[New Fanfic is Up!!]
[Bleach: No System, Just Skill]
"What a tragedy.
"How did loyal warriors of the Imperium become something like this?!"
Vulkan looked at those Terror Warriors tearing down the road, their bodies wreathed in Chaos energy and their light pollution severe enough to hurt the eyes, and ground his teeth.
His current state of mind was almost the same as the Emperor's when looking at Chaos delinquent Primarchs like Fulgrim.
He hated what they had become.
The Terror Warriors drove their explosive vehicles through the Webway with arrogant swagger.
Their vehicles did not merely spew all kinds of light-flames and thick black smoke. They also blasted wicked noise.
Especially when the tail flames of these Space Marine punks swept across the observation deck, and the thick smoke polluted the air, Vulkan's anger burned even hotter.
"Rebellious wretches!"
Vulkan took a deep breath. His fists clenched hard.
"My lord, the Terror Legion is already an important ally of ours.
"They have provided considerable help to the Imperium in resisting Chaos, and they have liberated many worlds…"
Sa'kan hurried to explain.
The Salamanders captain was afraid his gene-father might attack the Terror Warriors and affect the alliance between both sides.
The lunatics of the Terror Legion were not easy to provoke.
Whether Chaos daemons, traitors, or warriors of the Imperium, none of them wanted to get tangled up with those maniacs.
"Allies?"
This time, Vulkan had experience.
He calmed down and began studying the Imperium's latest situation, especially information related to the Terror Legion and humanity's other allies.
After reading the information on the Terror Legion, Vulkan once again fell silent.
He suddenly discovered that the Terror Legion was practically a friend to humanity.
Those Terror Warriors were not only active on the front lines against Chaos daemons, traitors, and xenos, they also took the initiative to rescue humans.
They never harmed innocent humans. On the contrary, they would shield humans from bullets. Wherever Terror Warriors appeared, human lives were protected.
There was not a single record of them actively harming humans.
In certain campaigns, the Terror Warriors had even stopped tactics proposed by Imperial Chapters if those tactics might cause casualties among innocent humans, as if terrified that humans might be hurt.
For example, several decades ago, during the campaign against a Chaos Lord in the Orpheus Sector, the Terror Warriors had rejected a local Chapter's bombardment plan.
They resolutely threw themselves into the most dangerous region and, despite the Chaos Lord's sorcerous attacks, rescued one group of mortals after another while killing every invading daemon and traitor.
The Terror Warriors generally rejected the idea that "life is the Emperor's currency." Instead, they believed that "every human life is as important as blood points!" and "I will not allow any human to die in front of me!"
Of course, what people did not know was that this was mainly because the Hell King had a particular fondness for humans.
If Terror Warriors saw people in danger and did nothing, allowing humans within their known range to die, their blood points would be viciously deducted, and their divine favor would also decline. How was that any different from killing them?
More importantly, rescuing humans also earned blood-point rewards.
For Terror Warriors already burdened with blood-point loans, of course they had to rescue humans like madmen.
The Terror Warriors' demand for blood points was endless. They spent however many they had, and after their divine favor rose, they borrowed however much they could.
They armed themselves to their hearts' content, buying the latest ammunition and accessories to make themselves stronger.
As for those Terror Warriors who could not earn blood points, or whose blood-point loans exploded beyond control, they could only go back and miserably work logistics.
That was the equivalent of becoming the grots of the Terror Legion. No Terror Warrior wanted to fall to such a fate.
The Terror Warriors were so desperate for blood-point loans that they naturally treated humans like their own fathers, afraid that anything might happen to them.
If humans were in danger, they would be the first to deploy. Sometimes they were even faster than the Imperium's Space Marines, afraid they would arrive too late.
"What… loyalty."
After Vulkan finished browsing the Imperium's official records on the Terror Warriors, his voice was slightly hoarse.
Especially when he saw one Terror Warrior suddenly leap off his vehicle and use his body to catch an Imperial worker who had accidentally fallen from a high platform, he had nothing left to say.
The Lord of the Salamanders realized that the Terror Warriors' philosophy of protecting humans coincided with that of the Salamanders, and they might even be doing a better job.
That was true fearlessness.
If one looked only at what the Terror Warriors had done, they were more loyal than most Space Marine Legions, and they cared for humans far more.
