Warhammer: Open the door! Human League players!

Chapter 158 Changes in Angron

With the catastrophe over, everything on the ruins of Terra awaits rebuilding.

Having broken free from the butcher's nail and escaped the control of millennia of madness and destiny, Angron's heart was already at peace.

The long battles, endless betrayals, and a life spent being used as a tool made him utterly weary of war, weary of loyalty, and weary of serving any powerful force.

He made a vow that he would never again fight for any throne or any empire for the rest of his life.

He only wanted to be a silent restorer, a poet, an artist, and a traveler who experienced the myriad aspects of life—nothing more.

On this day, Angron stood before the ancient city wall, quietly sculpting and focusing on restoring a damaged ancient relief.

Not far away, the reconstruction site was bustling with activity, with countless ordinary people working day and night to rush the repair of the starch factory, which was the most vital lifeline for Terra's people.

After the great war, Terra was devastated by food shortages and widespread poverty.

This starch factory was the only hope for survival for the entire city and its countless ordinary people.

In the center of the construction site, a group of strong workers worked together to lift a heavy industrial piece of equipment, preparing to hoist it to a high floor of the factory for installation.

The equipment is made entirely of alloy, making it heavy and sturdy. Even when strong adults work together to lift it, they still find it difficult and strenuous.

At the corner of the lifting team, a slender boy gritted his teeth and did his best to support the corner of the equipment, sharing the heavy pressure with his tender and thin shoulders.

The cold, heavy alloy equipment almost bent his thin back. He trembled all over, and the veins in his arms bulged. Every step forward was the limit of his body's strength.

But the boy gritted his teeth and persevered, refusing to back down even a step.

Just as everyone took their places on the steps, someone slipped on a loose pebble, lost their balance, and went completely off balance.

The boy used the iron rod in his hand to push it away, but it broke instantly.

The heavy equipment suddenly tilted and plummeted downwards.

This was a group of people moving at the same time. Because one corner was tilted, if the equipment fell, this thin boy would definitely be seriously injured and die.

At the critical moment, a towering figure suddenly appeared.

With a single, gentle lift of his hand, Anglong steadily caught the overturned and falling heavy equipment.

The mountain-like weight remained as steady as a rock in his hands, unmoved.

The boy, covered in cold sweat, froze on the spot, looking up at the silent giant before him, still shaken.

An overwhelming sense of awe and security swept over him, and his admiration and worship for Angron took deep root in his heart.

With the danger completely over, the workers resumed their intensive work.

During a brief break, the boy approached Angron and offered him a bottle of clean water, his eyes filled with awe.

"My lord, you are amazing. If it weren't for your help, I would have died here today."

Anglong looked down at him, his voice indifferent: "Is it worth risking your life for a piece of equipment?"

The boy held the water bottle, his eyes filled with undisguised weariness and helplessness. He spoke softly, "We commoners have never had a choice. The empire's decree forcibly conscripts us for labor, regardless of age or hardship. We have no choice but to go to this arduous task; there is no way out."

As soon as he finished speaking, a long-suppressed resentment and dissatisfaction welled up between the boy's brows.

"You... hate the Empire?"

"I hate those aristocrats who are high and mighty and don't understand the hardships of ordinary people, and I hate those bureaucrats who oppress the lower classes and are indifferent and shirk their responsibilities."

"I hate this corrupt and unjust system, and I hate the privileged class that oppresses the masses and ignores the suffering of ordinary people."

After saying these almost rebellious words, the boy suddenly tensed up and looked up nervously at the giant in front of him.

"Sir—you won't report me, will you?"

Angron watched the boy in silence.

Under Terra's laws, such criticism of the system and outspoken criticism of current political ills are sufficient grounds for immediate arrest and trial.

Execute.

But in the boy's clear eyes, he saw not a trace of cowardice or fear, only a cluster of blazing, bright, and entirely different flames.

That is the youthful spirit that dares to speak its true feelings even when it is in the mud, and whose hope is not extinguished even when it is trapped in suffering.

After a long while, Angron slowly shook his head.

The boy quietly breathed a sigh of relief, but didn't say anything more, silently turning around and returning to work on the construction site.

Just as Anglong was lost in thought and pondering, the entire world suddenly changed.

A dark warp rift suddenly tore through the sky, and a squad of Chaos Demons, hidden deep within the ruins of Terra and not yet completely eradicated, burst forth, accompanied by a chilling, corrosive black mist.

The demons were bloodthirsty and ferocious, their killing intent chilling. Their goal was clear: to destroy Terra's last remaining food supply and slaughter all the hardworking, innocent mortals.

