As the Savior and Emperor of the Imperium, Eden had always regarded himself as the big brother among the Primarchs.
Of course, Leon and Guilliman did not count.
For various reasons, those two looked much older than he did, so at most they could only be called brothers.
As for Dorn, when the Emperor found him, he was much younger than Leon and Guilliman, so naturally he ranked behind them.
There was nothing wrong with that stubborn mule calling him Big Brother.
Dorn looked at the warmly approachable Savior and, for a moment, found it hard to adjust. He hesitated.
He had never had such a good relationship with any of the other Primarchs before.
That stubborn mule's temper was simply too hardheaded. He was always arguing and clashing with the others over matters concerning the Emperor.
Most of the time, he existed in a half-isolated state, with no Primarch willing to get too close to him.
Even Guilliman, who had a better temper and occasionally spoke with him, had fallen out with him over the Codex Astartes.
"What, you don't want to acknowledge me as your brother?"
Eden looked at stubborn Dorn with a gentle smile. "The Imperium is different now, and so are the relationships between the Primarchs. You'll get used to it in time.
But I still hope you can truly become part of us and fight at our side."
The Savior's kindness stirred something in Dorn's heart.
Thinking of his father's instructions and of how the man before him had saved him, his lips moved slightly, as if he wanted to say something.
"B... Big Brother."
At last, Dorn forced the words out, barely above a whisper.
Afterward, he seemed visibly relieved, as though a weight had been lifted from him.
"Hey, Third Brother!"
Eden grabbed stubborn Dorn's hands and spoke with enthusiasm.
Then he draped an arm around the mule's shoulders and started walking out with him, every bit the Primarchs' big brother.
As they walked, Eden instructed him, "Rest up here in the Sanctuary for now and get familiar with the Imperium's current state.
Once you've recovered, I'll assign you an important defensive duty.
The old Emperor already spoke with me about your abilities. The Imperium's defenses simply can't do without you."
Dorn was still a little unused to this.
But the Emperor's praise, along with the Savior's trust, still made a smile appear on his face despite himself.
"Big Brother, I am the Wall of the Imperium. I will not fail Father's expectations."
This time, when Dorn said Big Brother, it came much more naturally.
"With you here, I'm at ease. I'll go take inventory and then transfer the relevant command authority over the forces to you."
Eden sounded quite attentive, like an older brother taking care of a younger one. "That equipment of yours is too outdated. When the time comes, I'll give you a batch of new gear..."
He had long wanted someone to take over all this tedious defensive work for him so he could relax a little.
Soon, the two figures gradually disappeared into the distance.
Not long after.
The Infernal Sauna District.
Smoke filled the district, plasma engines roared, and the entire place was noisier than ever before.
In one particular area, the engine machinery was running at even higher speed, the intensity constantly climbing.
It was the highest-intensity Super-Alloy Fascia Knife Hell!
The sound of high-strength alloy hammers pounding flesh rang out without pause. Every strike hit no less heavily than a blow from super-heavy machinery.
Even the alloy steel floorplates had sunk in slightly.
"By the Gene-Father, what astonishing physical toughness?!"
Tor Garadon, Captain of the Imperial Fists Third Battle Company, stood wrapped in bandages and covered with special medicinal patches.
As he stared at the tall figure still enduring inside Super-Alloy Fascia Knife Hell, his face was full of admiration.
Behind Garadon, the other Imperial Fists bruisers were also limping around, all of them clearly having been put through brutal training.
The warrior who had dared shout toward the Lord of the Mountain Fortress had received the most special attention of all. He was already lying on a stretcher.
"For the Gene-Father!"
Yet even so, that warrior still raised the only hand he could move, cheering on the tall figure inside Alloy Fascia Knife Hell.
That figure was their Imperial Fists Gene-Father, the Lord of the Mountain Fortress:
Rogal Dorn.
After Dorn's return, he had begun recuperating within the Sanctuary.
Once he learned that the Imperial Fists had failed to win their contest against the Ultramarines, he flew into a rage.
That stubborn mule believed that, as the Imperium's final wall, the Imperial Fists had to be tougher and stronger than any other warriors, physically if nowhere else.
