This is our Warhammer journey

Chapter 439 You don't understand the value of the Wings of Dawn, you don't understand (4.8k)

He has died many, many times.

countless times.

Time and again he felt his heart stop beating, listening to the echoes of duty and the violent throbbing of his heart, forcing him to stand up again, which almost made him scream if he could still manage to breathe.

That's how I felt during that time—being in the void, a feeling that stretched longer than eternity.

Perhaps even longer.

Perhaps even today, a part of him is still there, dying, reborn, and then dying again.

Sometimes he couldn't distinguish between responsibility and torment; they merged into one, becoming a continuous stream of suffering.

Now, in a sense, it's over.

He became the person he once knew again; he could once again take up arms, go far away, and kill for his leader; he could obey orders and give commands.

He is a knight, just as he did when he roamed the galaxy in his youth, fighting for the future of humanity. He is the Legion's finest swordsman, the holder of the Champion's Cloak, and one of only two Dark Angels to defeat Arachios, a legend alongside figures like Radoron and Sigismund.

“If anything happens to the Lord of Knights, then you will die.”

As Redros listened to his old brother's words and looked into those eyes that seemed to have aged hundreds of years in the few minutes since they parted, a look of horror appeared on his face, which had been filled with resentment.

At first, he couldn't believe it.

Then came the reflection.

Redros began to recall all this strangeness. He couldn't understand why these brothers, who were absolutely loyal to the Lion, were completely changed the moment they participated in the landing, as if countless years had been forcibly imposed into their memories at a certain moment.

What kind of witchcraft is this? Why were nearly a quarter of the legion's members brainwashed into a unified force in an instant? And what about those strangers who are fanatically pursuing their new master? Why did even Koswayne enter this state?

Even Coswayne has betrayed us.

He took a deep breath, then exhaled, and Redros suddenly stood up, only to be pulled back down by the magnetic lock.

This feeling of almost complete isolation left Redros, who had always been loyal to one person, feeling confused.

“You don’t need to come to us in person, Lord Cypher.”

Inner Ring Knight Galad looked at the young man before him and muttered a sarcastic remark.

Compared to these unfortunate fellows, Coswayne seemed to have sunk even deeper in the past, so much so that he became even more fervent when a hand pulled him out of the mire.

This made him seem too unstable. Galad didn't think the other party posed any threat to His Highness himself, but he was afraid it would cause considerable trouble for His Highness's plans.

"Isn't Lord Cypher still on the surface of the planet?"

Koswayne feigned confusion, intimidating the loyal members of the Lion King with his cold and unnatural threats.

There's no Lord Cypher here, isn't that Zahariel, the rebel who now lives on the planet's surface?

"And I hope so, and you hope so too."

He then responded by telling his colleagues that he remained rational and would not resort to more extreme measures unless absolutely necessary.

"Humph."

Seeing the self-righteous expression on Coswayne's rosy face, Galad snorted.

This is considered quite outspoken among Dark Angels.

Beside him, his adjutant Langsheer, who had already docked with the vast majority of the fleet, nodded to his knight governor.

Galad then reached out and decisively connected the communication systems of the current loyalists and the futurists to the Grand Fleet.

Remaining silent, Koswayne scanned the crowd and gave a slight smirk.

These people, including the Dark Angel who was loyal to the Knight Lord, did not know the importance of the Dawn Wings. Perhaps it was because the adults were so kind that these people, who had long lacked emotional input, subconsciously chose to get close to them, thinking that they were all leaders worthy of their loyalty, and then stopped thinking too much about it.

They overlooked too many things.

Having spent many years adrift in the warp, he knew very well what the warp was, what the Emperor had become over the long years, the current state of the Empire, and the almost inevitable dark future.

Until the appearance of the Wings of Dawn.

He had been observing in the shadows for a long time, analyzing the emperor's contradictory orders and enduring the torment of countless thoughts churning in his mind, until he finally realized their importance after Peturabo's death.

Irreplaceable.

Completely irreplaceable.

Humans were overjoyed at their arrival, and their enthusiasm for the Empire could not be dampened by any unexpected events.

This exceptionally good temper, which seems to have been cultivated from some unknown environment, is absolutely a sign of the cruel galaxy's pity for every human being. Even if such an existence is as mad as Angron, they must keep it in check, just like the platoon leaders of the War Dogs who have died one after another, and absolutely cannot let it side with the Chaos.

If an exchange is absolutely necessary, then everything except the Wings of Dawn themselves can be given up, even other Primarchs, or even the Empire.

That's why Koswayne subconsciously felt dissatisfied with any action that might affect the Lord of Knights.

