Chapter 380: He Said He Wasn

Blood flows everywhere along the Wall of Eternity.

Those blasphemous marauders, once hidden in darkness, surge forth like light-fearing insects rising from the soil when clouds obscure the sun.

They pour out from the tiniest crevices of the hive cities, from every corner of the planet already fallen.

The churches once devoted to the God-Emperor are defiled with blood; the corpses of nobles, overseers, laborers, and mutants pile within them; the bones once venerated as holy relics burst forth in crimson flames, flames that erupt from the spires of the hive churches and ultimately ignite the entire hive city.

Not one hive city is ignited, but every hive city is ignited.

Leina stands atop the towering Wall of Eternity, watching distant hive spires spew forth crimson mists, like candles placed upon a scarlet altar and offered to the Blood God, staining the entire sky red.

Lightning continuously falls from these blood-colored clouds, lashing the motherworld of the Human Empire like vicious brass whips.

"By the God-Emperor and Saint Dora, what a blasphemous sight."

Leina murmured involuntarily.

"Mortals are always emotionally unstable; psykers and fanatics even more so."

Valerian, the shield captain standing beside Leina, asked with mild curiosity:

"You are mortal, a psyker, and a fanatic—all three—and yet your reaction to this scene is remarkably calm."

Valerian had been chosen as an Imperial Guard from birth, spending nearly his entire life within the Imperial Palace.

Yet even there, he had seen fanatics, seen psykers, seen mortals—he understood their minds were flawed, imperfect, incapable of matching the hardened discipline of the Imperial Guard.

But Leina, a single being embodying all three identities—fanatic, Alpha-level psyker, and mortal—faced these scenes steeped in the Warp's corruption, and merely uttered one sigh of "blasphemy."

"I'm used to it," Leina said with an odd tone. "Zhou Yun's words are even more blasphemous than this."

Valerian tilted his corn-like helmet slightly, as if asking what Zhou Yun had said.

Leina paused, searching through Zhou Yun's blasphemous jokes for one least offensive, one unlikely to anger the Imperial Guard.

"Zhou Yun claims he has no faith, and he wholeheartedly believes…"

Leina paused, mimicking Zhou Yun's former tone:

"I wholeheartedly believe the following truth: There are no gods or spirits among the stars, no supernatural phenomena, no magic or witchcraft—all things can be explained by science; humanity, guided by the light of reason, can overcome all; nothing deserves worship; the rational galaxy must utterly eradicate religion, this backward concept."

"Isn't that funny? I truly can't understand how he calls such a lie—one even hive children wouldn't believe—truth."

"If he can invent such a lie, he must be one of the galaxy's greatest conmen."

"." Valerian responded with deathly silence.

Leina stared blankly as Valerian clenched his power spear so tightly his golden power armor hummed with vibration; his corn-shaped helmet turned sharply toward her, then froze before snapping back.

". It's… very… funny," Valerian said, stiffly, each word grinding out.

Leina blinked in confusion; she sensed the Imperial Guard wanted to say something, but couldn't find the words.

". I'm going to kill a few fallen mortals," Valerian suddenly said, then charged toward the wall's edge without looking back.

Leina grew even more confused.

Didn't Lord Valerian emphasize his duty was only to observe and evaluate? Why was he now directly joining combat?

But Leina had no time to ponder such minor details.

The Wall of Eternity stretched across the center of the Eurasian continent, vast beyond measure.

The fallen surged endlessly from every direction of the Palace.

Leina felt as if she were fighting everything on Terra except the Palace itself.

The Luctus Blackguards, the Centurion, the Cadia 184th, and other Astra Militarum regiments were scattered across every section of the wall.

The Space Wolves and Blood Angels from Macragge were likewise dispersed across the battlefield, guarding different sectors.

Leina could only rely on herself to handle the situation.

Her gaze fixed on the priest shouting blasphemous words.

Clearly, in this sector where Leina stood guard, the fallen priest was the core of the mob.

And the fallen priest was clearly protected by the Blood God's power—no Titans, no siege artillery could harm him in the slightest.

But the Blood God never refuses a brutal, bloody battle—only close combat, only primal, bloody slaughter, can kill him.

