Chapter 469: Azrael Got MVP!

The King of the Forest slumbers upon a massive stone, eyes closed, his face carved by time and night-winds like the igneous rock of the deep woods—deep, ancient, and resolute.

His face is lined with the wrinkles of time, as if holding endless thoughts and sorrows; his nose is high, exuding pride and arrogance, his lips downturned, seeming to harbor doubt and discontent toward all things in the world—but the gray-yellow beard covering his lower face softens his pride, arrogance, and suspicion, making his expression less confrontational.

The man's hair, like his beard, is streaked with gray and white, as if woven from gold and silver; surely in his youth he had hair as dark as gold, though now it too has succumbed to the passage of time.

The man wears powered armor, black with faint traces of ink-green, his shoulder plates inlaid with a golden lion roaring toward the heavens; a winged helm rests in his arms.

Silence spreads through the forest; the Blood Angels stand motionless, staring in bewilderment at this shocking sight.

Is this vision an illusion? Have our minds failed us?

Why so sudden? Why so coincidental? Why did we encounter this here?

We are Blood Angels, not Dark Angels?!

Magnus felt an urge to immediately send a psychic message to Ezekiel, Chief Librarian of the Dark Angels, powerful enough to shatter the stone's void shield, alerting the Dark Angels to this scene.

Without doubt, the figure lying upon the stone is a Primarch.

If the stone bore Dorn, Corvus, or Vulkan, the Blood Angels would feel only joy, content to gain the friendship of the Imperial Fists or the Salamanders.

Even if it were Leman Russ, Magnus would not hesitate so.

But this—this is clearly Lion El'Jonson.

Magnus felt dizzy; as the Blood Angels' second psyker, he had heard Saint Guilliman speak of the Lion's character and deeds, and later on Macragge, he had seen Guilliman's face twist as if he'd swallowed excrement whenever Lion was mentioned.

And Zhou Yun—Zhou Yun had once told Magnus a joke.

The Lion, the Khan, and the Wolf King walked together when suddenly a man burst out shouting: "Barbarian!"

Russ laughed heartily, for the men of Fenris had their own definition of civilization.

The Khan paid no mind—he knew he was not one, but enjoyed the alienation of being seen as a barbarian.

The Lion erupted in rage, leapt to his feet, and punched the man's head clean off, then turned to the Khan and the Wolf King: "That was to keep our secret."

The Wolf King used the barbarian guise to conceal himself; the Khan welcomed being seen as a barbarian to maintain distance from the Empire; but Lion—Lion was a barbaric beast hidden beneath a knight's skin.

"Lion is loyal, Lion is strong, Lion is noble, Lion is brave; Lion believes his strength is a duty, and he must lend it to frail mortals to protect the weak until they no longer need him."

Saint Guilliman once said this to Magnus on a certain night:

"Lion is cunning, suspicious, terrifying, unfathomable; no one knows what Lion thinks, no one knows if Lion is an enemy, no one knows what decision Lion will make."

"If all were dire, all irredeemable, the play only absolute darkness—I would want Lion beside me."

"But now, I would rather Horus returned next."

Magnus broke into a cold sweat; Lion El'Jonson was a dangerous man—even Saint Guilliman could not see through him, could not understand him, even feared him.

And Magnus's powerful warp perception allowed him to faintly sense the inhuman presence lurking beneath Lion's flesh.

Though terrified, Magnus gritted his teeth and stepped forward; after all, this was a Primarch—even if Saint Guilliman and Guilliman held grievances, surely they would welcome his return?

With unease, Magnus approached the stone—but as he drew nearer, he sensed something wrong.

Scars—Lion El'Jonson's body was covered in scars, as if blasted to fragments by vortex torpedoes and crudely stitched back together.

Most of these wounds had healed, leaving only a few still open, slowly closing.

Not only on his flesh—Magnus perceived that deeper within Lion's being, closer to his essence, even greater damage had been done.

Magnus faintly saw a vast forest, where colossal beasts dwelled, endless woods stretching forever, connecting every corner of the galaxy, hidden beneath reality.

Then, a blast from the future erupted within the forest, shattering all into fragments, hurling the beasts, the forest, the knights, and everything else across the galaxy.

This—this—

Magnus trembled at the horrifying vision he had seen.

A strike from the future had destroyed the Dark Angels' homeworld, Caliban, severely wounding Lion El'Jonson, scattering countless Dark Angels across the galaxy.

Who? Who had attacked Caliban during the Great Crusade?

How cruel and monstrous—how much hatred for the Dark Angels, for Lion El'Jonson, must one harbor to commit such a crime?