The Dark Angels' members, still preoccupied with pointless questions like "Your Highness loves me, and I love Your Highness," and the Lion King, whose thinking remains immature, are troublesome individuals who could wear down the Knight Lord's patience at any moment.

He even devised a plan to wipe out the entire Dark Angels, including the Lion King, once and for all, so that His Highness could lead the true Dark Angels who were educated by him and grew up under the protection of the Wings of Dawn.

"We won't sit here for long."

Coswayne took a deep breath, roused himself, and then said, "Tell me what you need me to do."

With a humble attitude, Galad, who was adjusting the fleet's posture, looked up with slight surprise.

There weren't many 'fallen angels' who came with Kouswayne. Lord Ramses had locked onto their souls, which meant that the spells of the Formless Lord could burn them to death at any time. This was also the reason why Kouswayne was able to pass through the rift.

After a brief hesitation, Galad explained his responsibilities: an overwhelming information offensive, assisting in pacifying the affected areas, reducing the intensity of resistance, and then making their enemies—either losers or some other random bunch of people—pay the price.

He spoke quickly and succinctly, providing only the information an executor wanted to know.

"Finally, we must ensure that the fleet operates under a unified will, transform the warships in this timeline into His Highness's weapons, end any potential chaotic conspiracies, and then simply find a way back."

hum~
After a brief buzz, communications, which had returned to normal operation as the orbital bombardment ceased, received the complete message.

It was a series of images: a lion and a knight lord fighting, along with their voices.

When a screen flashed, the unedited dialogue spread throughout the entire bridge.

"What exactly are you afraid of—"

The communications convey Arthur's questioning of Lane about everything he did during the Great Rebellion and his impulsive decisions toward Caliban.

Playing in public.

As the Queen of Glory, second only to the Emperor's ship, the Unyielding Truth is itself a super signal repeater. Apart from chaos magic, Caliban's surface cannot prevent the arrival of these sounds and images.

Red Rose was furious.

For him, this was undoubtedly the cruelest form of execution.

Because the lion actually did it.

Ignoring the struggles of the lion's sons, Galad slightly adjusted the broadcast, including the message that the loyalists needed most.

"If the Caliban war involves not only vicious and cunning individuals, but also innocent people, then you have failed your descendants in a chance to prove their stance to you."

"."

This is more effective than any accusation against either Luther or the Lions.

Almost instantly, many people's resistance to the automated machine soldiers decreased to an exaggerated degree.

When a person realizes that bedwetting won't kill them and that they just need to clean up the sheets, they won't try to burn the house down.

Redross looked desperate.

He knew he was doomed.

Because of this one sentence, all the Dark Angels attacked by the Lion will turn to the unfamiliar Primarch who is fighting the Lion.

Especially now that the lion is already teetering on the brink of collapse.

"What a blessing."

Koswayne said this out of the blue.

Before anyone else could speak, he continued.

"I will return to Caliban, and the fleet will be under your full command."

Stroking the somewhat unfamiliar blade in his hand, Coswayne explained, “Zaharil is deeply corrupted by the Ouroboros, and the future Ouroboros is also infected by the plague. I need to keep an eye on it. The pollution of Chaos is everywhere. Humans today do not have the protection of an emperor. I need to prevent any accidents—and you.”

He then looked at Redros, sneered, and then said to Galard:
“I remember your oath: here, no matter the cost, you must lead your fleet to destroy any possible conspiracy.”

“I don’t need you to remind me,” Galad replied.

Times have changed.

He knows what he should do.

Therefore, he knew what he should do.

Aldruk, the fortress of the Knights of the North Star, Azrael paced slowly down the corridor, his heavy armor making a crisp sound as he stepped on the metal floor.

Alarms were everywhere, echoing along the labyrinthine passageways of the North Star Knights' fortress. A few lumens that had survived the orbital strikes that bombarded the northern residential area of ​​Aldruk were flickering.

Belial walked alongside him, followed by his Deathwing brothers. Their steps were steady, their bone-white and black armor gleaming in the flickering lights.

Since His Highness clashed with the lion, Azrael has accomplished hundreds of things.

He issued direct orders to the commanders of each unit, planned the deployment of the legion, controlled the key passes and roads leading to the city center, selected the legion's combat brothers to lead each communication operation in the combat zone, assessed each potential threat and placed soldiers who could resolve those threats.

He has been doing these things ever since he joined this effort to correct mistakes and save more people.

He has always been good at these things and doesn't need to report to anyone, not even his prince.

He was in full charge.

Boom!

Azrael departed from the outside of the Knights of Polaris fortress in a Draco transport vehicle, roaring as it drove out of the underground garage, through the unfolding adamantite gate, and into the tunnel leading to the fortress area.

