Chapter 425: Loyalty! Gratitude! Victory!

《Robert Guilliman, Regent, Won Fifty Times in Fifty Days—Won Again and Again!

《Lord Sanguinius Won from Dawn till Dusk, Without Rest, Without End.

《Lord Sauron the Saint Won Again This Week.

《Lord Sauron the Saint Won His Daily Bread with a Whip.

《During Lord Guilliman's Regency, Victory Followed Victory Without Pause.

《Under Lord Guilliman's Leadership, Victory Is Everywhere.

《Lord Guilliman Does Not Dismiss Small Wins, Nor Refuse Victory Because It Is Small.

What even is this? Terra had only one sun—the Emperor.

How did it become this—Terra with multiple suns, loyalty and victory blooming everywhere?

Zhou Yun immediately felt a headache, and opened a historical text written by the Rationalist Chronicle Society.

Every page was filled with complex High Gothic script, like scripture—if Zhou Yun hadn't taken the Translation Tuber beforehand, he wouldn't have understood a word.

Even now that he understood, it meant nothing.

For example, this book: Robert Guilliman, Regent, Won Fifty Times in Fifty Days—Won Again and Again!

It listed, in nearly comical fashion, how Guilliman achieved fifty great victories in fifty days—some of which, to Zhou Yun's eyes, were trivial as dust.

"Lord Guilliman removed the excess toilets from the Imperial Palace during the High Lords' reign—another great win!"

Zhou Yun read one of these entries aloud, raising his voice.

They actually wrote this up as a grand achievement? Anyone unfamiliar would think Guilliman was the Imperial Toilet Supervisor.

The rest was much the same: Lord Guilliman was the Emperor's most loyal son; Lord Sanguinius's sacrifice could never be repaid—everything came down to loyalty or debt, loyalty or victory, perfectly compensating for Terra's lack of a sun after the Emperor sat upon the Golden Throne.

Seeing Zhou Yun's expression, all the formal members and auxiliary staff of the Rationalist Chronicle Society flinched, hunching their necks and daring not to look at him.

Zhou Yun, seeing this, couldn't help but sigh.

He couldn't blame them—Terra's current atmosphere was exactly like this.

Studying history was heresy; the best outcome was the pyre, the worst was the Inquisition knocking at your door.

It was natural they feared, dared not record truth, and only dared write praise for trivial details.

They still didn't understand Guilliman's need for history and truth—they still felt they lived in the old, dangerous world.

Zhou Yun set aside those worthless books and turned to the members of the Rationalist Chronicle Society before him.

"Do you have any questions about Imperial history? Anything I know, I will answer."

Zhou Yun's words made the newly appointed historians hesitate; they glanced at each other, none daring to speak.

"Don't be afraid—I'm not Inquisition. I won't send you to the phosphor pyre." Zhou Yun said gently.

But his words only made them shudder; yet his gaze left them no escape.

Finally, a man with a balding head, dressed like an Inner Affairs official, stood up.

"My lord, I have no interest in our history—I only want to know where Tianna went." He asked timidly.

"Tianna? Who is she?" Zhou Yun paused, asking.

"She was one of us—one of the earliest." A woman with numerous cybernetic implants, seemingly from Mars, whispered.

The man in Inner Affairs attire nodded: "She was our finest—closer to the ideal of a historian than any of us."

"But she vanished—suddenly, inexplicably, terrifyingly."

Vanished? Inquisition did this? How? Which Inquisitor would dare touch Guilliman's people?

Zhou Yun frowned, already planning to go to the Inquisition and demand her return.

"She was obsessed with uncovering lost history, especially from the Horus Heresy—she dug relentlessly into the histories of the Ultramarines, Blood Angels, and Dark Angels during the Heresy." The Inner Affairs official continued.

"." Zhou Yun fell into a quiet silence.

Sorry, Inquisitors—I was wrong about you.

He'd just thought Guilliman truly sought truth and history.

But it wasn't Guilliman's fault—this historian, Tianna, was truly reckless. Why study Ultramarines, Blood Angels, and Dark Angels? Why so precisely? Didn't she fear actually finding something?

"Was she researching history related to Macragge before she vanished?" Zhou Yun asked cautiously.

Guilliman wouldn't go that far—she was probably just imprisoned or brainwashed.

