Chapter 422: Depart for the Rock!
"Hopeless!"
Young Yvraine looked like she was wearing a mask of pain, beginning to doubt the utility of the luxurious etiquette of the ancient Eldar Empire she had been forced to learn by her parents, which even exiled Dark Eldar nobles admired.
To teach her how to kneel?
She squatted on the ground in despair, hugging her knees, looking sourly at the massive fleet cleaning up the battlefield.
The Phoenix Lord looked at this young Eldar who harbored inexplicable expectations for her own race, watching her expression of unwillingness due to disapproval of the Eldar's current status, and couldn't help but smile.
This young Eldar still had a longing for the ancient empire, was dissatisfied with the status quo, and sincerely believed that this decaying race could do more, instead of surviving day by day on the road of racial survival like other ancient compatriots.
Perhaps this was why Ynnead chose her.
The Phoenix Lord shook his head gently. It couldn't be said to be a flaw, but for an Eldar, it was indeed not easy to live to the present with such a mindset.
Actually, if you say how fanatical the Phoenix Lord is, not really.
His armor inherited ancient wisdom. Due to the frequent wars of Biel-Tan, Phoenix Lords changed rapidly. This made his armor contain more understanding different from predecessors than other ancient Craftworlds, including parts facing gods directly.
Even now, many Farseers in the Seer Councils were old people who had survived since before the Fall. They chose restraint during the most depraved period of the Eldar and led like-minded compatriots to escape.
Compared to those compatriots who wished to shoot him when he hesitated about the survival of Biel-Tan, he and the Seer Council at least knew to use their brains before agreeing.
It's hard to say such people would fall into blind fanaticism because of one thing, like Ulthran.
Gods in this universe have needs. Gods often offer tempting conditions in exchange for believers' faith and service, but because of the existence of the warp, these conditions are often chains that can never be broken, dragging you into the cesspool the moment you nod in agreement.
They should believe in gods rationally and deliberately.
However, once you think about it, you will feel it's very tempting.
Legends of the God of Death are widely circulated among the Eldar, and Harlequin troupes touring major Craftworlds do not lack plays in this regard, but many Eldar scoff at it. A few extremists even think this is Slaaneshi corruption, a lie fabricated by the Dark Prince to devour them.
After all, compared to those dark cousins in Commorragh, the power they can provide to the Dark Prince is extremely limited.
Although the Phoenix Lord didn't think Ynnead would be Slaanesh, he also didn't think anything that could ascend to godhood in the current warp would be good, especially a god related to death, so don't talk about rising.
Rescuing Isha from Nurgle's domain, escorting her to the Webway, and asking her to protect some Eldar seemed more reliable than this plan.
Of course, there is a more reliable one now.
The Phoenix Lord looked at Ramesses, who was still paying attention to the warp and occasionally joking with the old Farseer, and shook his head helplessly.
It can only be said that the impact of a few capitalists suddenly appearing among a group of slave owners on the general environment is still too great.
Does this count as the impact of capitalist expansion on various feudal or slave-system groups in the old era?
A thought popped into the head of the Phoenix Lord, who had been studying human history recently.
Although it is difficult to judge which side is more heavyweight in terms of bestiality based on human history, the simple moral values of these four make up for this very well.
He bowed and patted Yvraine's shoulder comfortingly.
Since things have come to this, why not think of a nice title for yourself?
At least it will sound smoother when the gods order them around.
Seeing this, Yvraine couldn't help but sigh deeply:
"Asuryan..."
While this planet was excited by the arrival of the Primarch, a person with dark purposes was watching all this coldly.
Cypher.
He met the Lord of Knights.
This leader remained spotless after experiencing the turbulent flames of war. After leading the Knights of the Round Table to breach the last alley occupying the favorable position for defense, he came to Cypher.
While manipulating the blade that could autonomously control its trajectory, this leader also maximized his own advantages, breaking through enemy formations at the front, dealing with tricky hidden dangers, demonstrating efficiency to the fullest.
Dark Angels should be like this, and should not detach from the focus on war itself due to a series of external factors.
Cypher's gaze flickered over the Lord of Knights' body, seeming to try to find some familiar features.
"Hello, Lord Cypher, let me call you that for now."
Arthur asked: "What do you intend to do here?"
They had always been curious about Cypher's identity. After all, compared to other Fallen, this one's active time covered almost all history since the end of the Heresy.
But now it seems that Cypher is more like a position. As long as one carries the Lion Sword, holds twin pistols, and wears white robes, anyone can be Lord Cypher.
Arthur also scrutinized this Lord. With the Knights of the Round Table beside him, some veterans from the Great Crusade era also found it difficult to judge who this mysterious existence was.
