Warhammer 40: My Fiancée Fulgrim.

Chapter 211 Only You Know

Chapter 211 Only You Know
Everything is passing away at this moment, and everything around you seems to be dissolving at this moment.

The pain stemmed from the impending explosion of his entire body, the regret of his unfinished mission, and the urgency to see Fugrim vanish into the void.

At that moment, Kasgar could feel all the negative feelings that had once lingered around him disappear completely.

Peace remained in his heart.

"This is where?"

In a daze, Kaska opened his eyes.

gold.

All things in heaven and earth were bathed in a golden light, and everything was enveloped by an even deeper, endless void.

There is no time, no space; it's as if nothing exists here.

"you're awake."

In this void, apart from Casca, who had just struggled to wake up from his coma, another voice came from in front of him.

Emperor.

The tall, golden figure of the other man formed a faint halo of light in the backlight. Although Casca did not hear his voice, the heavy and powerful words had already reached his heart.

"What time is it now, and where are we having this conversation?"

What do you want to tell me?

"And where is Fugrim now?"

Casca asked quickly—this was the first person he had seen since waking from his slumber, and he needed to understand the situation as soon as possible.

Has ten thousand years passed and we entered the 40K era? Where are Fugrim and his imperial sons now?
What was the ultimate outcome of the great rebellion?

Has everything changed because of his efforts?

Will the human empire become better with his help over the past two hundred years? Can this world escape its fate as a cesspool?

Or is it that he, a mere mortal, is nothing more than a speck of dust in the long river of time in this universe, and that his attempt to change his inevitable fate is simply wishful thinking?
"We are still in the thirtieth millennium."

All the ideas that Casca had in his mind were instantly rejected by the other party.

It's not over yet.

The Emperor, clad in golden armor, declared, "Horus and his traitorous legions have surrounded Holy Terra. With the warp blocking our way, time and space are frozen in this moment."

With the help of Kasgar, the rebel army's fighting strength was greatly weakened - not only was Horus the only Primarch who came to besiege Holy Terra left, but also Alpharis, who was rarely seen.

Even the legions that came to his aid were only a few Astartes leaders from traitorous legions.

"Then they have no chance of even getting into Terra? Rogdorn and his Mountain Array are still here; the Solar System can be completely defended!"

Kaska said quickly, somewhat excitedly.

Doesn't this mean that the epic battle between the Emperor and Horus might never happen again, and the future of the human empire might be—

"What you expected did not happen, and everything is going as usual."

The emperor poured cold water on him.

After Koz arrived and teleported Kasgar and Fugrim away, when Shadowmoon Wolf—who was later renamed by Horus to the extremely unpleasant "Son of Horus"—searched for the originally missing and unconscious Phyllis, everything except her silver arm had vanished without a trace.

Without the Primarch's command, the entire Tenth Legion was leaderless and on the verge of a brutal civil war—

The chaotic forces of the Four Gods intervened in the infighting within the Iron Hand, personally selecting the captain of the Sorog clan, the most eager to avenge the Primarch, the Iron Father [Shadrak Medusa], blessing him and elevating him to the status of a demon prince, and choosing him as the leader of the entire Iron Hand.

Under the influence of chaotic forces, the Iron Ten Legion, which was originally on the verge of collapse, was melted back into one.

Medusa successfully completed his mission—after integrating the Legion and restoring the Steel Hand mechanical legion's production lines, even though the Primarch had disappeared, a steady stream of mechanical steel troops continued to pour out of the production lines.

Even under the influence of the whispers of chaos, Medusa attached Phyllos's remaining silver iron hand to a mechanical construct, attempting to use this method to bring the Primarch back to the Legion.

However, this time, there was no Wokan to smash it to pieces with a single blow.

Under the influence of the chaotic machine "Philus," the entire legion began to run wildly toward unstoppable corruption without end.

Even though the Primarch is no longer around, with the support of various dark technologies and the torrent of steel that keeps pouring out of the production lines like fast-moving products, the major battles in the solar system still turned in favor of Chaos.

With an endless torrent of steel and a variety of wondrous gadgets from Philus's warehouse, the rebel army, led by Horus, the chosen one of the four gods, has already approached the walls of Holy Terra.