So he drilled those sons of the Imperial Fists' gene-line at an even more punishing standard.
As for the gene-son who had dared to call out to him, Dorn had instead promoted him to his personal guard.
And then trained him to the highest possible standard.
Dorn had not punished that gene-son.
But he believed that if the man was truly that brave, then he ought to become one of the Imperial Fists' toughest warriors.
In other words, Dorn was effectively grooming him as a deputy.
As the Primarch of the Imperial Fists, Dorn personally took part in the hell challenge as well, wanting everyone to see the physical limits of the Wall of the Imperium!
Very soon, he broke several records for bodily toughness in succession.
His ranking in physical resilience surpassed Leon, Jaghatai Khan, and other Primarchs. He even exceeded the long-held second-place record of Dante, the longtime holder of the Infernal Fascia Knife trial.
The Imperial Fists' Primarch, the Lord of the Mountain Fortress, was now challenging the first-place record left behind by the Savior!
This drew crowds of warriors to watch. Calgar, Dante, and others came specifically to observe.
They all wanted to know whether the Primarch of the Imperial Fists could break the unknown record the Savior had left behind.
Whether he could truly reach the absolute limit of human bodily endurance!
"The Lord of the Mountain Fortress' physical strength has actually reached such a level..."
Dante was visibly shaken.
Although his record in the Infernal Fascia Knife trial ranked second, that had practically cost him his life. It was only because their Gene-Father Sanguinius had not wanted him returning to the Throne that he had survived it.
At that moment, the intensity of the Imperial Knight-grade plasma engine had been pushed to the maximum, and plasma was spilling outward.
There was even a scorched smell in the air.
Under the relentless pounding of the high-strength alloy hammers, Dorn endured in bitter struggle.
His record had already surpassed second place by a wide margin, yet he still had not broken the Savior's record.
"How much longer is this going to take?"
Dorn nearly ground his teeth to pieces.
Time felt unbearably long, and his body had already reached its limit. It felt as though every muscle in him was being kneaded, torn, and ripped apart without end.
It hurt more than being struck by a daemon sword. Even his consciousness was beginning to blur.
Dorn refused to believe that the Savior's bodily toughness could really be that much higher than his own.
Each Primarch had his own strengths, and his strength was supposed to be the toughness of his body.
Surely the Savior could not be that much stronger than him in psychic power, physical toughness, and combat ability all at once?
Yet no matter how Dorn endured, no matter how the numbers rose.
The Savior's name, sitting in first place on the rankings, remained utterly unmoved!
The record left by that being had already exceeded Dorn's imagination, and the imagination of every warrior present.
They all realized that the record left behind by the Savior far surpassed all warriors, even the Primarchs.
It stood like a towering mountain peak above the heads of all Imperial warriors, immovable and impossible to shake.
How astonishing was that?!
"AAAHHH!!!"
Dorn gathered his strength once more and let out a furious roar, pushing past his own limit again.
The toughness of his body filled the assembled warriors with admiration and awe.
In truth, the Lord of the Mountain Fortress had already gone a little numb, but under so many eyes he refused to give up.
Where no one could see, there was even the glimmer of tears in his eyes.
This was too hard. When was it ever going to end?!
"It should be soon, right?"
Calgar and the other warriors stared at the slowly rising data attached to the Lord of the Mountain Fortress and murmured to themselves.
They even began to hope, faintly, that he might break the Savior's record, allowing them to glimpse the true limit of that being.
People revered perfection.
But even more than that, they wanted to know exactly where the limits of perfection lay.
Just as the crowd was watching in expectation, they suddenly realized that the Lord of the Mountain Fortress' data had stopped rising.
Startled, they turned to look.
The Lord of the Mountain Fortress was sprawled over the machine, motionless.
At some unknown point, he had reached the limit of his body and blacked out completely.
"Quick, shut down the machine!"
Garadon and the Imperial Fists warriors rushed to stop the plasma engine, then dragged their Gene-Father out.
At that moment, the Infernal Sauna District's emergency response team arrived in time and immediately began treatment to restore the Lord of the Mountain Fortress.
