare smile.
"Your Highness, this is not a laughing matter. Imperial law is a weapon, and in the hands of the nobility, it is a terrible one." Valdor's voice was solemn.
Dukel's smile did not fade. "But it is not only their weapon."
His gaze sharpened. "I can wield it just as well. House Paul will fall—by the Emperor's own laws."
The Primarch wasted no further time. Striding forward with unshakable purpose, he reached the smoldering remains of House Paul's estate. Before him, nobles clad in opulent finery huddled together, uncertain and afraid.
The Primarch's voice rang out, clear and commanding.
"House Paul, lords of a thousand worlds—where is your Patriarch?"
A trembling voice responded. "Viz Paul, second son of the Holy Empire, pays his respects."
Within the Noosphere, Efilar's voice whispered to the Primarch. Your Highness, the Grand Inquisitor is his nephew.
Dukel's expression darkened, his fury flaring like a psychic storm.
A palpable aura of divine wrath suffused the air, freezing the gathered mortals in place. His words sent a chill through their souls.
"Viz, your sins can no longer be concealed!"
The noble's face twisted in confusion. He exchanged panicked glances with his kin, their expressions mirroring his own disbelief.
"What...?"
"Do you not remember the crimes you have committed?" Dukel's gaze was like a blade pressed against Viz's throat. "I will grant you one last chance to confess. Do not force me to recite them myself."
The weight of those words crushed Viz's resolve. His mind raced, his gaze flickering toward the still-burning fire. The flames had consumed a precise section of the estate—just enough to erase the necessary evidence, yet leaving the rest untouched.
The realization dawned upon him with terrifying clarity.
He had been a fool.
He had assumed the Primarch had come to investigate.
The return of the Emperor's sons had already set the stage for inevitable conflict between the Imperium's rulers and its nobility. House Paul had braced for battle, believing the struggle would unfold gradually, over decades.
Never had he expected the reckoning to arrive immediately.
Within the first hour of the Primarch's return to Terra.
And now, House Paul stood alone.
With a trembling breath, Viz fell to his knees.
"Your Highness! I—I am guilty! Over the years, House Paul has forsaken its honored legacy. We have tarnished the Emperor's blessing. I confess! Under my own name, I expose the collusion between the Grand Inquisitor and our house! We have conspired to subjugate planetary governors and siphon Imperial resources!"
Captain Charles, watching from the sidelines, was dumbfounded.
He's confessing? Just like that?
A Terra-born noble, surrendering without resistance?
This was not weakness—it was pragmatism.
The nobility understood survival above all else. And right now, resistance meant extinction.
Viz Paul's voice quivered. "Your Highness, I will present myself before the Adeptus Arbites. I will testify to our crimes. But please... House Paul had no hand in His Majesty's assassination."
"So, the Grand Inquisitor took his own life out of fear of retribution for his collusion with you?"
Viz clenched his jaw before replying, "Yes, Your Highness. My nephew was guilty of many heinous acts. Overcome with terror at the consequences he would face, he chose to end his own life rather than be judged."
The Primarch turned to Charles. "Does this testimony align with the protocols of the Adeptus Arbites?"
Charles remained silent for several moments, carefully considering his words before answering. "Patriarch Paul has surrendered willingly and provided substantial evidence. This aligns with the judiciary protocols of the Adeptus Arbites."
Viz hurriedly added, "I am prepared to testify and submit all relevant evidence to the authorities. I only ask that we clear the Paul family's name of any involvement in the assassination of His Majesty."
Dukel's expression remained unreadable as he asked, "And the fire that engulfed your family's estate—how did it start?"
"I set it myself," Viz admitted. "As the head of House Paul, I sought to erase all records of our misdeeds before they could be uncovered."
The Lord Commander of the Custodes, Valdor, listened to the exchange, his scalp tingling at the sheer surrealism of the situation.
Since when did the noble houses of Terra crumble so easily?
Had the arrival of His Highness Dukel turned the entire Throne World into an unfamiliar battlefield?
Was this what the ancients meant by 'The wages of sin is death'?
Regardless of his thoughts, the conversation continued.