The sudden massacre shattered the peace of the construction site.

The crowd instantly descended into chaos, with terrified screams echoing everywhere. Countless workers completely broke down and scattered in all directions, desperate to survive.

Only that young man with the thin list stood resolutely at the forefront of the construction site, going against the flow of everyone fleeing.

He bent down to pick up the weapons dropped by the soldiers on the ground, gripped them tightly with both hands, and stood upright with his frail body, firmly blocking the gap between the hideous demon and the starch factory, not retreating an inch or yielding an inch.

Facing the terrifying shadows and corrosive black mist that rushed towards him, the boy's eyes showed no fear, only the stubbornness and determination to protect his home and his compatriots.

This solitary figure moving against the tide shattered the indifference and coldness that had been sealed away for millennia in Angron.

He looked at the bottle of water the boy handed him, and the anger that had been dormant in his heart for a long time suddenly exploded.

Angron strode forward, bare-handed, and resolutely charged into the surging demon horde.

Without the aid of weapons or secret techniques, relying solely on the power of his fully restored original body, he launched a crushing massacre against the Chaos Demons.

The cracking sounds of bones breaking continued, the filthy demonic flames were completely extinguished, and the foul-smelling demonic blood soaked the brick and stone ground beneath their feet.

In just a few breaths, the entire group of ferocious and bloodthirsty chaotic evil creatures were annihilated, and all the corrosive filth within the construction site was completely eradicated.

The thick black fog dissipated completely, and clear sunlight once again shone on the dilapidated construction site, signifying the complete resolution of the sudden crisis.

The surviving workers, still in shock, looked up at the towering, menacing giant in the center of the field and bowed in unison in respect. The thunderous cheers of reverence echoed between heaven and earth for a long time.

"That's amazing!"

"who is he?"

"My God! That's amazing!"

The battlefield has returned to complete calm.

Cheers rose and fell, and Angron could clearly feel those special emotions.

It's a feeling that brings him peace and enjoyment.

Anglong turned his head and looked at the young man who was still standing in front of the factory, his figure thin but his pride unyielding. He spoke in a deep voice and asked the question that was deep in his heart.

"You despise the imperial system, hate the corruption and injustice of the powerful and bureaucratic, and know the immense suffering of the common people. Why then, just now, did you still risk your life to desperately protect this land?"

The boy raised his hand to wipe away the dust and tiny specks of blood from his face. His eyes showed no lingering fear of surviving a disaster, only a clear, unwavering, and resolute heart, as he answered calmly.

"What I hate is the corrupt and rigid system, the greedy and extravagant aristocracy, and the indifferent and oppressive bureaucrats who exploit the lower classes."

"But I have never hated Terra, never hated the Empire that gave me birth, and never thought of abandoning my people."

He looked up at the vast, devastated land of Terra in the distance, and a burning hope slowly ignited in his eyes—a sincerity and faith unique to a young boy.

"I know the empire is riddled with problems and flaws, but I have never been completely desperate."

"Because the Primarchs have returned."

When the Primarch was mentioned, the boy's eyes suddenly became incredibly devout and fervent, a pure and sincere worship rooted in the hearts of every citizen of the Empire.

"For millennia, the Primarchs were scattered, and the Empire lost its leadership, allowing the powerful to run rampant, the system to decay, and the people to suffer. But now, all the vanished Primarchs have returned, and the Empire has finally regained its backbone."

"I firmly believe that the return of the Primarch will mark the beginning of a new era for the Empire. The old decay will be eradicated, the unjust order will be rewritten, and this land of suffering will surely be reborn."

He clenched his fists, his youthful voice growing stronger as he revealed his lifelong ambition, a ambition he had kept hidden deep in his heart and was determined to pursue.

"The fact that the Central Plains is now reorganizing its military, starting conscription, and restarting expeditions is the best proof of this."

"I was determined to join the Astral Army, not just to survive or to move up in the ranks."

"I am but dust, my voice is faint, I am trapped in the bottom of Terra my whole life, I will never be able to reach the top of the Empire, and I can't change anything."

"But if I step onto the battlefield, achieve meritorious service, and rise step by step, I can gradually emerge from the mud and enter the Primarch's field of vision."

"I want to be seen by the Primarch, I want to stand under the highest gaze of the Empire."

"I want to take advantage of the momentum of the Primarch's return to personally push open the cracks of change, and witness the end of decay and the arrival of light."

Even if the road ahead is fraught with peril, even if I am but a tiny speck of dust on countless journeys.