After all, Space Marines sometimes cared little for human lives in order to win a war.
That was even more true for Space Marines with emotional defects or madness. Once they lost control, they slaughtered humans as well.
Some Space Marines even actively kept human blood-slaves, using human blood to alleviate the symptoms of their genetic flaws.
The Old Imperium had also used Exterminatus more than a few times, and many of those actions had been carried out by Space Marine forces.
That was the extinction of entire civilized worlds. The humans on those worlds were destroyed along with the enemy.
"Perhaps we need more change. At the very least, we must do better than those who have fallen to Chaos."
Vulkan felt a pang of guilt.
He knew how Space Marines outside the Salamanders had treated humanity over the years.
They had not truly protected all humans. Instead, they had regarded themselves as demigods and angels, setting themselves apart from mortals.
That was how the Horus Heresy had happened. Horus and the other Primarchs, along with the Space Marines, had refused to accept the political system built by the Emperor, and they refused to accept an Imperium ruled by mortals.
They believed the Emperor and humanity had failed them, betrayed the warriors who had truly built the Imperium.
But Vulkan did not think that way. Humanity, especially ordinary mortals, had never failed the Space Marines.
In truth, the Space Marines enjoyed humanity's support. They were armed by the bloody Imperial Tithe contributed by the mortals of one civilized world after another.
And when it came to governing the Imperium, mortals would do a better job than Space Marines.
Of course, that required the Imperium to possess a complete system capable of restraining ambitious men.
"Perhaps they are decent allies…"
Vulkan raised his head and looked out.
He found those blond-punk Terror Warriors much easier to look at now. Even the light pollution and dark death-rock battle hymns no longer seemed quite so detestable.
If the Terror Warriors wanted to ride fixies, then let them. If they wanted to be gaudy and multicolored, that was fine too. As long as they judged Chaos daemons and traitors and protected humanity, they were good allies and good warriors of the Imperium.
The Lord of the Salamanders did not worry too much about a warrior's origin. He cared about what they actually did.
In his eyes, the Imperium's ambitious schemers and rotten bureaucrats were just as evil as Chaos beings.
They might have killed more people than daemons ever had.
"My lord, His Majesty the Savior has already reformed the Imperium's armies. The warriors of every Legion are now restrained and must follow new discipline.
"Now, they work hard to protect humanity just like the Salamanders."
Sa'kan was rather attentive. Sensing his gene-father's emotions, he spoke softly beside him.
The Space Marines of today were no longer as aloof as they had been in the Old Imperium. They had become more approachable.
They integrated more closely with humanity and fought alongside humans.
After a war ended, if the Space Marines had no new mission, they would often remain in the local area and participate in reconstruction work.
Like laborers, they would pour concrete and carry heavy loads, rebuilding homes with their own hands alongside the people.
When Vulkan learned of this, his mood improved considerably.
He gained even more respect for the Savior he had never met. Although the man was somewhat radical in certain matters, overall, he was still a good Emperor of the Imperium.
Perhaps he was the best ruler and Imperial Emperor the Imperium had ever had, powerful yet merciful.
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh—
At that moment, new vehicles suddenly approached the battle barge at high speed, their engines roaring powerfully.
They were a White Scars cavalry squad, all piloting heavy anti-gravity vehicles—the White Hawks.
Judging by their appearance, they were also privately modified models. Their engines were stronger, and their speed was faster.
"Lord Vulkan, by order of the Royal Court, we have brought you important supplies. Please sign for them."
The White Scars captain brought his White Hawk to a hover beside the observation deck, dismounted, and saluted respectfully.
After that, with the help of transport servo-machines, he delivered a large mechanical case to the ground before the Lord of the Salamanders.
This White Scars captain had followed the Royal Court's command and personally delivered the gift prepared by the Savior.
After Dawn City's Royal Court Office received news of Primarch Vulkan's return, it had taken action at once.
They had entrusted the gift to the fastest cavalry squad of the White Scars and ordered them to deliver it as quickly as possible.
Put-put-put!
Suddenly, with a roar and the thunder of engines, a squad of Terror Warriors on fixies blasted past at maximum speed. Exhaust smoke spread everywhere, and the airwave they kicked up even made the parked White Hawks sway slightly.