After leaving the fortress's intricate anti-aircraft zone, we climbed to the main supply route extending westward. This route was mostly underground, seemingly because the city had anticipated a possible attack from space. Many such roads crisscrossed Aldruk's underground, heavily protected from artillery fire.

This allowed Azrael to bypass some of the congested traffic areas.

The civilians and soldiers injured in the bombing have been rescued along with the simultaneous input from the Star Guardians and transported to the support base built in the air defense zone of Polaris Fortress.

These tragically fated mortals were mostly bewildered, unaware of what had happened. They only knew that the war had started and ended inexplicably, and that the demigods, clad in identical armor, had shown them three different faces within an hour.

Fortunately, the artillery fire overhead had stopped, and they were spared the shock of the earth shaking and the fear brought by the sound of the enemy's marching troops.

Right now, the sense of security brought by the delicious food has made them put down their guns, chewing numbly, and beginning to recall who died and who is still alive.

trouble.

Recalling the image of the lion, Azrael subconsciously frowned.

What a hassle.

This is not because he looks down on mortals. He has always been a follower of His Highness's will. He has always known about that great vision and that both Astartes and mortals are indispensable in it.

He found the Dark Angel troublesome.

Anything related to the Dark Angels is always fraught with trouble.

Unlike the widespread ignorance and limited understanding and education throughout the Empire, each of the Dark Angels' questions seemed more like a neurotic tantrum.

Azrael's mind raced through a string of names—the dark angels he was about to meet.

In the eastern part of the sealed-off Castle of Angels, they have designated an absolute peace zone where representatives from all sides will exchange ideas and weave the truth, under the guidance of their Supreme Master.

At times like these, Azrael couldn't help but admire His Highness's temper.

He didn't know how His Highness could tolerate this group of people.

He lowered his eyes slightly.

"what happened?"

As a former friend who nearly killed Azrael in a duel, Belial noticed Azrael's emotional fluctuations almost immediately.

"Some negative thoughts."

Azrael looked up and saw the troop carrier stop amidst a rumble.

"I hate them."

The High Master confided to his companions, “They are troublesome and are constantly wearing down my patience.”

"You're making it sound like I don't dislike it."

Beria shrugged and muttered under his breath, "I even hate my past self. I feel like I was a Chihuahua that was always on edge."

Chihuahuas, pets that have been passed down from ancient human culture to the present day, have an unknown origin. They are small in size and have extremely high intracranial pressure, which makes them always on the verge of stress, and their attitude towards any threat is to bite.

Many imperial nobles were quite fond of these exotic pets.

"You are self-aware."

Azrael couldn't help but laugh at his friend's apt analogy.

"He made me realize that I should have the quality of self-awareness."

Beria said with heartfelt gratitude, "I also thank you for giving me a chance to change things. I can see that our legion has already become different."

"Yes, thank you, Your Highness."

Azrael led his guard as they marched forward.

We should definitely give them a chance.

Before the last sealed door at the entrance to the inner fortress, Azrael saw a stranger waiting for him.

"."

Just as Azrael signaled his followers to stop, the leader performed an ancient Caliban salute. The man wore a hood, his entire face shrouded in shadow, revealing only a portion of his disheveled hair stained with dirt, highlighting his unkempt appearance. His shoulder armor was clearly engraved with a winged sword emblem.

"The Supreme Teacher has arrived."

Belial hissed, drawing his sword and pointing it at the other man's neck, clearly unwilling to allow the Supreme Grand Master's authority to be challenged.

"Step aside."

"Feel sorry."

The man bowed in apology, but then went straight to Azrael.

“I have been looking for you, Highest Teacher. I have advice to offer, and I only hope to delay you for a little while.”

He turned his body slightly to the side, revealing a rotten heavy sword.

Azrael glanced at it and immediately felt a chill run through his body.

"trouble."

"Solve these problems"

"Trouble. They are all like that."

He was almost certain that the instant their eyes met, he could hear a sound coming from inside, like a faint whisper.

The sound was hazy, unusually jarring, and caused great anxiety.

"Your Highness."

"You're the only one left."

"The best version of you—"

"hehe."

Azrael smiled.

He casually drew his old sword from its scabbard and gripped the hilt.

"Well, you're lucky. It suits my taste perfectly. Please give my thanks to your master and tell him that this sword is just what I'm feeling right now."

"I will."

The other person nodded, and then asked another question.

"What are your feelings, Supreme Master?"

Azrael stared at him, staring into those filthy eyes in the shadows.

He roared fiercely.

"I am going to kill you!"

　P.S.: Sorry, I didn't get home until 9 PM, it's late.
　　
　
(End of this chapter)