"I am not afraid of dying on the battlefield, but I am afraid of living a life of humility, watching helplessly as the empire falls, having a heart full of patriotism but being powerless to do anything about it."

Even if it means death, the voices of those who struggle upwards and hold onto hope will always be louder, and the blood they shed will always be seen.

These sincere words from the young man resounded like thunder in Anglong's heart.

He stared intently into the boy's clear, burning eyes, and from that slender frame, he glimpsed a dazzling light that he had never seen in ten thousand years of war, a light that was indescribable.

It is the perseverance of being mired in the mud yet looking up at the sky, the purity of suffering injustice yet cherishing one's country, and the solitary courage of knowing the world is dark yet still willing to light a lamp with one's own body and go against the tide to change one's fate.

He had witnessed the greed of the powerful, the blind obedience of soldiers, and the resentment of the world, but he had never seen such a person who, despite suffering at the bottom of society, did not hate his country and only corrected its problems; despite being oppressed by the system, did not lose his original aspiration, firmly believed in the light, and was determined to mend the sky.

At this moment, Anglong, who had experienced many vicissitudes and whose heart was as calm as still water, was deeply shaken like never before.

He understood that the foundation of a human empire was not a high, corrupt, and rigid system, but rather millions of ordinary people like him—resilient, hopeful, and willing to sacrifice themselves for their cause.

After a long period of turmoil, Anglong suppressed his anger and left the noisy construction site without saying a word.

He returned to the ancient ruins in the distance and resumed his original work.

Silently picking up his tools, he brushed away the dust from the wall and painstakingly repaired the thousand-year-old cracks, meticulously restoring the broken ancient relief.

Every chisel and carving is a moment of tranquility; every repair and patch is a moment of release.

Until the final cut was made, all the damage to the wall was restored, and the entire complete and solemn relief was fully revealed to the light of day.

Anglong's movements suddenly froze.

The saintly figure on the relief is solemn and radiant with holiness.

It was Saint Gilles.

The construction site he had just fought so hard to protect, and the ancient statue he had been carefully repairing, turned out to be a relief of Saint Gilles, a figure revered by all the people of the empire and devoted to protecting his people throughout his life.

The moment the relief was completed, all the surviving citizens of the empire knelt down and prayed devoutly to the statue.

The joy of surviving the disaster, the reverence for the saints, the longing for the rebirth of their homeland, and the hope for life—a myriad of intense and complex emotions surged like a tidal wave towards Anglon, who stood beneath the icon.

Anglon stood for a long time beneath the solemn and complete relief of Saint Gilles, his posture upright and silent.

He clearly sensed that these ordinary people at the bottom of the empire, who lived cautious and timid lives, suffering from oppression and hardship, always held onto their stubborn spirit and simple glory, keeping their hearts full of light and steadfastly guarding their homeland.

This vibrant and passionate human connection plunged Anglon, who had broken free from fate and become indifferent to conflict, into a long and profound period of confusion.

Angron's actions thoroughly shocked the lower levels of Terra.

Everyone witnessed firsthand how this unfamiliar giant restored buildings and infrastructure that were both sturdy and magnificent, and possessed an artistic charm.

More and more people from Terra are drawn by its reputation and spontaneously follow Angron to dedicate themselves to the reconstruction of the land.

As the repairs continued day after day, the heartfelt praises of mortals for the Empire, for the saints, and for the Primarchs echoed in my ears.

Angron often looked up at the majestic palace walls of Holy Terra, his heart churning with a myriad of complex emotions, and he would often fall into deep thought.

Is this the real empire?

More and more mortals followed him to rebuild Terra, forming a massive army.

Anglong remained silent throughout, calmly participating in the repair of every piece of infrastructure and the reshaping of the landscape.

Every time he bent down to work, every time he soothed the wounds of the ruins, an unprecedented and intense sense of redemption would rise in his heart.

Looking at the simple, pure faces of the mortals around him, filled with joy at the rebirth of their homeland, Angron, who had endured ten thousand years of bloodshed and suffering, remained silent for a long time.

He began to listen attentively to the expectations and voices of ordinary people, and took the initiative to help them repair dilapidated walls, build infrastructure, and install public facilities.

Countless ordinary people gathered around him, willingly following in his footsteps to rebuild the shattered empire.

Every time he repairs something, he can feel the gratitude, admiration, and happiness that ordinary people feel.

He seems to have become obsessed with this feeling.

At this moment, on the Golden Throne, the two suns are still conversing.

He has changed.

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