They were extremely arrogant.
The White Scars captain's expression changed on the spot. He bowed and took his leave.
"My lord, we have delivered the item. Please allow us to depart and continue carrying out the remaining mission."
After that, the White Scars captain jumped onto his anti-gravity vehicle, twisted the throttle, and sped away with the other riders, turning into afterimages.
His voice came back on the wind, and he sounded rather irritated.
"Overtake those damned modders! The White Scars are the fastest cavalry. We will not tolerate provocation!"
The White Scars cavalry hated these Terror Warrior vehicle-modding punks who liked to make noise in the Webway more than anything.
Because of the Webway's special nature, certain routes were too narrow for ships to pass through, so highly mobile transport squads were needed.
Like the Terror Legion, the White Scars Legion also handled part of the express-delivery work, so naturally there was competition between them.
Especially when those deranged Terror Warrior modders raced right in front of them. To increase speed, those maniacs even installed forbidden relics on their vehicles.
Some high-ranking Terror Warriors even left the White Scars riders eating exhaust.
This provoked the White Scars cavalry, and they too began walking the road of no return: illegal modification for the sake of greater vehicle speed.
Fortunately, the Imperium was currently under total mobilization and needed transport capacity. Naturally, the faster the better.
Because of that, the relevant departments had tacitly permitted their illegal modifications.
However, the Imperial Webway Traffic Department was also quietly preparing relevant regulations and measures.
Once this campaign against the Black Tide ended, if those illegally modified vehicles were still so arrogant, their vehicles would be seized outright.
Of course, the premise for all that was that the Traffic Department's enforcers could actually catch them. So they too had begun raising their intensity, illegally modifying their vehicles within the bounds of legality.
Several seconds later, the modified White Hawks of the White Scars cavalry squad, each loaded with shipborne torpedo thrusters, disappeared at the end of the Webway.
Vulkan glanced at them and did not react much.
During this period since his return to the Imperium, he had seen far too many unexpected things. He had long since stopped being surprised.
"Supplies from the Savior?"
Vulkan was somewhat puzzled. He opened the mechanical case on the ground and accepted the item inside.
The contents of the mechanical case were simple.
It was an ordinary-looking forging hammer.
Yet when Vulkan saw that hammer, he was still deeply shocked.
He gently lifted it, and even his voice trembled slightly.
"This is… a hammer made from True-One alloy?!"
He fell in love with the hammer at first sight. What master craftsman would not want a proper forging hammer?
That was the most important tool.
More importantly, this forging hammer was made from True-One alloy.
It was a relic metal possessed only by the Emperor, all of it used to forge armor and weapons.
The other Primarchs had all coveted it terribly, but none had been able to obtain any. There was only so much True-One alloy. They could hardly ask the Emperor to strip off his own armor and melt it down.
Vulkan had once hoped that he might have a forging hammer made of True-One alloy. The hardness of that relic metal would allow the hammer to forge any material.
Unfortunately, it had only been a thought. There had never been any possibility of it happening.
Yet now, that Savior, that Emperor of the Imperium, had given him such a precious gift.
Vulkan gently held the forging hammer and admired its color, weight, and dimensions.
It fit his hand so perfectly. It also carried a special sense of intimacy, containing some kind of sacred aura.
This was simply a forging hammer born to belong to him.
Once Vulkan held the True-One forging hammer, he was unwilling to let it go. He cherished it so much that he wanted to rush to the forge right now and swing it a few times.
Yet he still did not do that. Instead, he carefully read the parchment letter the Savior had written to him.
Of course, this letter had been written long ago.
After Eden realized that the Lord of the Salamanders might return, he had casually prepared a gift for him—
the Emperor's Sacred Ashes Edition True-One Alloy Forging Hammer.
Eden had put great thought into this gift.
In the letter, he also spoke with heartfelt sincerity, describing his philosophy for governing the Imperium and the importance of protecting humanity.
He even believed that the Imperium should not give up on any human life—
every life was worth saving with all one's strength.
After that, Eden began pouring out his hardships in the letter.
He sighed deeply, saying that in the entire Imperium, perhaps only the Lord of the Salamanders, this merciful Primarch who yearned for peace, could understand him.