Dukel leaned forward, his gaze sharp. "House Paul amassed a vast fortune through embezzlement, tax evasion, and corruption. Tell me, Wiz—where did all of these stolen resources go?"
Viz swallowed hard. "We indulged in excess, squandering wealth without restraint. We acknowledge our sins and accept the judgment of Imperial law."
"No." Dukel's voice was firm. He shook his head. "What you mean to say is that you generously donated all of these assets to the Grand Master of the Inquisition."
A chill ran down Wiz's spine. His heart, which had already been pounding in his chest, now felt like it might burst.
The room fell into stunned silence. Charles and the others struggled to process what they were hearing.
Only Dukel remained composed, his tone measured, his words carefully chosen. "House Paul is beholden to the Grand Inquisitor. The Grand Inquisitor, in turn, is bound to the Grand Master of the Inquisition. While it may be possible that House Paul had no direct involvement in the attempt on the Emperor's life, I highly doubt the same can be said for the Grand Inquisitor and his master."
Wiz's legs trembled. "Your Highness, the Paul family is not worthy of being associated with the Grand Master of the Inquisition."
Dukel shook his head. "Wrong answer, Wiz. I thought you were a smart man. It doesn't matter whether you actually have ties to the Grand Master or not. What matters is that I need you to have them."
Viz clenched his teeth. "But, Your Highness, if I do this, the Inquisition will not let the Paul family go."
Dukel placed a firm hand on his shoulder, and in an instant, a surge of courage ignited in Wiz's chest. Fear and anxiety dissipated like mist before the morning sun. The Primarch's voice resonated with certainty.
"As long as you are the first to denounce the Grand Master of the Inquisition, you will be redeeming yourself for your crimes. No matter the outcome, Terra may no longer be safe for your family, but I promise you—whether on Macragge or Ophelia VII, those among your kin who remain untainted will have sanctuary."
That promise, spoken with unshakable confidence, filled Viz with enough resolve to raise his head and meet the Primarch's gaze directly.
"Your Highness, I pray your word is true."
Viz agreed.
Not that he had a choice.
The Primarch's words left no room for hesitation. The illusion of choice was merely courtesy.
"I will produce evidence of collusion between the Grand Inquisitor and the Grand Master of the Inquisition."
Dukel nodded, satisfied. "Then the Paul family survives because of you. Valdo, dispatch a squad of the Adeptus Custodes to personally escort our witness."
Commander Valdo, still reeling from what he had just witnessed, relayed the order through his vox-link. His mind whirled in disbelief.
For ten thousand years since the Emperor ascended the Golden Throne, Terra had been ruled by the iron grip of four institutions: the Administratum, the Inquisition, the High Lords, and the Adeptus Arbites. The Custodes had long since withdrawn from such politics, dismissing these power struggles as beneath their concern. The aristocracy, for all their decadence and corruption, had remained an immovable force.
But then Dukel arrived.
And everything changed.
Was this the Emperor's will? The punishment of the wicked by their own hands?
Dukel turned his gaze to him and smirked. "This is merely playing by mortal rules. It is not difficult. During the Great Crusade, I conquered entire worlds with only three recruits. Fulgrim once thought he could do the same. He was mistaken."
Valdo said nothing. He simply acknowledged the Primarch's words with a respectful nod.
It was Captain Charles of the Lex Imperialis who finally broke the silence.
"Your Highness, I must warn you—Terra's legal institutions are firmly under the aristocracy's control. Once Viz arrives at the Hall of Judgment, he will either recant his confession or die in his cell. Even if he surrenders now, it will be nearly impossible to ensure due process."
That statement caught the attention of everyone present. Even Dukel gave Charles a new look—an appraisal rather than mere recognition.
Yes, he was a scholar of Macragge, like Guilliman, with the same strong features and noble demeanor. But beneath that, there was a cunning that even the Ultramarines would appreciate.
Dukel nodded. "Expected. The enforcement bodies of Terra are firmly in the hands of the nobility. The Paul family is confident they can manage the situation. But I don't care."
Viz flinched at the cold dismissal of his fate.
"Your testimony has already been recorded. That is enough. I merely required an excuse to act. Whether you uphold your statement or betray it makes no difference to me. I am not targeting the Paul family."