But this was not a problem for the Dark Angels.
"My lord."
Cypher sent back the ceremonial longsword, then bowed respectfully to Arthur.
"I do not intend to question your decision, but facts have proved that your appointment of the Knight Commander still needs consideration."
Not far away, before Arthur arrived, Kay, who volunteered to test Cypher's mettle, was wiping his wound.
The most convenient way for Dark Angels to recognize people is to speak with swords.
Even if time makes faces age and decay, these knights born for war can sniff out familiar scents from sword swings.
"Shut up, you!"
Hearing this, Kay immediately looked up and cursed. This action opened the wound on his neck where the skin had just healed.
"Don't think you can influence His Highness's thoughts like you influenced the Lion. You are not our Seneschal anymore."
Somewhat exasperated, it seemed this advice was very persuasive in Kay's eyes.
And it is hard to imagine that Kay, who looked the most cheerful, was actually the highest-ranking among their small group in the past.
The rank standards of the Dark Angels seem very simple on the surface.
Knight, Knight-Lieutenant, Knight-Captain, Knight-Commander, Knight-Preceptor (Seneschal), corresponding to NCO, squad leader, company captain, grand company captain, and lord of multiple grand companies leading all internal and external affairs respectively.
But due to internal discrimination within the Dark Angels caused by global recruitment—East Terra discriminating against West Terra, Mediterranean discriminating against England, Middle East discriminating against everyone equally—
The internal grading system was actually quite complex and exaggerated. Everyone thought certain affairs were what they should intervene in, and established new departments immediately, never listening to the command system from other cultural circles. Facing various emergencies, most chose to exercise subjective initiative first.
This directly created an environment within the Dark Angels full of eccentric geniuses and unclear responsibilities.
The Emperor did it too!
But fortunately, it was still a rising period. Under the condition of full warehouses of honor, various problems were covered up. Until the Lion returned, he re-sorted out the power and responsibility issues, gathered all power to himself, and then put a big framework on it again. Only then was the Legion's command system truly stabilized.
Zabriel came from Scandinavia, a member of the Host of Bone, one of the founders of the Dreadwing, but his position in the Legion was only a squad leader. Aphkar from Egypt was a company captain, while Kay was a grand company captain corresponding to a current Chapter Master.
As for Galahad, picked up on Vigilus before, he was a Knight-Preceptor, Inner Circle Knight. In the same period, Corswain, who shone in the Great Crusade, held the highest title of Seneschal of the Ninth Order.
"Apologies. By your side, long-lost peace has finally shrouded me again."
After teasing Kay, Cypher bowed again, the shadow of his hood cleverly concealing his face.
"I no longer need to distinguish the truth of the words whispering in my ears."
"You haven't answered my question."
Arthur asked patiently.
The Wardens of Steel were carrying out the final wrap-up of the Gryhne System. The hive city would be destroyed after emergency evacuation. Molten metal would purify this hive city marinated by Nurgle followers.
As for the surviving population of the planet, the accompanying administrative team had activated resettlement regulations. Even without the Webway, small bio-ships were enough to maintain the long-term survival of these people.
"I accepted the Emperor's call. I need to return to the Rock, find the Lion, wake him up, to stop the fusion of the three artifacts."
Cypher kept his hands outside his robes, trying to show his harmlessness, although he knew this was useless in front of a Primarch.
"It should have been me leading the Angels of Vigilance to escape, and then using this to complete the plan, but your appearance changed everything again."
No one expected the Dawnbreakers to connect with the Eldar, and clear the blocked Webway in advance, completing support across most of the galaxy.
This was unexpected for Chaos too. After all, with the Lord of Knights present, Imperial information was no longer unilaterally transparent to Chaos.
"Rare indeed. Rarely not speaking in riddles."
A flyer landed inside a nearby aircraft. Ramesses, having finished dealing with warp hidden dangers, walked up, looking surprised at this famous riddler comparable to Harlequins in the Warhammer universe, flanked by a group of alien attendants.
"The Emperor's voice has become clear. I no longer need to identify which are correct and which are wrong from a mass of contradictory information."
Cypher replied respectfully:
"Greetings to you, Radiant Lord."
"Hello."
Ramesses waved his hand, appearing very casual.
"So you always used those ambiguous answers to prove you were right? To, um—"
He asked, then thought: "To let everyone hear what they want to hear, and give yourself some kind of security that you are 'doing the right thing'."
"Yes."
Cypher nodded without hesitation.
In the past, the Emperor's voice was so complex, contradictory tones mixed together, once even urging him to go to the Palace to rescue the Emperor from the Golden Throne, making him spend a lot of time enduring pain and thinking.