"Now, Guilliman's reinforcements have been delayed for nine hours indefinitely, and everything on Holy Terra is frozen in time."

"Unless I can finish this final battle with Horus, it will never end."

"The location is on the Vengeful Spirit."

Everything turned out the way Casca least wanted to see.

The final battle between Horus and the Emperor will still break out, and Saint Gilles will still die at Horus's hands in order to fulfill the final prophecy.

It seems that everything he did in the more than two hundred years of the Great Expedition was in vain.

Did I fail?

He was filled with frustration.

"No. You've done very well, Casgar."

You have done your best.

"The Internet Project has not completely failed. Although my children are scattered, there is still a possibility that they will come back to us in the future."

Most of the Primarchs did not participate in the rebellion. Although they also harbored resentment towards the Emperor and the Great Crusade, they were equally wary of the power of Chaos.

As long as they do not offer their souls to the Chaos Gods, they can still rejoin the Empire in the future.

—Except for Mortalian, nobody wants him.

"I"

"No need to say any more."

It was a heavy yet gentle force that fell on Casca's shoulders.

The gentleness comes from the heart. The heaviness, however, lies in the responsibility.

"But it was still those nine Primarch Legions that rebelled."

Even the destruction inflicted on Terra by the Iron Hand far exceeded that of the rebellious Emperor's Son.

The emperor was actually right.

If you really have to choose between Phyllis and Fugrim, Phyllis and her terrifying steel hand are a card that should never be given to the Chaos side.

“Everyone has their own nature,” the Emperor said, his face still displaying an inscrutable light in front of Casca.

“You want to save them, but you can’t stop their predetermined fate of death except by making them suffer a complete defeat.”

Take Magnus, for example. Even if Casca used all his strength to break him out of Tzeentch's plan, and repeatedly warned him of the dangers and horrors involved, it would still be a difficult situation.
Given the chance, he will still cause a major disaster in the next stroke of luck.

"We are all extremely confident people, and we all believe that we have the ability to save the world."

"For Primarchs, perhaps only by falling in the same place twice can they truly feel the tragedy that will happen in the future."

Every emperor will encounter his Magnus.

Of course, every Magnus will also encounter his Ahriman.

Everyone gets their just deserts.

"But you still insisted on the Great Crusade, and insisted on having the Primarchs participate in this expedition."

Even if you already know that they will eventually turn against you.

"Casgar said."

He could understand the emperor, but he could not agree with his actions.

If he knew from the beginning that a great rebellion was inevitable, and that he understood the nature of the Primarchs—such as Magnus and those rebellious legions that were determined to go down a dark path—why didn't he take action against these guys in advance and extinguish them before they caused any trouble?
"And you also know that Horus is very likely to become a puppet vessel of Chaos, so why didn't you prepare in advance?"

“We can extinguish the source of chaos—as long as the leader of the rebel legion is gone, we—”

"look."

The emperor pointed forward.

The lower level of the nest city.

I don’t know which planet or what kind of city it is, but it seems that there is not much difference between these things in the human empire: dilapidated machinery and metal constructs are surrounded by layers, and ugly buildings like junkyards lie haphazardly.

The foul odor of industrial waste gas mixed with the stench of rotting biomass soaked everything here.

This place, which may not seem like a human settlement, is the "home" that countless imperial people rely on for survival, and which they can never leave in their entire lives.

Perhaps compared to the 40K era, the inhabitants of the 30K human empire could have an extra hour of rest time, and on celebratory days they might even be able to eat Glocks meat pies distributed by the lords above instead of eating that unpalatable corpse starch for the rest of their lives.
The neighbors lived in relatively harmonious relationships. Everyone was an ordinary factory worker, though their appearances might vary greatly, rather than some bizarre cultists with four limbs and an eight-pointed star on their heads.
But the burden brought to them by the Great Expedition was not reduced at all, especially when the Emperor specifically chose to have them collect the tithe.

[The workload will be increased by another 20% in the future to increase the resource investment for the Great Expedition, reclaim more worlds, for the Empire!]

For the Emperor!!!

The workers' situation is deteriorating. With higher taxes, whether or not they are related to the Great Expedition, everyone will use this as an excuse to increase the workers' workload in order to squeeze more money out of these docile lower classes.

