Warhammer 40: Doom

Chapter 164 Forgrim
The visitor was none other than the Emperor, who had crossed the Milky Way to the Medusa Galaxy in search of his lost son.

Felus was unaware of his identity, but felt a mysterious connection between them, as if their souls were calling to each other.

They looked at each other, the emperor high above like a guiding light, with Pherous looking up at his radiance from below.

They looked at each other in silence. Feralus swung his steel hand and charged toward the golden figure.

The Primarch's instincts told him that he must cherish this opportunity, as he feared he would never again be able to fight against such a powerful being.

The emperor, bathed in golden light, responded to Felus, raising his fist in return.

These two powerful beings, whom I have never seen before, are now in perfect harmony, proving themselves to each other through their power.

The Emperor and Feralus Marus, father and son, greeted each other with divine power.

Their battle was earth-shattering, shattering mountains and causing the earth to churn. The fierce sparring lasted for three days and three nights.

Finally, Felus collapsed, his body bruised and swollen, lying in the black snow, panting heavily as he looked up at the golden figure.

"who are you?"

The Primarch's voice was deep and rough, his massive chest resonating like steel, his ordinary inquiries falling like the thud of a giant hammer.

A golden figure walked slowly and silently toward Feralus, his golden light spreading everywhere, making him seem incredibly sacred.

He walked step by step, the radiance gradually fading, revealing the resilient face of a middle-aged man.

Ferrus was stunned; the face was like a dream, perfectly matching all his imaginations of humanity.

Resilient and unwavering, as steady as a mountain. His eyes are as deep as the Milky Way reflected in the sky, and his nose is as straight as a peak, as if it could bear the weight of a thousand pounds.

“I am also the ruler of mankind, they call me ‘Emperor’.” The Emperor’s Adam’s apple bobbed, and a gratified voice came from his mouth, his clear black and white eyes filled with affection.

He reached out his arm to Felus, who was lying on the ground, his expression filled with anticipation: "But I am now a father, coming to find my lost tenth son."

Father? Lord of mankind? Tenth son?
Upon hearing just one sentence, Ferrus immediately knew that the man before him was his father.

A smile appeared on his resolute and stern face as he reached out and took his father's arm.

There was no need to discern the truth from the words; the moment their two large hands clasped, Feralas knew the truth.

The person before him was his father, the master of mankind, the supreme ruler of the human empire—the Emperor.

Feralus embraced the Emperor, feeling his reality, and a genuine smile appeared on his face.

He immediately knelt down and swore allegiance to the emperor in the local Medusa oath.

The emperor was overjoyed and immediately helped his tenth son up to board the Emperor's Dream and return to the empire.

Feralus Marus. The father of the Tenth Legion's genes, he returned to Terra from Medusa and took over his gene-born legion—the Stormwalkers.

During his time on Terra, he quickly learned about the Empire and used the Primarch's extraordinary thinking to analyze what he saw and heard.

Feralus disbanded the legion and reorganized the Stormwalker Legion into nine great chains, corresponding to the nine tribes of Medusa.

And renamed it—The Iron Hand.

As a Primarch, the speed of a typical human Space Marine is slow compared to his own.

The legion was being reorganized, the Glory Queen bestowed by the Emperor was being remodeled, and with nothing else to do, Felus felt extremely bored, so he went to the foundry to forge something.

Arrive at the underground foundry of Terra Palace and fill the emptiness in your heart with casting.

Felus's fists rained down like a storm, and as the Primarch's Iron Hand continued to forge, all sorts of weapons took shape.

A pair of silver-gray iron hands not only make Ferrus highly skilled in hand-to-hand combat, but also endow him with the ability to create high-tech weapons with his bare hands.

The weapons, each one of them, were of astonishing quality and power, leaving the master foundry workers in awe.

Divine weapons that mortal craftsmen could not forge in their entire lives, but the emperor's demigod son could forge with just his bare hands.

How extraordinary this is!
In an instant, Ferrus was surrounded by mortal artisans who admired and learned the Primarch's extraordinary skills.

The forge, which was usually filled with the sounds of forging, was now resounding with a single sound: only a tall giant was working.

Just then, another giant walked into the foundry.

Felus stopped what he was doing, turned to look at the foundry gate, and stared at the giant across the distance.

His thick eyebrows furrowed, and a hint of inquiry flashed in his eyes. The woman was too beautiful, like a flamboyant peacock.

Ordinary craftsmen knelt down in unison.

They did not know the identity of the newcomer, but in Terra, only the Emperor and his sons could possess such a magnificent physique.