Dukel placed a hand on Wiz's shoulder again. "Your survival from here depends on your own efforts. My previous offer stands."
"Thank you for your mercy, Your Highness."
Dukel accepted the gratitude as his due. "I razed your estates, executed your peers, and ensured your family's downfall in the Empire's hierarchy. And yet, you should thank me. Perhaps you don't understand now, but one day, you will. The Second Legion is the most reasonable, after all."
For once, sincerity marked his tone.
He was a force pushing against the darkness of this age.
And he would not stop.
"Come. Let us find the next murderer."
The Paul family's case was closed. Dukel turned his attention to the next target on his list.
"Your Highness..." Valdo's voice held an unusual caution. "You don't truly intend to investigate the Grand Master of the Inquisition, do you?"
Dukel raised an eyebrow. "Of course."
Charles interjected, equally perplexed. "Your Highness, the nobility may be corrupt, but why are you so intent on targeting the Inquisition? Aren't we here to solve a crime? The Lex Imperialis has already ruled out the Inquisition's involvement in the Emperor's assassination."
Dukel sighed, as if speaking to children. "I am not targeting the Inquisition. The Regent is."
He had no personal grievance with the Inquisition. Yet both the Lion and Guilliman had marked them as a priority threat. The Paul family, the Grand Inquisitor—none of them had even appeared on the lists his brothers had compiled.
And yet, his actions had proven one thing—cleaning house on Terra was long overdue.
"We need to move. The Paul family's confession will have sent a warning to the true culprits. We must act before the Grand Master of the Tribunal has time to destroy the evidence."
Valdo merely sighed in resignation.
If he didn't already know who had stabbed the Emperor, he might have actually believed Dukel's pursuit of justice.
Captain Charles, however, remained skeptical. "Your Highness, the Inquisition will never cooperate. We lack sufficient grounds to formally investigate them. Terra is watching your every move. If you move against the Grand Master without justification, the High Lords will intervene. Even the Lord Speaker of the Senatorum Imperialis may personally act to stop you."
Dukel's expression darkened. "So I need a reason?"
Charles nodded. "A valid one. The Inquisition has many sins, but they are uninvolved in this case. Without proof, they will resist with force. While you may not fear their strength, the ensuing conflict could be disastrous."
Dukel unsheathed the Blade of Understanding. Golden flames roared to life along its length.
The Custodes and Arbitrators fell silent.
"No reason to investigate the Inquisition? Then we shall find one."
"That's easier said than—"
Charles stopped mid-sentence.
A flicker of movement. A killing intent colder than the void.
Valdo's instincts screamed. "Protect the Primarch!"
The Custodes reacted instantly, forming an impenetrable defense. But it was too late. The assassin was already among them.
Fast. Too fast.
In mere moments, the elite warriors were knocked aside like dolls. Their power armor barely absorbed the strikes.
Dukel met his attacker's blade.
A Primarch against an assassin.
The fight lasted only moments. Dukel deflected the strikes, but with increasing difficulty. With a final, forceful clash, he staggered back, his arms momentarily numb.
His gaze burned with unwavering resolve. "A warrior of this caliber, hidden on Terra..."
His grip tightened on his sword.
"The true assassin of the Emperor. Even if I die today, I swear I will reveal your face to the Imperium!"
"The Lord of the Second Legion?"
The assassin's voice was cold and devoid of emotion, slicing through the tense air like a dagger.
"You have crossed the threshold. Fear is the harbinger of truth. Rest in peace, for you will not leave here alive."
A suffocating aura erupted from his form, and in an instant, countless afterimages flickered around the investigation team. The unmistakable nature of the technique left no room for doubt about his identity.
"The Murderous Ghost!"
"He's the one who tried to assassinate the Emperor!"
"Damn it, hold your ground! Protect His Highness, Lord Dukel!"
"You are the one who deserves to die!" A furious roar erupted from the darkness, shattering the momentary paralysis of fear.