Why not use such a useful and effective brand name?

When all the new work is for the Great Expedition, who can raise objections, and who dares to obstruct the implementation of the Great Expedition plan?
All tax burdens will be borne by the people at the bottom of society.

The funds and resources funded under the guise of tithes for the Great Expedition mostly ended up in the pockets of local nobles and governors, falling into their hands without any oversight.

The Great Expedition?
What a joke! After paying tithes, isn't everything left yours?

A deeper round of exploitation from top to bottom, squeezing every last drop of life from the bottom to the very limit of what can be done.

But they are not without anything.

They still had one last thing that made them human—hope. The nobles had promised that once the Great Crusade ended, once they could survive the Great Crusade of the Human Empire, their arduous and burdensome work would be over.

From now on, the entire human empire, including them, the lower classes, will no longer have to bear heavy work every day. After the Great Expedition ends, they will all enjoy countless Glocks hamburgers and drink clean, pure water without impurities or odors!
This is the last hope for every person from the lower class who won't live past thirty-five.

As long as the Great Expedition ends, I will be able to.
As long as the Great Expedition ends, I can
Once the Great Expedition is over, I will no longer need it.
Countless hopes coalesce into wishes, and the expectations of countless people yearn to influence existence.

"May the Great Expedition end soon!!!"

"The source of chaos has never been the personal likes or dislikes of a Primarch, nor the insidious schemes of a Chaos God, which bring about a fateful end to every bizarre event."

The cause of the inevitable great rebellion lies in every individual, every citizen of humanity.

The Great Expedition was magnificent and heroic.

But for someone who can never leave the Nest City area and will never see sunlight and clean water, the Great Expedition is just a term that means they will have to increase their workload and intensity.

They neither cared nor had the capacity to care about the Great Expedition—because even if he spent his entire life trying, he could not grasp what this great expedition, praised by everyone from the Imperial Truth Proclaimers to his fellow workers near his post, could actually bring them.

Aside from the heavy burden that would fall on their shoulders, what exactly did the Great Expedition bring to every citizen of the Empire?
"The Great Expedition was not ended by a traitor within our ranks, nor by the corrupting influence of the forces of Chaos on our Fifteenth Legion, the Thousand Sons, and our Sixteenth Legion, the Shadowmoon Wolves."

"But it is us humans ourselves."

The emperor's tone became heavy and helpless.

Perhaps he knew all this from the very beginning? Or perhaps he only discovered the problem when the Great Expedition had reached an irreversible point.

I don't know, just as the emperor never revealed his plans to anyone.

"It is humanity, it is each and every one of us, who loathe the Great Crusade, and each and every one of us who wish for the Great Crusade to end."

From the upper class who abhor the tithe, believing it cuts their exorbitant living expenses, to the lower class who know nothing but the need to increase their working hours and intensity.

Everyone is singing praises to the Great Expedition.

But at the same time, everyone is also looking forward to the end of this expedition.

"The existence of the Highest Heaven has taken this wish and imposed it on each and every one of us."

Amidst the flames of war that engulfed the entire galaxy, the Great Crusade ultimately met its inevitable demise.

As for the endless chaos that people will face after its end, like maggots clinging to bones...
Who would have thought of this problem?

"So you're saying the Great Expedition was rushed too much."

"Casgar said."

"Then, as an immortal being, why don't you choose to slow down the scale of the Great Crusade, gradually taking over the planets and slowly transforming them—like Guilliman and his Five Hundred Worlds?"

As the Primarch of the Emperor's offspring, Guilliman may have been utterly humiliated in one-on-one combat, but the five hundred worlds of Alteramar under his rule were also the pinnacle of civilization within the human empire.

While it's impossible for every world to rival the Paradise World within the Empire, in terms of overall development, the Emperor, as Guilliman's father, couldn't possibly be inferior to his son in this aspect.

"why?"

"Because I don't have time."

The Emperor, this sun that shines with endless golden light and seems to still radiate boundless light and heat, is hinting at the day when it too will one day be extinguished.

"You've lost your power? But—"

There are no buts; Casgar even witnessed the Emperor's decline back then.

