Warhammer 40: My Fiancée Fulgrim

"This is utterly absurd and fallacious reasoning. We need to examine whether there's something wrong with your way of thinking!!"

"Our emperor has never been a god, and he could never perform miracles!"

"Do not project your false dreams onto our great emperor!"

"I'm not lying! It really was the Emperor's divine intervention!"

The navigator seemed to be getting a little anxious.

"Who in the human empire would not respect the Emperor? I have always held this human leader in the highest esteem, and I truly witnessed his manifestation right then and there!"

"Back then? Who can prove that you were—"

The tension was rising, and the two sides were on the verge of a heated argument.

call out!

The Mountain Array, which was still traveling in subspace, suddenly emitted an indescribable and intense fluctuation.

"what happened?"

"What happened outside?"

"Quickly connect to the external projection screen!"

The commotion in the mountain camp lasted only a moment.

Soon, what the group saw rendered them speechless, unable to utter a single word in rebuttal to the navigator.

If what was previously just the navigator's personal experience was now the most realistic scenario unfolding before everyone's eyes.

The golden thread, just as the navigator had described, appeared clearly before everyone's eyes, splitting the originally raging subspace storm in two like Moses parting the Sea!

The warp storms that had enveloped the Dark Night sector were all dispelled, and the light of the Star Torch was in the distance!

"On the throne, my Emperor. This is..."

As the chief preacher gazed at the black subspace storm that had subsided slightly and the thin golden lines that were still stretching into the distance, he was filled with boundless awe.

Weeks later.

Never before has an expedition ended so beautifully.

For the expedition to the Dark Night Sector, after the warp storm split it in two, the fleets led by the four Primarchs were completely ineffective.

Any fleet that dares to resist the expeditionary fleet will be blasted to dust by the powerful firepower of the Yamajin.

Of course, Dorne was considered one of the more agreeable people in the Empire; he liked to weigh the pros and cons before making judgments.

If Dorne judges that the losses from attacking would be greater than the losses from negotiating, they will generally choose to surround the enemy on three sides and leave one side open, giving the enemy room to surrender, rather than fighting to the bitter end.

As the entire Dark Night Sector was subdued, Rogdorn received an explanation from Horus regarding the golden thread and the cause of the warp storm.

It was a machine that recorded and stored data.

Highly confidential; only the Primarch himself can view it.

Rogdorn took this matter very seriously.

[Emperor]

[Emperor! Emperor! Emperor!]

Then he saw Horus standing in the center of the stage.

[Thoughts of the Emperor's Fist, thoughts surge like a fist!]

Rogdorn: "."

Rogdorn: "?"

"If I could, I really wouldn't want to part ways with you all here."

Horus exclaimed as he returned to the land of Scacia after completing his expedition to the Dark Night Sector.

"Recently, it seems that due to the increasingly detailed exploration of the planet, the return of the Primarch is nearing its end."

"If I remember correctly, our fleet is about to go with the Emperor to meet Number Eleven, whose existence has also been discovered by the Emperor."

"However, I heard that their current situation is not very good. I hope he is okay."

And it's not just one original.

Recently, there has been news of a new Primarch on Lycaea, but the Emperor is currently engaged in some business with Primarch Eleven and is therefore unable to leave.

The task of welcoming the Primarch's return fell to the Imperial Sons Legion and two other legions that were still available at the time.

As a guard of honor, they are equally professional.

Casca welcomed this.

Lycaea! This is the homeworld of King Corax!

Hi!

I finally made it to the bonus level!

Kaska finally smiled.

King Crow, what a good man!

He has a good temper, a good personality, and good character. We can even play VR games together sometime!

This line of work shouldn't become too complicated.

Moreover, two other Primarch Legions also went there together.

"Two more Primarch Legions are with us! Praise the Emperor! So, which two Primarch Legions are they?"

"Iron Warrior, Peturabo".

"Death Guard, Mortalian."

Casca will never laugh again.

Chapter 163 Left Brain Attacks Right Brain, Twisting Replaces Thinking

Olympia.

A light rain had recently dissipated on the earth.

The parched ground eagerly absorbed the nourishing fresh water, causing the soil to briefly turn a darker hue.

He walked along this path.

His name is Peturabo.

Peturabo then began his climb.