They opened by jamming several restorative injections into him, then used specialized resuscitation devices to stimulate the consciousness of the unconscious Primarch.
The emergency team's bruisers were long since used to this kind of rescue.
Hardly a day went by in this district without seven or eight Astartes or high-ranking warriors blacking out, so they had long become experts through repetition.
Dorn woke up very quickly and immediately looked toward the projection suspended in the air.
Yet his record was still second place, while the Savior's name remained at the very top.
As though it were looking down upon him.
"How is that possible..."
Dorn drew in a deep breath, unable to believe it.
He had lost in the very thing he prided himself on most, bodily toughness, and even fighting with everything he had was not enough to win.
The Savior had not relied on blackstone machinery. He had defeated him with raw, genuine physical strength!
Only now did Dorn finally understand the gap between himself and the Savior.
That being was simply stronger than him in every possible respect.
At that moment, a disturbance suddenly rippled through the crowd.
Imperial warriors all turned toward one area with reverent eyes, saluting one after another as they stepped aside to clear a path.
The Savior, the Emperor of the Imperium, had arrived.
After what had just happened, the warriors had gained an even deeper understanding of the Savior's strength. Not even a Primarch could match him.
His power was unfathomable!
Eden came walking over, dressed in a light dark-gold robe.
Beneath the reverent gaze of the crowd, he lifted a hand slightly, signaling that the warriors need not be so formal.
"Big Brother."
Dorn instinctively greeted the Savior, his attitude noticeably changed.
He had now become completely convinced by the Savior as his elder brother.
That was simply how Primarchs and high-ranking warriors were. Only true strength could earn their conviction.
Especially in the fields where they themselves excelled.
Eden was quite pleased when he saw their reactions.
This was exactly why he had set up ranking boards in this district.
As for his own first-place score, it was naturally fake.
Eden would never voluntarily subject himself to that kind of abuse. It wasn't even his specialty.
Most of his power came directly from the Warp.
More importantly, he wanted to use this place to establish his authority, the kind no one else could shake.
Under the control of the Machine Goddess, the relevant leaderboard only recorded second place and below.
His own first-place position as the Savior had simply been placed there directly.
In other words, no matter how hard any challenger struggled, they would never be able to break his record.
At best, they could only stare up at it in despair.
This undoubtedly allowed him to win over those hulking Astartes bruisers, and even the Primarchs.
Earlier, after the First Primarch, the proud Lion, had challenged one of the infernal trials, even the way he spoke to Eden had become noticeably quieter.
And stubborn Dorn had just challenged it too. He now looked completely convinced.
Eden had deliberately chosen to appear only after stubborn Dorn had failed the challenge.
That created the most direct contrast and further cemented his own image as overwhelmingly powerful and formidable.
Judging by the results, it had worked extremely well.
As a qualified ruler, he never wasted a single opportunity to display his image.
"Brother, can you still move?" Eden asked with concern.
"No problem." Dorn gritted his teeth and stood up, too embarrassed to admit that he had collapsed from exhaustion.
"Good." Eden gave the stubborn mule two hearty pats, as a sign of affection. "Come with me. Your brother here is going to give you a gift."
"A gift?"
Hearing that, Dorn's expression changed, and anticipation rose in his heart.
In his whole life, he had only ever received a gift once.
That had been ten thousand years ago, when the Emperor, his father, gave him the Phalanx and the Imperial Fists Legion.
In truth, the Phalanx had originally belonged to the Inwit world.
In other words, when Dorn had returned, he had first presented the Emperor with the gigantic fortress-ship Phalanx and with a fully combat-ready spaceborne military force.
After the Emperor accepted them, he then gave the Phalanx and the newly formed Seventh Legion back to his Primarch son as a gift.
That gift had moved Dorn to tears. Father and son had enjoyed a harmonious reunion, filled with paternal affection and filial devotion, just shy of embracing each other and weeping.
"The old Emperor really does know how to give a gift."
Thinking of the old history between Dorn and the Emperor, Eden could not help making a crack to himself.
That stubborn mule looked like a rough, blunt brute, but he actually valued feelings very deeply.