He was so lonely. He faced too much incomprehension, and he had encountered layer upon layer of obstruction.
It was simply too difficult.
"The Savior's ideals are actually the same as mine. To change all of this, he must have paid an unimaginable price."
When Vulkan read this part, he was deeply moved, and he empathized with the Savior even more.
He could imagine just how much hardship the Savior had endured in order to change the Imperium's long-standing corruption.
In the Lord of the Salamanders' mind, there appeared a scene of the Savior on Terra, arguing his case against the High Lords and high nobles of the Imperium, even risking assassination to push forward reform policies.
He knew how dangerous and troublesome the rotten high-ranking figures and ambitious schemers of the Imperium could be. Even Primarchs had to deal with them carefully.
In the end, all that remained in Vulkan's mind was the Savior's lonely back.
For hundreds of years, that man had stood against the world, advancing with difficulty amid misunderstanding, constantly compromising and constantly struggling, until he finally changed everything.
Everyone knew how much endurance and willpower that required—to reunite a rotten, fragmented Imperium.
The Savior had paid in blood and tears, and everything he had done was for the Imperium, and for the mortals struggling to survive.
Vulkan took a deep breath and gently controlled his trembling hands, then continued reading the parchment letter.
Next, Eden highly affirmed the importance of metallurgical technology to the Imperium.
He said the Emperor had ignored Vulkan's role, and had also ignored Nocturne.
Nocturne and her craftsmen were not most useful for killing on the battlefield, but for forging in the smithy, hammer blow after hammer blow.
Eden declared that Vulkan should not be on the battlefield. He should be before the forge, creating more and better metallurgical technologies and tools for the Imperium, thereby promoting humanity's prosperity.
That was why he had specially forged the best possible forging hammer and given it to this born master craftsman, the greatest of all artisans.
In addition, Eden had also built the most perfect smithy and forge for Vulkan on Nocturne.
Inside the smithy's storerooms were all the precious materials collected from the galaxy and the Warp. Every time a new material was discovered, it would be delivered there at the earliest opportunity.
It was the smithy of every craftsman's dreams.
Eden stated that the New Imperium was willing to invest unconditionally and without limit, creating the best forging environment for Vulkan and the craftsmen of Nocturne.
They would be allowed to fully display their talents, rather than have those talents wasted on war and killing.
At the same time, more forging academies would be established.
In short, the two of them would join hands as brothers and make the Imperium great again.
Plop.
Vulkan's tears fell, dampening the parchment.
This born master craftsman had been forced to suffer in war and slaughter, things he disliked, for far too long.
The Emperor had once warned him sternly—
The Imperium did not need a smith who hammered iron. That was useless.
What the Imperium and humanity needed was a Primarch who could lead a Legion and conquer the stars.
As an Imperial Primarch, he should not waste his time in a smithy. He should immediately lead his Legion out and destroy humanity's enemies in war.
To fulfill his duty, Vulkan had conquered star sector after star sector, staining his hands with the blood of humans, xenos, and heretics.
He did not like it, but he had no choice but to do it. Nightmares had followed him like shadows.
But now, Vulkan had been told by the Savior that he did not need to go to the battlefield anymore. The Imperium needed an outstanding craftsman, not a Primarch conqueror.
He could fully display his true talents.
"I am a craftsman. A born craftsman. The Imperium needs my true talent…"
Vulkan, this black tower of a being, trembled slightly at the shoulders.
No one had expected such a rugged man to cry like this. Tears streamed down his face, but they were tears of happiness.
He had never been this happy before. At last, someone understood him.
The Lord of the Salamanders tightened his grip on the True-One forging hammer gifted to him by the Savior, valuing it even more.
He suddenly realized that this was the first time a brother had ever given him a gift.
"No matter what, I should support Brother Eden!"
Vulkan thought this to himself, and his will became even firmer.
He decided to support the Savior without reservation, standing firmly beside that good brother and working together with him to develop and prosper the Imperium.
If anyone obstructed all of this, if anyone dared harm Brother Eden, they would first have to ask whether his hammer agreed.
Without realizing it, the Lord of the Salamanders had already regarded that Savior he had never met as his closest brother from different parents.
He even felt that they were the best of Primarch brothers, the ones who understood each other most.
(End of Chapter)
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