Warhammer, I'm a nanny, not your father!

The surviving legionaries regarded the legionary commander as an executioner and scornfully called Fabius the Spider.

When they spoke of spiders, there was not a shred of respect due to the pharmacist, only hatred.

In their eyes, it was Fabius and the legion commander who worked together to destroy the foundation of the Third Legion.

Not all warriors afflicted with the Blight will develop the disease; while the Blight is in its incubation period, they remain noble and powerful Space Marines.

In the soldiers' imagination, these brothers should have died on the battlefield, writing a glorious final chapter with the most heroic sacrifice.

However, Fabius's diagnosis labeled them as aliens, exposing the legion's flaws in broad daylight;

The legion commander ordered them to be executed and "cured" the blight in the most drastic way.

Sadly, these angry survivors never considered that if a soldier suffering from the blight suddenly fell ill on the battlefield, it would not only lead to a tactical rout, but also tarnish their honor and bring shame to the Third Legion.

But it was this cruelty that shattered their illusions that made the surviving soldiers vent all their resentment on the "culprit".

They would rather believe that it was Fabius's paranoia and the legion commander's cruelty that destroyed the legion than admit the fact that the Third Legion had already been terminally ill.

Abdamon was almost the only one who could keep his sanity, so the legion commander sent him to find Fabius.

He would appease Fabius with lies instead of shooting him twice in the back.

Fabius also gave others such opportunities.

He locked himself in the medical room, but he never locked the door or even closed it.

Even for a solitary man like Fabius, his brothers' hatred stung.

Fabius bore this silent scourge alone; they blamed him, and he blamed himself as well.

Fabius hated himself for not being able to heal those soldiers, and despised his own cowardly life even more.

He allowed a loyal brother to die in his place, lingering on under the pretext of curing the blight.

But he is now the only patient with the Blight. Even if he says that the Blight defect exists in the genes of the Third Legion, who will believe him?

His brothers would just spit on him.

Fabius' voice was calm and low, "Don't worry about me, brother. I will fulfill my duties as a pharmacist."

He and Abdamon were neither comrades-in-arms nor close friends.

Abdemon's presence in his medical room at this moment was a care that went beyond the call of duty.

Fabius knew better than anyone that the commander could have ignored him; after all, Abdamon owed him nothing.

A heavy airflow emanated from Abdamon's breathing grid, and he finally squeezed out a whisper, almost a prayer, from between his teeth: "As long as the Primarch returns, the Third Legion will be redeemed!"

"But the mentor did not set his sights on the Third Legion."

Abdamon retorted: "The Master never measured the value of a Primarch by the size of his Legion. Otherwise, how could the Primarch of the First Legion not have returned yet?"

Fabius: "I agree."

The order in which the Master chooses his Primarchs is still undetermined, but it is a recognized fact that this has nothing to do with the honors his Legion has received.

Some speculate that the order in which the Primarchs return depends on which Primarch the Mentor prefers.

Fabius also longed for their Primarch to return and save the Legion, but whether the Primarch returned had nothing to do with the suffering suffered by the Third Legion, and Fabius would not pin his hopes on the Master's mercy.

His research will continue.

Suddenly, Abdemon's body trembled violently, as if struck by an invisible electric current.

Fabius was still focused on his experiment, not even looking up. "The Legion Commander's order?"

Abdamon's voice trembled slightly. "The order comes directly from the Lord of Mankind, who is on Terra!"

Fabius looked up sharply. "What are the orders?"

The Emperor rarely gives direct orders to the Space Marine Legions.

Not long ago, the Emperor ordered the Third Legion to return to Terra for rest and recuperation.

They would need at least ten years of rest on Terra before the Third Legion could rebuild its strength to independently command fleet operations.

But the emperor gave them orders again, which was unusual!

A heavy breath came from Abdamon's breathing grid, "The Emperor commands us to assemble!"

Fabius' eyes flashed with disbelief, and his voice trembled slightly with excitement. "But the Third Legion now has only two hundred soldiers!"

In the history of the Empire, the Emperor personally ordered the Legion to assemble either because the Empire was facing a major threat and needed to concentrate its forces, or because a Primarch was about to return!

But with only two hundred soldiers left in the Third Legion, they were unable to conquer a technologically advanced civilized world independently, let alone deal with a difficult enemy. The Emperor would never expect them to complete any expeditionary mission.

Then there is only one possible answer!

"Our Primarch," Fabius said in a voice so soft it was barely audible, "is returning?"

Abdemon was trembling with excitement. "It must be like this. The mentor has found our Gene Father, and they are about to return to the Empire!"

This sudden hope made Fabius feel that the burden that had been weighing on his heart for a long time seemed to be lighter. Their return not only meant a new beginning, but also indicated that the Third Legion would soon be redeemed!

Fabius' voice was hesitant. "Did you say them?"

The Mentor will not return to the Imperium until all the Primarchs have returned, so why did Abdamon mention them?

Abdamon: "The Ninth Legion is also gathering on Terra."

Chapter 162: Forgetting is Betrayal (5K)

While other fleets passed through the Gate of Hell and the Gate of Bliss and entered the solar system, the fleet of the 9th Legion still stubbornly jumped out from Mandeville Point.

The fleet's navigators repeatedly checked the coordinates of the jump out of the warp to ensure that the fleet would pass by Neptune when heading to Terra.

Isdul Osulus gazed at the gradually enlarging ice-blue planet outside the observation window. Neptune's ice crystal rings quietly spun in the void, reflecting a dreamy blue light, just as beautiful as when he first saw it thirty years ago.

They had fought bloody battles there and lost twelve thousand soldiers there.

When Isdul saw it, he seemed to hear the screams of the mutants, the hum of the power swords, and the final battle cries of his comrades.