When the Emperor was facing a horde of green-skinned orcs in the Tianlong Star Region, he was being choked by the neck by that giant orc warlord.
The emperor himself had already weakened to the point that he could no longer break free on his own.

But how could he get old?

Is he not an immortal being, not a Saint George who was able to seal the Void Dragon countless years ago, the embodiment of all human wisdom and power?
Aging is a word that should not exist for emperors!
"But I will still burn out completely."

"I will still die."

The Emperor was indeed an immortal being, and he possessed power that was as strong as, or even stronger than, his old friend Makado, allowing him to be respected as a powerful scientist in humanity's dark age of technology.

But that's not enough—far from enough.

He was just a scholar, a psionic master.

—But he was never a savior.

He has power, but it is not enough to reverse the ever-declining fate of humanity; he has wisdom, but his wisdom tells him that there is no cure for this situation.

Unless—you burn yourself.

Let him become the light that ignites the torch of humanity, let him become the embodiment of all the great leaders of humanity from ancient times to the present, leading and uniting all of humanity on a great expedition against the alien creations that oppress them and the forces of chaos.

But the flame that burned with his life, though as bright as the sun, could blind any navigator who dared to gaze upon his presence.
But this kind of light cannot last forever.

The Emperor gained power far exceeding his capacity, and the result was similar to that of Kasgar—his body shattered and he had to increasingly use his psychic power to suppress this uncontrolled expansion.
"Is this the reason why you're so impatient with your expedition goals, and why you're displaying divine power while claiming you're not a god?"

The Emperor did not answer Casca's question directly, but his eyes said it all.

Towards the end of the Great Crusade, the Emperor had to be extremely careful to control his power while fighting on the battlefield, lest he explode and tear the entire world apart.

The defeat of the orc warlords served as a wake-up call for him: the Emperor must not be harmed.

If something goes wrong, there will be one more Chaos God in the world, and one more Eye of Fear.

His body could no longer support him to continue fighting on the front lines of the Great Expedition.

Fortunately, apart from Horus, no one saw his predicament—he had to seize this opportunity to ensure the Emperor's safe return from this battle to Holy Terra.

That golden throne is not only the most terrifying instrument of torture in the world, but it can also freeze him in that moment of death, allowing him and his unfinished glory to forever protect humanity and guide the return of the starlight.

“From the very beginning, you already knew your destiny: to sit on this throne for ten thousand years and ten thousand years.”

Casca's tone was filled with disbelief.

"Yes."

"And, child, I am about to leave."

The emperor's face turned once again toward that magnificent golden light.

His figure was still as tall and imposing as when he first landed in Chemos, radiating a strong golden light that illuminated everything in the world.

But at this moment, in Casca's eyes, his figure was so hunched and insignificant, like an ordinary person accepting the fate he was about to face.

"No! Wait, Your Majesty! I still need your guidance!"

"What do I need to do to restore order to this world after I wake up again?"

"What is the meaning of the Ancient Sage I encountered at the Dalit Star Gate? What is my connection with the Ancient Sage and Asuyan?"

"And Forgrim! How is Forgrim? How can I rescue her?"

Kasga pressed for an answer.

Countless questions await his answers, and endless obstacles rely on his strength.

我们该怎么办?
"What will we do after you're gone?"

It was as if the world was urging him to ask a question.

Kasgar asked this question to the elderly warrior who was about to fight the last battle of his long life.

Yes.

After losing their emperor, what will become of the remaining humans?

A flowing golden light swept across his body, extending into the infinite space. The emperor's tall, hunched figure, strong yet thin, the one who shone with the power to rule over all things and the ordinary man, gradually receded into the distance until he was submerged in the purest, brightest golden light under its radiance.

He turned his head slightly, a smile playing on his lips, and spoke softly to Casca.

"...Only you know."

Click.

Heaven and earth shattered, all things vanished, and everything returned to nothingness.

"In the name of the Holy Blood Angel, I command you to cease your madness, Horus!"

"Father--"

"I forgive you, I'll wait for you."

"Horus! I, Guilliman—where is he? Where did all these feathers come from?"

An endless panorama flashed before Casca's eyes.

The world turns, and time flies.

Casca felt as if everything was returning to normal for him.

Nothing has changed?
No.