Warhammer 40: My Fiancée Fulgrim.

Chapter 11: The play ends, but the story continues.

"A bomb, a thermal meltdown?!"

Herold looked around. His first thought was no longer why Raul was able to get the bomb, or why it suddenly ended up in his hands at this time.

These minor details are insignificant.

All he wants now is to see the damned Casca reduced to nothingness!
And this bomb is the only way to take them down with it!

"it is good!"

His eyes were sinister and lewd, and his plans were reckless and malicious.

A purple glow flickered, and Herod's eyes were filled with the madness fueled by jealousy.

At this moment, everyone's attention was focused on the stage, and no one cared about the filth they had just committed.

Perfect timing!

Pushing through the crowd, Herold charged forward; reaching the front of the stage, he instantly pulled out the lever in his hand!
"Varied--"

In that very instant, while basking in the envy of everyone, Fugrim realized that Herod was making a last-ditch effort.

She wanted to stop it.

Unfortunately, it was too late to fix the problem.

Even though she was not afraid, there was no way she could escape from the workers and Casca beside her.

In the critical moment, she used all her speed, turned her back to the explosives, and embraced Casca beside her.

The once noisy world fell silent at this moment.

Bang.

The explosion resounded in the center of the square, which was packed with people.

The bomb exploded as expected.

At such close range, even with the Primarch's protection, Casgar could not escape his inevitable death.

Will it?

Will this soon-to-be-married couple, before they can even take flight, be separated again?
Will Fugrim be left only atop the Tower of Chemos, feasting on eternal solitude?
Will it happen again?
Only the deepest and most painful tragedies can leave a lasting impression and be etched in one's memory.

--Do not!

The story will not end so hastily!
Although the bomb had detonated, apart from a few gasps behind her, she did not feel the expected shockwave.

Could it be that——?
Looking back, there was no explosion at all.
The cannons roared and colorful ribbons sprayed everywhere!
Colorful ribbons fluttered down, adorning their formal attire.

Countless shimmering ribbons, along with the excitement of surviving the ordeal, instantly filled the upper level of the fortress.

"This is impossible!"

And there was Herod, standing there blankly in the middle of the field, watching the fireworks bloom in his hands.

"Hahahahahaha!"

After a moment of silence, people burst into laughter, mocking the dejected clown.

It turns out that all of this was a scheme by Fugrim and Kasgar!
Let this despicable and selfish nobleman add to the symphony with his salute!
It's not just killing someone, it destroys their spirit; what humiliation could be more profound and piercing to the bone?

Looking at the two people tightly embracing in the arena, and the ashen-faced destroyer, the crowd erupted in thunderous cheers once again!
"it is good!"

"Under the leadership of Fugrim and Kasgar, we will all be redeemed!"

But when no one was paying attention, Raul, who had been standing next to Herold, vanished without a trace.

"Um!"

Kasgar struggled to break free from the chest of the still-dazed Fugrim.

If he hadn't died in the explosion but had suffocated here, it would have been an absurd and hilarious spectacle.

Is this your plan?

"Use a fake bomb to lure Herold, then let his revenge turn into a joke, making his vengeance a clown's act?"

"Forgrim asked incredulously."

Even in her self-proclaimed perfect plan, she never imagined that such a twist could be added as a grand finale to push the atmosphere to a climax.

It seems that Casca has brought far more surprises than she imagined.

"I do not know."

Casca was equally confused.

He never had the ability to deceive anyone, let alone, make a perfect replica of a cannon with molten metal explosives when resources were scarce.

At that moment, all he could feel was a foreign object in his hand.

—It was a crumpled clown mask, which had somehow appeared in his hand.

Above that was a line of elegant small characters, written lightly and artistically:
My brother, my friend, please remember: only laughter can quench the thirst of lust.

The revelry lasted a long time.

The laughing crowd experienced the colors of the world for the first time.

Scrolls from noble homes, songs from ancient legends, and a dazzling array of flowers from the upper echelons of society.

Amidst the continuous gasps of amazement from the crowd, they flew into the eyes of ordinary people.

Like a bird that has been imprisoned for many days finally breaking free from its cage, everyone laughed and rejoiced, completely carefree.

The Chemos people have endured for far too long in order to survive.

After the trial of Herod and the others was completed, they sat around in front of the square, asking Fugrim to explain the meaning of the marriage proposal they had just witnessed.

Yes, love. That was love.

But what is love?
Before, where did these people have the time to care about or cherish others?

Looking at the puzzled crowd, Fugrim raised his left hand as if he had been waiting for this question for a long time.