"For unity!"

……

"For unity!"

Ishdul's power sword slashed arcs of blue light through the dim tunnel, and every strike was accompanied by the wailing of mutant flesh and blood. But in the darkness, many gray-armored warriors also died under the mutant attacks.

This bloody tug-of-war had lasted for so long that Isdur no longer cared.

When the Emperor signed a treaty with Mars, when other legions sang songs of victory on Jupiter's satellites and reported victory in Saturn's orbital shipyards, only the 9th Legion was exiled to the icy purgatory at the edge of the solar system.

They came here to die.

The Great Crusade was glorious, and the Space Marine Legions enjoyed glory, but the IX Legion never had it.

While other legions carefully selected their noble warriors, the Ninth Legion could only search the ruins of the radiation zone for the lingering dregs.

The mutants dragging their mutilated bodies were reshaped into tall and perfect warriors by the same body. Their pale faces became angular, and their deformed facial features became noble and elegant.

However, beneath this glamorous appearance, it can never conceal their pathetic nature.

They are still scum.

During the great journey of the Unification War, while other legions were triumphant on the front lines, the Ninth Legion was always thrown into the most brutal war zones.

Whenever the smoke cleared, they would search the devastated battlefield for the bravest soldiers among the dead and feast on their flesh and blood.

This is a talent bestowed upon them by the Emperor. The genetic detection nerves of the Ninth Legion are exceptionally developed.

While other legions can only acquire memories from the flesh and blood of the dead, only the Ninth Legion can directly absorb the enemy's combat skills and tactical knowledge, turning the enemy's strength into its own. The only price is the consumption of the enemy's flesh and blood.

But ignorant mortals gave the Ninth Legion the stigma of ghouls.

The Ninth Legion has no time to care about the slander of mortals.

There were no triumphal hymns on Neptune, only the eternal cold and the wailing of mutants to bear witness to their silent loyalty.

Neptune is an ancient world, colonized by humans as early as the Terran era.

But in the dark ages of the Age of Strife, the colonists of Neptune gradually transformed into terrifying mutants in the extremely harsh environment.

The IX Legion was given this cruel mission, they must conquer and eliminate the mutants entrenched in Neptune and its satellites alone.

Isdur's body fell to the ground with a loud bang, his blood-stained gauntlets gripping the adjutant's arm armor like a pair of pliers, his eyes behind the eyepieces burning with the obsession of the dead.

"Don't forget me. Forgetting is betrayal!"

On the communication channel, his roar mixed with static noise gradually disappeared along with his vital signs.

The adjutant knelt on one knee in silence. He took off Isdul's helmet and stared at the face that was sculpted to near perfection by genetic engineering, but now revealed a hideous look.

With a teeth-grinding sound of bone-crackling, the battle dagger pried open the most noble head of the Ninth Legion.

The surface of the bright red tissue was covered with deep grooves, and sticky cerebrospinal fluid flowed slowly along the grooves, with heat still emitting from the surface.

The adjutant took a lick; he wouldn't waste a drop of liquid.

Gray-armored warriors swept past him, engaging the mutants in brutal hand-to-hand combat to prevent the filthy mutants from desecrating the sacred ritual.

Isidur ate Isidur's brain, raised Isidur's power sword above his head, and shattered the cold darkness with a battle cry:

"For unity!"

……

The Ninth Legion arrived with twelve thousand men, and they lost twelve thousand.

When the Imperial expeditionary fleet arrived, they still had twelve thousand men.

They lost their legion commander, but their legion commander is still leading the legion.

They had lost twelve thousand veterans of the Terran Wars, and they still had twelve thousand veterans of the Terran Wars.

This is the unique heritage of the Ninth Legion.

Isdur's gaze slowly withdrew from the ice-blue planet, and Neptune's faint blue halo left a hazy afterimage on his retina.

He turned to the boundless void outside the porthole. The stars twinkled silently in the eternal darkness, like countless pairs of cold eyes staring at this lonely fleet.

"Outsiders can't stand us, and we can't stand outsiders."

The stigmatization of the Ninth Legion by mortals even affected the relationship between the Ninth Legion and other legions.

The Ninth Legion has always fought alone. They do not need and have never expected any reinforcements.

They are accustomed to facing the darkest and most brutal wars in the galaxy alone, and allies only slow them down.

The Ninth Legion does not need the tediousness of coordinated operations, nor the constraints of tactical coordination.

They devour the flesh and blood of their enemies, absorb their skills, and turn death into their own power.

Every battle makes them stronger; every sacrifice makes the legion purer.

They need no cheering, no recognition.

The Emperor's will is their only guide, conquest their only mission!

So Isdur didn't understand why the Emperor wanted them to fight alongside the Third Legion?

The IX also worked alongside other Legions, such as the savage Warhounds and the often-forgotten IV, both of which are less celebrated.

Isdur was unwilling to admit that they shared the same suffering. He firmly believed that they both had similar loneliness!

But since the return of the Primarch of the Warhounds, the XII Legion is no longer an ally of the IX Legion.

The World Eaters abandoned the Warhounds' insistence, and Ishdul despised them.

The Fourth Legion remained as obscure as ever, but unfortunately they rarely collaborated.

Among the other legions, Isdur hated the First and Third Legions the most.

The First Legion has always been arrogant and looks down upon all other legions, even the Primarch.

The Third Legion was complacent about their achievements, but depressed by minor difficulties, and prayed all day long that the Primarch would return soon to save their legion.

The Ninth Legion was different from all of them.

They need no honor, no Primarch.

The 9th Legion needs no redemption, nor does it need the Primarch's mercy.

They have never been anyone's vassal, not even the Gene Father has the right to interfere!