A blade wreathed in golden flames carved through the shadows, its radiance igniting the night sky. The Emperor's Fire burned bright, its sacred fury consuming all in its path. The Murderous Ghost let out a strangled cry, his form twisting as he dissolved into a shifting black silhouette, vanishing mid-air.
Yet even in retreat, he faltered.
The holy fire had seared him.
His speed, once preternatural, had diminished.
Dukel lowered his sword, its incandescent glow slowly dimming. He turned to his men, his voice calm but firm. "Is anyone hurt?"
"No, Your Highness. We're fine."
"Thank you for your protection."
"But why would the Murderous Ghost target you now?" one of the warriors asked, suspicion lacing his words.
Dukel's gaze sharpened. "Perhaps because we've uncovered the truth. Their hand has been forced—they can no longer afford to lurk in the shadows."
Charles, standing slightly apart, studied the direction in which the assassin had fled. Realization dawned upon him like a thunderclap. The escape route led directly toward the Imperial Court.
His blood ran cold.
"Your Highness, you..."
Before he could voice his thoughts, Dukel's voice thundered across Terra, amplified by the sheer force of his demigod might.
"An attempt on the Emperor's life. An attempt on a Primarch's life. Terra, how many more betrayals will you reveal before I am done?! The wicked will not escape my judgment. No matter the cost, I swear—I will bring you all to ruin!"
Without another word, Dukel became a streak of golden fire, tearing through the sky in pursuit of the assassin.
"The Murderous Ghost is wounded! The Emperor's Fire will consume him! He won't get far!"
Charles remained silent.
His mind was a storm of conflicting thoughts. He had spent decades upholding his duty, unshaken by the shifting tides of Imperial politics. But now—
If the Murderous Ghost was in league with Dukel...
If the assassination attempt on the Emperor was part of a greater scheme...
The implications were unthinkable.
No. It couldn't be. He refused to entertain such a notion.
Yet he knew one thing for certain: the entire ruling class of Terra would be in turmoil by now.
And indeed, chaos had already erupted across the Throneworld.
The specter of the Emperor's would-be assassin had returned—this time, to strike at a Primarch. Such an event was without precedent in the ten-thousand-year history of the Imperium.
"Are we certain it was the Murderous Ghost?"
"Yes. The reports are consistent. Too many witnesses saw him in action, and he was strong enough to engage a Primarch. No imposter could replicate such prowess."
"How did the situation escalate so rapidly? The investigation was only just beginning."
"The real architect behind the Emperor's assassination is growing desperate. They made their move against the Second Primarch the moment they sensed danger."
"An attack on the Emperor. An attack on a Primarch. How long has such a force lurked in the darkness of our Imperium? The Murderous Ghost may have been scorched by the Emperor's Fire, but if he survives... I must see this specter with my own eyes."
The halls of Terra shuddered with unrest.
The assassination attempt on the Emperor had already shaken the Imperium to its core.
But now, the revelation that even a Primarch was not safe...
Across the Throneworld, nobles and officials abandoned their affairs, turning their full attention to the crisis. The Adeptus Custodes were on high alert. The Inquisition moved in silence, its agents already working in the shadows.
And beneath the surface, in a hidden chamber veiled in perpetual twilight, those who truly ruled from the darkness convened.
"The Murderous Ghost—he's yours, isn't he? Was it your plan to strike at the Emperor? And now at Dukel?"
The opposing figure, shrouded in the gloom, was just as perplexed. "What? You think I orchestrated this?"
"If not you, then who? I had no reason to disrupt my own plans. Why would I target the Corpse on the Throne?"
"Then who in the warp did?"
Silence.
"I confirmed it myself," another voice murmured. "The Murderous Ghost possesses enough power to stand against a Primarch."
"And his escape route?"
"Straight toward the Inquisition."
"Could it be that the Murderous Ghost is an agent of the Inquisition?"
"What did Dukel uncover? The Custodes have locked down the investigation site—we have no way of knowing."
The entirety of Terra was thrown into disarray.
Yet amid the speculation and paranoia, one possibility was left unspoken, lurking at the edges of thought.
No one dared to suggest that Dukel himself was orchestrating the grand deception.
But all eyes were now upon him.
And many within the Imperium found themselves wondering—
What truth had he unearthed?