More accurately, it was the centaur gold ring on his left hand.

"That's right, it's the Sagittarius gold ring."

"When we first met, he was still a member of the Sherlock family."

"Sister! Please, please don't—"

"Sorry, Casca is a little shy, he's so cute. Where were we?"

Fugrim chuckled, his tone brimming with smugness.

"Oh right, he looked at me and solemnly said, 'Wherever you go, I will be by your side.'"

So this is the Centaur gold ring, and this is the meaning of love.

After listening to Fugrim's vivid account, everyone looked at each other in bewilderment.

It's a truly magnificent and romantic story.

In their minds, the meaning of the centaur gold ring has changed significantly.

It turns out that love still exists in this world. What about us?

Can we be the same as them?

After hearing Fugrim's story, many impatient fellows exchanged "centaur rings" made of grass or screws.

Some succeeded, and some failed.

The successful ones excitedly raise their heads, as if to announce their happiness to the world; while the unsuccessful ones can only shake their heads with a wry smile and leave with regret.

Laughter, anger, and curses can all become literature.

Whether you succeed or not, it's better than being numb and not knowing why you're alive.

For the first time, they learned about the starry sky and themselves beneath it.

For the first time, they felt like they were living in the world.

The Chemos people still have a lot to learn.

Fortunately, they still have time to gradually reshape the world.

The party ended, and everyone went home.

Soon after, the Kalashan Fortress will redistribute housing to ensure that every Kalashan will have their own place to live in the future.

A bright future awaits everyone.

As for now, Fugrim's hand remained firmly gripping Kasgar, refusing to let go for even a moment.

Although the bomb did not explode, she still seemed to feel a lingering fear in her heart.

"Casca."

Seeing that there was no one else in the square, she turned around and whispered in the other person's ear.

"what happened?"

"praise me."

Again.

But there's nothing that can be done; that's just Forgrim's personality.

A genetic prototype that is always striving for perfection and always yearning for recognition.

Even if it were just a small fortress like Carax, she would demand its complete and heartfelt submission, love, and respect for her, the flawless monarch.

If the operation to liberate Carax cannot be done to its best, then it is still not perfect.

This was the greatest highlight of the Fugrim and the Third Legion, and also the main reason for their future decline.

"Everyone is praising this perfect performance today, so I probably don't need to say anything more."

"Yes, but I only want to listen to you."

"I was so scared when the bomb was about to explode."

Casca felt her nuzzle against his shoulder.

"Please, please."

"Praise me."

Kasga could only look helplessly at the soft, yielding woman leaning against him.

damn it.

How can this woman be so adorable?
"Ah! Great Fugrim!"

"Your performances are unforgettable, and your works are exquisitely crafted; even the most learned playwrights could not write with such brilliance."

"Ah."

She snorted softly.

"Your wisdom and insight are unparalleled, and your swordsmanship is superb; under your leadership, the Chemos people will never fall into the same old ways."

"Yes, praise me more."

Baby, you are a baby who is very good at performing opera, has a very meticulous mind, is very humane, and has a very strong fighting spirit.

Kaska, having exhausted every possible word to find praise, felt the other person holding his hand tightly.

He sensed her lingering fear.

Perhaps this unexploded bomb served as a stark wake-up call for Fugrim, who was indulging in vanity.

Of course, it's not just Fugrim.

Casca also felt guilty.

Faced with various crises, his involvement was somewhat inadequate.

Unlike Fugrim.

His strength is far from matching his dream.

We need to work even harder.

New buds sprout, and greenery re-emerges in the homeland;

"Having seen through the treacherous officials, the enemy's plot was thwarted."

Despite embracing her young daughter, Kaska remained deeply worried:
The recapture of Carax Fortress has been successful, and the magnificent opera is drawing to a close.

However, the story does not end there.

Humming a lighthearted tune, a tall, thin clown dressed in comical attire walks outside the city amidst the wind and sand.

"The brilliance of purple and gold has returned to the world, and the bell of truth has rang out once more."

"A new leader with great ambitions, and new ideals have returned to the old capital."

"The golden phoenix rises from the sacred fire, and the purple phoenix descends from the water."

Will they repeat the mistakes of the past? And can they break the cycle?

"The roar of time remains unchanged, and the twilight of Chemos has no beginning and no end."

His cheerful steps slowed and paused, and he slightly raised his head, as if contemplating how to compose verses to serve as the grand finale of the performance.

"."

"Ugh."

In the very end, in the very last moment.

A sigh echoed in the wind.

[The play "Carax"]

[The Curtain Falls]

(End of this chapter)