Racoon? Primarch?
Reyna's expression became quite strange as she listened to Greyfax's words.
This familiar scent, this familiar style, this act of blasphemy that deserved to be burned on a white phosphorus pyre from the Great Crusade era until the Fall of Cadia—
Even with her not-so-clever mind, Reyna knew this had to be Alexander.
Alexander! He was on this planet, and he had been watching the Expeditionary Force the whole time!
Since when? Since the Expeditionary Force first stepped onto this planet? Or even earlier?
How did he know the Expeditionary Force's movements? Some kind of strange tool?
Did he know Archmagos Belisarius Cawl's purpose?
Why did he only help the Expeditionary Force from the shadows? Was he planning to ambush Abaddon from the dark?
A series of thoughts popped into Reyna's mind, but none of these questions could be answered.
Not only Reyna, but Archmagos Belisarius Cawl, who was beside Reyna, also seemed to be in a temporary state of shock.
Until Saint Celestine slowly spoke: "The Omnissiah is helping us."
"The Omnissiah again?" Greyfax's voice sharpened slightly: "Then why did he impersonate Primarch Robert Guilliman?"
"What connection does Robert Guilliman have with us or the Omnissiah?"
"I rather think that was some blasphemous sorcerer cooperating with you—"
"No!"
Belisarius Cawl's voice suddenly rang out, cold and low,
But everyone present heard the anger in it, directed at Greyfax.
He seemed to believe that Greyfax's words had insulted the Omnissiah.
"Archmagos—"
Before Greyfax could finish her sentence, Archmagos Belisarius Cawl took a step forward, his massive body almost completely obscuring Greyfax.
A slender mechanical tentacle suddenly extended from his complex mechanical body, its tip a sharp needle.
"I will read your memories, to see with my own eyes whether it was an abomination or the Omnissiah."
Greyfax lowered her head almost without hesitation, silently agreeing to Archmagos Belisarius Cawl's demand.
The sharp needle at the end of Belisarius Cawl's mechanical tentacle pierced into Greyfax's nape, and Greyfax didn't even let out a grunt.
Points of data continuously flickered in the Archmagos' mechanical eyes.
The expression on his remaining half-face constantly changed.
First suspicion, then seriousness, then surprise, and finally, piety.
"Undoubtedly, the will of the Omnissiah was within it."
Belisarius Cawl said solemnly:
"However, based on this memory alone, I cannot make a more specific judgment."
Greyfax clenched her jaw slightly.
"Archmagos—"
"Inquisitor."
Greyfax was interrupted by Belisarius Cawl again before she could speak:
"Are you questioning my judgment?"
"Do you believe that I—Lord of the Forge and servant of the Omnissiah—cannot discern the radiance of the Omnissiah?"
"Inquisitor, I served the Omnissiah as an apprentice before the first Inquisitor was even born."
"My soul was once merged with Azekael Sandani, the designer of the Astartes' black carapace."
"I have conversed in memory with the Omnissiah whom you call the Emperor, and accepted the holy work he bestowed."
"I have personally witnessed the figures of Robert Guilliman, Rogal Dorn, Jaghatai Khan, and several other Primarchs, and forged weapons for them."
"And you, an Inquisitor whose body is controlled by xenos nanomachines, dare to question my judgment?"
Greyfax was speechless.
As an Inquisitor, her authority was theoretically limitless within the Imperium.
But theory was ultimately just theory; there were still a very small number of individuals whose authority an Inquisitor could not override.
Archmagos Belisarius Cawl happened to be one of them.
As he said, he had been serving the Omnissiah, serving the Emperor, before the first Inquisitor was born.
Even Greyfax could not forcefully override him with her Inquisitorial authority.
Moreover, if she did so, the Expeditionary Force would undoubtedly split.
"Did you not see it?"
Belisarius Cawl's tone softened slightly, as if he were teaching a foolish child:
"Would a normal Dreadnought have such speed? That was undoubtedly the authority of original power; he granted powerful motive force to the power armor and weapons of those twenty-two warriors!"
"There was no Warp presence within it, only pure, material, real-universe power."
Greyfax was speechless.
She knew that what Belisarius Cawl said was true, and she also hadn't detected the presence of Warp energy in that memory.
But some corruption always hid very deep, and this memory might not have been unaltered...
But Greyfax understood that she could only temporarily yield to Archmagos Belisarius Cawl's decision.
"So, what do we do next—"
"Advance, of course, continue to advance."
For the third time, Greyfax was interrupted by Belisarius Cawl before she could finish speaking:
"The will of the Omnissiah has removed an obstacle for us, how can we stop now?"
A faint light flickered in Belisarius Cawl's mechanical eyes.
His tone was filled with the longing of a pilgrim.
Greyfax's face twisted slightly, but she still said as calmly as possible: "We cannot continue to advance rashly."