For example, Dorn was not only a good son to the Emperor, he also cherished the old clan chief of Inwit's frozen world who had raised him to adulthood.
The old chief had taught him a great deal about tactics, strategy, and diplomacy.
Even after Dorn learned they were not related by blood, he still loved and respected the man.
He had even kept one of the old chief's worn fur-edged robes, and every night he would drape it over himself like a blanket in remembrance.
As a ruler and as the big brother of the Primarchs, Eden had studied Dorn's background and temperament long in advance.
He also possessed higher-dimensional knowledge unavailable to anyone else.
He knew this stubborn mule was someone he could rely on and trust. That was why he dared place the Imperium's defenses in Dorn's hands.
Before long, Eden led Dorn to a large Savior armory.
The massive doors rose open, and the two walked inside through a long passage. Everywhere there was a dazzling display of weapons and wargear.
At minimum, the equipment here began at master-crafted grade, and there was also a huge quantity of legendary-grade armaments.
Walking behind the Savior, Dorn stared hungrily at those weapons.
These were all excellent things.
That elder brother of his was even wealthier than he had imagined. Even Father's armory back then could hardly have been much better, right?
In truth, the Emperor back then had actually been rather poor, mainly because he had never fully brought the Mechanicus under his control.
Very soon, Dorn spotted a set of heavy armor with yellow livery standing on a fitting platform.
With just one glance, he found it difficult to move his feet.
The armor before him fit his aesthetic tastes almost perfectly, and the many built-in systems and force fields suited his combat habits exactly.
It looked practically custom-made for him!
And in fact, it was.
After collecting vast amounts of data and documentation, Eden had custom-made this entire wargear set specifically for stubborn Dorn, using a large quantity of relics and new technology in the process.
It was far better than Dorn's previous Primarch-grade equipment.
"You're giving this set of armor to me?" Dorn swallowed and asked with open anticipation.
But the answer he got was no. The Savior shook his head, and Dorn's eyes dimmed slightly.
"Who said I was only giving you this one set of armor?"
Eden shook his head and gave Dorn another pat.
"If word got out, people might think the Savior can't afford a proper gift. This entire armory is yours now!"
"Big Brother!"
The Savior's words warmed Dorn's heart.
That brother of his really had gone to great lengths to prepare these gift-equipments for him.
Very quickly, he suited up in his exclusive Primarch wargear set. He now looked even heavier, even more indestructible.
Like a wall of steel.
After that, Eden somehow produced a thick golden shield radiating an aura of intimidation.
Its surface was covered in sacred patterns.
He handed the golden shield to Dorn, moving him even more deeply.
"This was Father's..." Dorn took the golden shield with trembling hands, almost unable to believe it.
"That's right. A shield made from True-One Alloy.
It's identical to the shield the old Emperor once used. It suits you perfectly."
Eden rapped a knuckle against the shield and explained,
"The old Emperor gave his approval for this too, so you can count it as a gift from him as well.
Use it freely."
That golden shield had indeed been modeled after the Emperor's old equipment and forged from True-One Alloy.
It was incomparably sturdy.
More importantly, inside that True-One shield was mixed quite a bit of the old Emperor's ashes.
That really did count as offering borrowed flowers to Buddha. It was an extremely loyal, sacred, and dutiful piece of equipment.
Naturally, Eden was never going to tell Dorn that. There would be time for that in the future.
Looking at his stubborn-mule brother, he spoke with unusual seriousness.
"From this day forward, Holy Terra will be entrusted to you. Make sure you build even stronger defenses."
Clad in orange-yellow Primarch wargear and carrying a True-One shield in the Emperor's style, Dorn looked like a literal fortress wall.
He felt full of power, deeply reassured.
As though the Emperor, his father, were right there beside him.
Dorn nodded and swore,
"I, Rogal Dorn, the Vigilant One, shall become the strongest wall Terra has ever known!"
At that moment, Dorn felt utterly confident.
He now possessed even more powerful Primarch wargear.
No matter how many enemies attacked Holy Terra, he would hold the line.
He would never fall!
(End of Chapter)
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