Perhaps they don't know the purpose of their climb, nor do they understand any memories other than their own name.

But he continued to climb.

The mountain range, sharp as a knife, cuts off the horizon, and a magnificent and complex city rises abruptly before it.

As he walked along the rugged mountain path, he was accompanied by four men in gold and white armor, two in front and two behind, escorting him to the city to meet the king.

Although they were nominally guards, they all seemed to know that their presence was not comparable to that of Peturabo.

If he had even the slightest desire to escape, the guards would not have been able to stop him in the slightest.

The mountain path after the rain was filled with the mixed smell of rainwater and earth. As Peturabo walked up the mountain path, he looked at the thorny bushes on both sides of the road and classified them into each family and genus.

The formation and evolution of these geological conditions, the interaction between extraterrestrial plants and local natural environments, and how plants transplanted from other planets adapted to the local ecological environment and thus evolved their own characteristics.

No, there's no need to think about these things; they're irrelevant to his itinerary.

He took a deep breath, excited by the smell of rain, and in the next instant, he simultaneously formulated hypotheses in his mind about "where the rain comes from" and "why it affects the world in this way."

Everything happened so naturally.

Knowledge entered his mind without him even consciously recalling it.

Peturabo did not attempt to analyze or calculate; his brain simply began to function on its own the moment his eyes received the information.

For him, these were all novel experiences.

Perhaps as a newborn, he doesn't know where his innate abilities come from, but what he does know is that he is carrying wisdom far beyond his age.

"It will be very dangerous ahead."

One of the guards stopped at a narrow platform in front of the stone steps.

He reached out his hand, breaking the long-standing silence among them.

"I don't need help."

Peturabo declined the other party's offer.

He never needed these things, even though he had no memory of human civilization on this planet.

But he still doesn't need it.

Low-lying clouds turned into mist, tumbling down the cliffs and into the valley, revealing diamond-like stars.

The swirling stars twinkled in the sky.

It was still staring at itself.

Peturabona's analytical mind, capable of processing everything it saw, was rendered powerless upon encountering him. To the magnificent vortex appearing in the starry sky, he could only sense the other's malevolent gaze.

Nothing else.

Peturabo had asked his guards about this, but they all seemed to ignore it.

He possessed wisdom, and the eyes of wisdom allowed him to see things that ordinary people could not.

This is a truth that the mediocre people of Olympia cannot comprehend.

He was not afraid of it, so he ignored this meaningless emotion and focused his attention on the world beneath his bare feet.

He continued climbing.

Peturabo is growing up.

Although his appearance seemed to have nothing to do with a "boy", it seemed that others did not care about Peturabo's understanding of logic, art and philosophy.

As the adopted son of the Olympian tyrant Damikos, Peturabo displayed extraordinary talent.

Whether it's mathematics, architecture, or art aesthetics, Peturabo has his own insights—he wants to transform the city into a larger and more beautiful entity.

But the other party only saw, or rather only wanted to see, the sharp blade he had forged.

The tyrant only wanted to use him to solidify his own hegemony.

Peturabo, with his innate analytical abilities, reached this conclusion in an instant.

In fact, Peturabo did not like the almost limitless knowledge that he was born with in his brain.

These experiences and knowledge deprived him of the ability to feel surprise, preventing him from ever experiencing the simple curiosity and emotion of appreciating things, and instead only deconstructing and analyzing them.

Analysis

He quickly came to a conclusion.

They're all idiots.

The combined attacks from the endless stream of political opportunists, superstitious religious priests, Luddites filled with fear of the future, and ignorant skeptics within the royal court left him utterly speechless.

Is knowledge a blessing or a more vicious curse, condemning a genius to spend his entire life among mediocre people on this planet?

The vortex of stars was still watching him, just as it had when he first had memories of climbing the mountain.

The Star Vortex is merely a description of the state of this malevolent gazer, and in the future, Perturabo may give it a more fitting name.

—【The Eye of Fear】

But Peturabo was not a tyrant.

(At least not yet)

He was a cultured scholar and a gentle pacifist.

Filled with ideals of peace, freedom, and enlightenment, he designed exquisite theaters, museums, and bridges for Olympia.

Faced with the brink of an intractable war, Peturabo also strives to avoid conflict through diplomatic means as much as possible.