"The Black Legion already knows our position; blindly pushing forward will only lead us into an encirclement, caught between two fronts."
"This fortress is good; although it's xenos, it's sturdy enough to hold back the pursuers behind us."
"She is right." Saint Celestine spoke softly, agreeing with Greyfax's suggestion.
Greyfax was somewhat surprised that Saint Celestine would support her.
"We need someone to stay here," Saint Celestine continued.
Greyfax nodded in agreement.
"..I will." Captain Karlaen, who had been silent all this time, spoke up.
He held Baal's Wrath, a sacred relic of the Blood Angels, and was closely followed by over forty Blood Angels Terminators.
Everyone knew that staying here offered no hope.
Under the Black Legion's overwhelming numerical superiority, over forty Blood Angels could not hold out indefinitely.
But no one objected, because everyone in the Expeditionary Force knew that they had to have someone guard this fortress.
Otherwise, with the pursuers from behind and the Black Legion landing in front of them, the Expeditionary Force would be caught in a pincer attack.
The warriors of the Expeditionary Force, excluding Blood Angels Captain Karlaen, took a short rest, then set off into the vast snow sea, following Saint Celestine.
Karlaen watched their retreating figures disappear into the wind and snow.
He gripped Baal's Wrath tightly in his hand, a snowflake slowly falling on his face, then melting in the heat rising from his Terminator power armor.
Snow.
Karlaen looked up at the sky.
When Karlaen was a boy, snowflakes were just a legend.
In the sky of Baal, let alone snow, even clouds were rarely seen.
He still remembered his excitement as a new recruit, seeing snow for the first time on another planet.
Boundless, white covering the entire world, as if extending to the end of the world, making one forget that they were in a universe.
But after two hundred years of service, Karlaen had grown weary of these beautiful sights, and instead began to long for the sky of Baal.
That faintly orange-yellow sky, the two moons of Baal II and Baal Prime, dimly visible, and when night fell, the stars would twinkle around them.
Karlaen even remembered that on a certain night, Chapter Master Dante had gazed at the starry sky in a daze, then suddenly pointed at the stars with his hand, reciting the names of each star, just like the knowledgeable elders in the tribes of Baal.
He wondered what the sky of Baal was like now, whether it was obscured by the Tyranids or as it always was?
Was the Chapter Master still enduring a thousand years of battle?
Had Corbulo found a way to cure the Bloodthirst and the Black Rage?
Was Lord Mephiston still as grim as death?
If not for his mission, Karlaen would have preferred to die fighting in the sands of Baal, letting his remains be buried in the scorching grit.
Karlaen's thoughts were in turmoil, yet at that moment, black dots appeared in the sky, densely packed like flies.
Chaos Raptors!
Black Legion units equipped with jump packs.
Karlaen's bionic right eye quickly identified the enemies falling from the sky; clearly, the Black Legion had chosen an aerial assault against the difficult-to-attack Eldar fortress.
After all, the fortress' anti-air defenses had been rendered inoperable during the ten millennia of its long history and the shock of the Dark Prince's birth.
"Blood Angels, prepare yourselves."
Captain Karlaen gripped the storm bolter in his hand and said to the forty-plus Blood Angels First Company Astartes Terminator warriors behind him.
"Good." A voice as clear as the morning light of Baal sounded behind Karlaen, and Karlaen's soul inexplicably trembled.
That voice was definitely not one of the forty-plus Terminator warriors accompanying him.
Karlaen was just about to turn his head to look behind him, but at that moment, blood-red figures suddenly appeared in the sea of snow.
These figures, sporting strange small propellers, flew straight into the sky, ignoring the wind and snow, their initial speed even faster than jump packs.
What bewildered Karlaen the most was that he saw a black-painted Dreadnought, with a pale yellow propeller on its sarcophagus lid, flying into the sky in a way that defied the laws of physics, engaging in combat with the Chaos Raptors in the air.
"Bat brats! Look at Kaso! And then get down from the sky!"
"Think carefully whose Primarch has wings! The sky is Sanguinius' territory!"
Karlaen stared blankly at the Death Company Dreadnought, which was rapidly harvesting Chaos Raptors in the sky.
It was the Death Company Dreadnought "Kaso the Accursed."
Am I experiencing the Black Rage?! Sanguinius above! A damn Dreadnought is flying in the sky!
Karlaen turned his head in bewilderment, looking at the source of the voice.
He saw a man wearing a baseball cap with a white pocket on his stomach.
Karlaen quickly realized that this was the Leman Russ, or rather Alexander, whom he had met in Ashford.
Alexander smiled slightly, gesturing for Karlaen to look beside him.
Standing beside Alexander was a tall figure cloaked in a linen robe, his face hidden by a hood.
That figure slowly raised his head, his face briefly revealed in the wind and snow.
Karlaen's soul was struck, a great sense of emotion and power bursting forth from the blood of Sanguinius within him.