The newcomer had beautiful, long, silvery-white hair, as smooth as silk brocade, flowing naturally down her chest.

Her eyes were purple, adorned with a noble and magnificent beauty. Her face was as smooth as flawless white jade, and her features were exceptionally beautiful; though she did not speak, her beauty was captivating.

He was tall and slender, wearing a purple robe with gold thread slit across his shoulder, revealing half of his muscular chest.

The man simply stood there, one hand on his hip, his chin raised at a perfect angle. Behind him, the foundry gate framed the scene like a painting, the man within it naturally elegant and flawless.

“Brother.” Feralus knew the newcomer was his brother whom he had never met. He looked at the peacock’s magnificent robes and said with a mocking expression, “This is not a place for you.”

"Don't let oil stains and coal dust tarnish your beauty."

The newcomer smiled, and the entire factory seemed to light up. Ordinary people caught a glimpse of his face and were momentarily mesmerized.

“Brother, I have come here to forge a weapon for myself and join Father’s great expedition.”

The giant who arrived at the forge was the Emperor's third son, the father of the Third Legion's genes—Vorgrim.

Those who were closer to him called him "Fogen," and he came from the mineral world—Chemos.

The Chermos originated in the Dark Ages and are known for their abundant mineral resources, which they used to trade for food from other worlds.

Since the warp storms ravaged the land and cut off humanity's shipping lanes, Chemos has been left destitute in the famine.

The mining factories were useless, and people fought each other for food and water.

The once prosperous mineral world has been completely reduced to a desolate world of endless yellow sand.

The amniotic pod of Fugraim passed through the Chemos atmosphere, attracting the attention of local workers.

They followed the tail flame of the amniotic sac and came to a wasteland.

The workers were shocked by the incredible scene before them; they saw a radiant light solidify in the air into a human baby boy.

The baby was flawless, and the worker was immediately captivated by its perfection at first glance.

But living conditions in Chemos were appalling, and one of the workers suggested killing the baby because they didn't have enough food to feed one child.

To protect the perfect baby, the worker shot and killed his colleague.

They took the baby boy back to camp and named him "Forgrim," a name of great significance.

Fugrim grew quickly under the care of the workers; he was exceptionally intelligent and charming.

The workers were quickly captivated by the Primarch's extraordinary charisma, and they rallied around Forgrim, obeying his commands.

The Primarch did not disappoint the Chemos workers.

He used his extraordinary talent to improve the Chemos factory, producing more daily necessities and liberating the Chemos people who were suffering from famine.

Use technology to transform the barren world and make it more suitable for human habitation.

Soon, Fugrim embarked on his conquest of Chemos, determined to liberate the people of Chemos completely.

For an extraordinary Primarch, conquest and violence are instincts.

However, Fugrim did not resort to excessive violence; instead, he leveraged his strengths and used his charisma to conquer the world.

Wherever he went, he would first distribute food to alleviate the famine, and then use his speeches to move people's hearts.

The people of Chemos were captivated by Fugrim's perfection, yearned for the future he envisioned, and looked forward to the rule of an extraordinary being.

Conquest is slow and is the inevitable result of the minimal use of force.

A Primarch, abandoning his violent instincts, conquers the world entirely with his extraordinary charisma.

It took Forgrim fifty years to rise from the ashes to rule Chemos.

During the unification process, peaceful conquest was advocated, and the use of force was almost nonexistent.

In order to maintain stable rule, uphold fairness, and strengthen alliances, he arranged political marriages with each city-state, taking dozens of wives.

Thanks to the efforts of the Primarch, the Chemos people were freed from famine and bid farewell to suffering.

Then an Imperial fleet arrived at Chemos, hovering in orbit around the planet, and the landing craft landed on the planet's surface.

The emperor came to take his son home.

When the locals of Chemoth brought the Emperor and Space Marines before the Primarch.

The moment Forgrim saw the Emperor, he knew he was his father and was captivated by the perfection of the golden figure before him.

An emperor with a thousand faces, each one unique, fits Forgrim's definition of perfection.

Without a word, he knelt on one knee before the Emperor, offering his personal sword with both hands, swearing allegiance to his father, and leading Chemos back to the Emperor.

The Emperor brought his son back to Terra and entrusted him with the Third Legion.

Feeling a heavy responsibility, Forgrim named his legion "Sons of the Emperor" in order to spread the Emperor's glory throughout the galaxy.

The Emperor was deeply moved and granted the Imperial Sons Legion a privilege: to adorn their armor with the Imperial double-headed eagle.

(End of this chapter)