Scorching psychic sparks erupted from Leina's body; her figure vanished from the wall in an instant.

The grand staircase stretched endlessly beneath Zhou Yun's feet, leading up to the golden-hued Sanctum.

If Terra still held one place untouched by war, blood, and blasphemy, one place still bathed in sunlight, it was this Throne Room before Zhou Yun.

Massive stained-glass windows, bathed in sunlight, cast seven-colored radiance upon the black marble corridors beside him, illuminating the exquisite carvings.

Most peculiarly, this sunlight did not come from above, but from deep within the Throne Room itself.

Zhou Yun's gaze swept over the carvings surrounding him, each one a record of the past.

From the gloom of the Old Night, through the glory of the Great Crusade, from the fury of the Horus Heresy to the sorrow of the Emperor's fall—ten thousand years of epic history, filled with hope and despair, sacrifice and redemption, corruption and greatness, were carved into the stone.

Zhou Yun's gaze lingered on the carving of Saint Guilliman guarding the Gate of Eternity; time had faded its colors, yet its impact remained undiminished.

In the carving, Saint Guilliman, bare-chested, wrestled a God-Emperor-class Titan.

Saint Guilliman did defeat a God-Emperor-class Titan—but he did so by flying into its command chamber and beheading all crewmen, not by wrestling it bare-handed as the carving depicted.

This carving was somewhat abstract.

"Facts become stories, stories become legends, legends become epics."

Saint Guilliman spoke softly:

"In this process, the original facts are endlessly exaggerated, twisted, transformed into something utterly different."

"If there's one thing exaggerated the most, it's this," Roboute Guilliman said, hearing Zhou Yun and Saint Guilliman's exchange, lifting his gaze to the grand gate ahead.

The massive gate, forged from adamantium, stood like a mountain of metal at the staircase's end, embedded between intricate marble carvings and Roman columns, gleaming with golden brilliance.

Two Warhound-class Titans guarded its sides, yet even the God-Machines of the Adeptus Mechanicus appeared minuscule before it—less than one-tenth its height; the Imperial Guards standing beneath the gate looked like ants.

The Gate of Eternity, the final door between the Emperor's Throne Room and the outside, shimmered beneath radiant lights.

Upon the adamantium gate stood the Emperor's majestic form.

Crowned, clad in dazzling golden power armor, one hand holding the Aquila Shield, the other a power spear, a red-and-white battle standard fluttered beside him, bearing the emblem of an eagle clutching lightning.

Beneath the Emperor, a monstrous, metallic dragon coiled among the stars, roaring as it spat venomous fire.

The Emperor's spear drove deep into the dragon's left wing, piercing its mercury-like body.

"I once told my father, and I told Malcador, that this carving on the Gate of Eternity is too religious, too mythological."

Guilliman sighed gently:

"But the Emperor and Malcador only exchanged a glance, then shrugged it off."

Zhou Yun and Saint Guilliman exchanged a look, then also shrugged.

"It's not myth," Zhou Yun hesitated, then spoke to Guilliman.

"Hm?" Guilliman looked at Zhou Yun, slightly bewildered.

"But the carving isn't fact either."

Zhou Yun's tone grew strange:

"The Emperor, back then, rode a jet-black steed, clad in forged iron armor, wielding the finest medieval lance…"

"And his enemy? A Nile crocodile? A monstrous beast? Or a Greater Daemon?" Guilliman raised an eyebrow.

". The Dragon of Mars. Generally believed to be a fragment of the greatest, most terrifying Star God—the Void Dragon Magh-Radros."

"A transcendent energy entity capable of bending, reshaping, or erasing physical laws with a single finger, feeding on stars."

"."

Guilliman looked again at the Gate of Eternity, at the Emperor piercing the dragon's wing:

"You mean the Emperor defeated a fragment of a Star God with a single medieval lance?"

"Yes. The Emperor struck its weakness with the lance, bound it with the banner, and rode his steed to seal it upon Mars," Zhou Yun murmured. "But He said He was not a god."

"He said He was not a god," Saint Guilliman murmured too. "That must be Father's might."

Guilliman froze as if struck by lightning, his expression twisting strangely.

(End of Chapter)