"No, my lord." The man in Inner Affairs attire shook his head.

Zhou Yun raised an eyebrow slightly. "Then perhaps Blood Angels-related..."

Did she go digging into Bloodlust or Black Rage?

Better pray it wasn't the Flesh Tearers—otherwise, the historian might be nothing but a dried husk.

"No, my lord."

The man in Inner Affairs attire shook his head again:

"Her research focused primarily on the late stages of the Heresy."

"Before she vanished, she seemed to be investigating... the sudden, inexplicable explosion of the Dark Angels' homeworld, Caliban."

She truly dared to research that, Zhou Yun's lips twitched—he was momentarily speechless.

She probably uncovered something about the Fallen, Luthor, or some little secret.

At the end of the Horus Heresy, Lorgar's foster father, Luthor, rebelled and bombarded the returning Lion El'Jonson on Caliban's orbit.

Enraged, El'Jonson turned his fury upon Caliban itself and clashed violently with Luthor.

At the battle's end, a mysterious, inexplicable warp storm swept across Caliban, tearing it apart—and with it, many fragments of the planet and the Fallen were flung into different times and spaces.

This was the Dark Angels' deepest secret, never to be known by others—this historian must have found a trace, and was silenced by the Inner Circle.

Honestly, they didn't even wipe out the Rationalist Chronicle Society—that was already giving Guilliman face.

Guilliman probably wouldn't press it—after all, which Legion didn't have its own secrets?

"Did she leave behind any clothing?" Zhou Yun asked sincerely.

"Can clothing alone lead us to her?" The Inner Affairs official asked, voice trembling with hope.

"No—you can build her a memorial tomb."

"And I ask you not to investigate the Ultramarines, Blood Angels, or Dark Angels from the middle to late Heresy."

"Focus your efforts on the history before the Heresy, and after Lord Guilliman was slain by Fulgrim's blade."

Zhou Yun's warning was purely for the safety of these historians.

But they didn't understand his meaning—they only stared at each other.

"Do you have any other questions?" Zhou Yun rubbed his temples.

The woman from Mars hesitated, then spoke: "Much of Terra's archives are sealed."

"My lord, I've heard the Ptolemaic Library on Macragge is one of the greatest libraries in the galaxy—could we perhaps—"

"No." Zhou Yun cut her off bluntly.

They immediately slumped again.

"The Ptolemaic Library was attacked by rebels and damaged—it is currently closed for repairs." Zhou Yun explained.

Of course, it was a lie—the truth was that Diggiris was madly rewriting history, erasing the Second Empire's existence. Diggiris surely wished the Black Legion had destroyed the Ptolemaic Library.

Watching the dejected historians, Zhou Yun sighed.

"Forget it—I'll speak. You record."

"Now, I will show you the arc of human history."

Zhou Yun looked at the historians who had all picked up pens and paper, and hesitated.

"If any of you write 'loyalty,' 'gratitude,' or 'victory' in your notes, I guarantee you a one-day tour of the Inquisition Fortress."

The historians nodded in fear.

Zhou Yun nodded in satisfaction.

"Let us begin."

"This story begins nearly fifty thousand years ago, beside the Sacaya River in Anatolia on Terra."

"There, perhaps, humanity's first murder occurred."

"A man killed his brother; his brother's son then used psychic power to kill the man—perhaps humanity's first revenge."

"That avenger, that boy, would later take many names—but his true name is long forgotten."

"Here, for convenience, we shall call this child... Yellow Rat."

"Write it down: Yellow Rat."

The historians hurriedly bowed their heads and began writing.

Zhou Yun suddenly felt he might be quite suited for this job.

During the High Lords' meetings, Zhou Yun spent most of his time at the Rationalist Chronicle Society, occasionally visiting Jeanne, watching Leina train the Imperial Guard on Terra, and discussing the sale of dorayaki with Kanya Danda.

For once, he felt a rare sense of peace, and time began to flow faster.

About thirteen days later, the High Lords' Council ended.

At roughly the same time, the Forge Generals under Wuwula visited Zhou Yun.

They conveyed Wuwula's apologies for not coming in person—Wuwula was simply too large.

Then, formally, they invited Zhou Yun to visit Mars—the planet of the Machine God.

(End of Chapter)