This made him appear gloomy, cold, and reticent to outsiders.
The 'Fallen Angel', who was reminiscing with old comrades, stroking the other's armor personally engraved with marks of honor by the Lord of Knights while recounting his suffering over the years, having rolled in the gap between Chaos and reality with Cypher many times, immediately cast a death stare.
"And now?"
Arthur asked.
"I still request you to take me to the Rock."
Cypher replied: "Only I can confirm the Lion's specific location."
"Or rather, only this sword can re-establish contact with him."
Ramesses looked at the broken sword on Cypher's back with interest, and couldn't help but say: "I finally know why Azrael and the others can't find where the Lion is, not even the Master of the Rock can find him."
Arthur signaled his partner to continue.
"The Lion should be jumping aimlessly in the galaxy through his warp domain now, so it's hard to find him in realspace. The Lion Sword itself can serve as a medium. Of course, any Dark Angel can in necessary situations, but the cost is high."
Ramesses thought for a while, didn't say it was impossible, considering the authenticity of the other party's words acknowledged.
"Then what after finding the Lion? What do you plan to do?"
Cypher met Arthur's eyes hidden under the shadow.
He knew what the one before him represented. Any hidden danger that might cause the destruction of unity between them must be eliminated.
"You want to kill him?"
Arthur used a little effort to stabilize his expression.
What on earth did the Lion do in the past? Although his motivation to be Warmaster during the Heresy was abstract, even the famous scene of punching off a head was considered manslaughter, right?
Or was that accident actually the last straw that crushed the Dark Angels?
No, bro?
Even the Dark Angels among the Knights of the Round Table who had grudges against the Lion couldn't help but show horrified expressions.
So decisive, so ruthless.
Which master is this?
"I think the Lion doesn't deserve death yet."
Arthur replied. This inadvertent dry humor made the surrounding warriors stiffen their expressions.
After speaking, he raised his hand to stop Cypher who wanted to speak.
Listening carefully.
The roar of war machine engines began to fade. The agile bodies of Stormtalons and Valkyries soaring in the sky were gradually replaced by the heavy shadows of large transport aircraft.
The cleanup was complete.
"Remaining affairs will be discussed after returning to the fleet. I will confirm the next course of action in the Round Table Council."
Arthur began to command the troops to regroup and head to their strategic objective. This planet would be handed over to Romulus for management.
"You are qualified to audit, and your subordinates are also qualified to decide whether to stay or go."
Racing against time, clear and logical.
Cypher was stunned, then nodded immediately.
"Good."
"Hello!"
Hive Gryhne Surface
A winged, black-haired Sororitas in gold armor avoided most people's sight, finally stopping a patrol squad at a checkpoint.
"Hello."
The sergeant nodded, his gaze lingering on the wings on her back for a while. Superiors had notified of the manifestation of this Living Saint who had fought in various parts of the Imperium and requested reporting to superiors immediately upon discovering her traces.
Within kilometers around him, multiple fire platforms locked on, not firing immediately.
"Have you seen a Primarch? Any one will do."
Celestine looked around.
The dense enemies that filled her vision before dying had disappeared. Her location seemed to be a landing zone. A steady stream of civilians and wounded were sent to transport aircraft. In the distant ruins, rescue teams in bright work clothes were conducting humanitarian rescue on various ruins.
Soldiers wearing power exoskeletons and holding ancient pattern weapons protected their safety.
A posture of post-war cleaning.
Celestine was very surprised by such a scene. Perhaps having seen too many ruins completely wrapped in death, or battlefields shrouded in endless war, the scene before her seemed novel.
"I need to see them."
The Sister's tone was gentle. The transcendent posture did not give her the arrogance to despise everything. The humility revealing a heartfelt service to humanity, detached from base desires, reminded the sergeant of Director Arabella on Dawnstar.
"They have left."
The sergeant replied calmly.
"Huh?"
Celestine's expression changed slightly, surprised that the protagonists of the war ran off their set so easily.
"Left?"
"Do you need me to contact superiors to arrange a meeting for you?"
"No, no need."
Celestine shook her head. She just needed to die once to descend again via the warp. No need to hitch a ride; after all, Imperial believers were everywhere, faith power was strong, no need for such trouble.
"Then please register. I need to report to superiors."
The sergeant clamped his gun under his arm, finding a terminal and matching paper documents.
"Duty calls, please understand."
"Eh?"
Celestine, who used to be chased by fanatical Imperial citizens to kowtow, or excommunicated by the Ecclesiarchy, or executed by Inquisitors as a warp daemon, was stunned.
"Trouble you."
The paper, pen, and terminal shook together.
"Oh."
Celestine reached out to take them.
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