What terrified Magnus most was that the perpetrator might still be in the galaxy, perhaps even hidden within the Imperium.

Thinking this, Magnus no longer hesitated—he reached out toward the sleeping Lion, intending to take him away.

But between him and Lion, a thin mist suddenly surged forth.

The mist was as delicate as gauze, seemingly one poke away from rupture—but Magnus's fingers could not cross it, no matter how hard he tried.

Even the image of Lion El'Jonson enveloped in the mist gradually merged with it, dissolving into the air.

Not just Lion—everything around him was melting, thinning, becoming indistinct, like ice dissolving in water.

In the blink of an eye, both Lion El'Jonson and the dense forest around him vanished from Magnus's sight, gone without trace.

Only Magnus and the Blood Angels remained, standing stunned in the empty cargo hold.

"My lord, what shall we do next?" Gaius asked beside him.

Magnus's face was grave; he shook his head slightly. "This is no longer our decision. Report to Lord Dante, and send an urgent report to Saint Guilliman."

"Only the Emperor, the Primarchs, and Saint Dora can decide this."

"What? An attack from the future that destroyed Caliban?"

"Don't worry—that was done by Azrael, the Supreme Grand Master of the Dark Angels."

On the Lightlord, in Zhou Yun's quarters, Zhou Yun waved his hand, signaling Guilliman not to worry about the report from Magnus regarding the future attack on Caliban.

This matter was not as complex as Magnus imagined—there was no enemy attacking Caliban from the future.

The truth was that, under the scheming of Sefer and Typhon and others, the three ancient Saint relics—the Ouroboros, the Plague Heart, and the Tuchulcha Engine—had briefly converged recently, tearing open spacetime and creating a rift to Caliban on the day Lion fought Luthor, ten thousand years ago.

Azrael, to close the rift and prevent the Fallen Angels from crossing from ten thousand years ago into the present, launched an assault upon the rift—and accidentally destroyed Caliban of ten thousand years ago.

"So… you mean Lion's son, the current Dark Angels Chapter Master Azrael, personally destroyed Caliban?" Guilliman's expression twisted, as if unable to comprehend what Zhou Yun was saying.

Shouldn't the true culprit of Caliban's destruction be Lion? After all, he ordered the bombardment.

Isn't Luthor also responsible? He was the one who first incited the Dark Angels on Caliban to rebel.

Are the Chaos Gods innocent? Isn't this all their evil plot?

Holy shit—Azrael got MVP!?

"Though abstract, the result is exactly this: Azrael destroyed Caliban, scattering the Fallen Angels and Lion into different times and spaces—and he nearly killed Lion. Yes, this is a very important little secret." Zhou Yun nodded.

"We'd better not tell Lion," Saint Guilliman shrugged. "For Azrael's sake."

Guilliman and Zhou Yun both agreed.

Though according to Zhou Yun's memory, the old Lion who had endured the fratricide with Luthor and the passage of time had become far gentler than before,

that gentleness was only relative to the old Lion—Lion was still Lion.

If he learned what Azrael had done, he might very well unleash the Lion's Head Punch again.

"Lion will eventually realize the yield of his own bombardment of Caliban was insufficient to destroy a planet."

Guilliman said, somewhat helplessly:

"He is our brother, endowed by the Father with an extraordinary mind."

"Say it was Erebus who did it," Zhou Yun waved dismissively.

"Agreed," Saint Guilliman smiled and nodded.

"But do you think Magnus's chance encounter with Lion was truly coincidental?" Guilliman asked.

The fact that Lion constantly teleported randomly across the galaxy had long been noticed by Zhou Yun, Guilliman, and Saint Guilliman.

They had never attempted to retrieve him because both Guilliman and Saint Guilliman agreed: bringing Lion back to recreate the Second Empire's structure was a terrible idea.

The Second Empire had left deep psychological scars on Guilliman and Saint Guilliman.

Lion, Guilliman, and Saint Guilliman were all exceptional Primarchs—they were scattered, stars across the sky; together, they became the Second Empire.

Especially now, with Saint Guilliman holding the Imperium's dark side and no shortage of military power, there is little need for Lion's return.

"Perhaps it was coincidence—or perhaps Erebus did something?" Zhou Yun raised an eyebrow.

Erebus had promised Luthor something—could he really intend to resurrect and corrupt Lion? Could he even succeed?

"I don't think Erebus has the nerve to try and teleport Lion to his side," Saint Guilliman shook his head. "I'll send someone to investigate what Luthor is doing—oh, by the way, should we notify the Dark Angels about Lion?"

Guilliman and Zhou Yun exchanged glances.

"No need," they said in unison.

(End of Chapter)