Chapter 811: Wars of the Past

Fourth Defense Zone, the site of the damaged old school.

Vulkan's massive figure was exceptionally conspicuous at the construction site. He was helping a group of workers steady a fractured load-bearing beam.

Sweat slid down his charcoal-black skin, and his deep, resonant voice rang out from time to time.

"Careful now, lift the left side another two centimeters... Good! Hold it steady!"

All around, the warriors of the Salamanders were hauling heavy building materials or welding connection points.

Their very presence made the nearby residents feel at ease, and children even watched from afar, whispering about those "Emperor's Angels."

"Lord Vulkan, you really don't have to..."

A worker, feeling somewhat uneasy, spoke up.

Vulkan revealed a gentle smile and spoke.

"Forge Power can forge weapons, and it can also cast a home.

Seeing the children return to their classrooms sooner is more satisfying than destroying a hundred Alien fortresses.

Let's continue; let's strive to give the children a place to shelter from the wind and rain by next week."

"Lord Vulkan, look at this hoisting plan for the prefabricated wall panels..."

A young engineer approached with blueprints, pointing at a detail on the structural diagram; there was no restraint on his face as one might expect when facing a Primarch, only the focus of discussing a technical problem.

Vulkan bent down, his massive figure casting a shadow, but the engineer seemed long accustomed to it.

He listened earnestly, occasionally tapping the blueprint with a thick finger, and said in a calm voice.

"Here, consider the stress distribution. Shifting the lifting point by five centimeters will make it more uniform. Also, have Fernando and his team reinforce the inner support frame first before hoisting."

"Understood! I'll adjust it right away!"

The engineer's eyes lit up, and he immediately ran off to notify the others.

A few children were no longer satisfied with watching from afar.

They carried a few bottles of boiled water in recycled containers, carefully avoiding the building materials on the ground, and walked behind a Salamanders Space Marine named "Zheermakesi" who was clearing rubble.

The warrior's heavy Ceramite Armor was covered in dust, and the Salamander emblem on his shoulder guard remained striking in the sunlight.

"Lord Angel... would you like some water?"

A little girl with braided pigtails gathered her courage, her voice thin.

Zheermakesi stopped his work, his helmet turning toward the children.

He did not answer immediately, but first looked at Vulkan not far away.

Vulkan was instructing another group of workers and gave a slight nod.

Only then did Zheermakesi turn around slowly and with extreme caution, avoiding any sudden movements that might stir up dust and frighten the children.

He reached out a large, armored hand and gently took the small bottle of water.

"Thank you, little warriors."

The voice from under the helmet sounded a bit awkward, but Zheermakesi still tried hard to make his tone soft.

Seeing the giant actually accept the water, the children's faces flushed with excitement.

Another boy boldly asked: "Lord Angel, isn't your Armor heavy?"

Zheermakesi thought for a moment before answering.

"... I'm used to it. When I am protecting you, it doesn't feel heavy."

As he spoke, Zheermakesi removed his helmet, revealing the same charcoal-black skin as Vulkan.

The children did not feel frightened by this, for they had seen many such Angels, the gentlest of Angels.

He then unscrewed the cap—the cap looked pitifully small in his fingertips—took a symbolic sip, and then very solemnly placed the water bottle on a clean stone nearby.

"Very refreshing, thank you."

The children let out a small cheer.

They ran back to the safe zone, chattering about the "Lord Angel's" voice and movements.

On the other side, an elderly woman with graying hair carried a plate of steaming coarse-grain cakes, trembling as she walked toward the edge of the construction site.

She did not dare approach the busy center, but gestured to a Salamanders Space Marine named "Yi Ge Ni Er" who was excavating the ground.

"Respected Angel... you've worked hard, have something to eat to tide you over..."

The old woman's voice carried a hint of reverence.

Yi Ge Ni Er stopped his work, his helmet turning toward the old woman.

He walked over slowly and stopped steadily in front of her.

He knelt on one knee, a movement that made his line of sight relatively less intimidating to the old woman.

Only then did he extend his armored palm.

With his fingertips, he very lightly touched the back of the old woman's rough hand to express respect and gratitude.

"We will remember your kindness, ma'am."

Yi Ge Ni Er's voice came through the helmet.

"But our supplies are sufficient; please save it for those who need it more."

He pointed to the residential area in the distance where people were queuing for their daily rations.

The grandmother looked at the Salamanders Space Marine kneeling before her, her eyes moistening, and she stubbornly pushed the plate forward.

"Take it! You are helping us repair the school, what is this small gesture worth! Take it!"

The gaze behind Ignis's helmet flickered.

He was silent for a moment, then finally extended two fingers, carefully picked up the smallest cake from the plate, stood up, and gave a slight nod to the grandmother.

"Thank you for your generosity, ma'am. May the warmth of the Furnace always be with you."

He placed the small cake into a storage compartment on his waist with a very solemn motion.

Qicheng School in the Outer City of the Ninth Defense Zone, Xiuluosheng.

More than 70 children of varying ages sat before wooden desks, their little faces filled with earnestness and curiosity.

On the podium, the young Teacher Lin was pointing at a large hand-drawn map on the wall, where areas once occupied by the Alien Race were marked in vivid colors, alongside golden symbols representing the three current defense zones of the Xiuluosheng Alliance.

"Students,"

Teacher Lin's voice was gentle as she looked at the children below and spoke.

"We have just experienced a grueling war. This right here is one of the terrifying enemies that once threatened our home and enslaved our fellow countrymen—the Cyberk Alien."

She pointed to the drawings of hideous tin cans on the map, as well as the location representing the First Defense Zone once occupied by the Cyberk Alien.

"They are cold, heartless, and treat us Humans like objects..."

The children listened with rapt attention; some had their little faces tightened, while others subconsciously clenched their small fists.

The war had not ended long ago, and many children still held memories of the Alien Race from conversations among adults.

"But!"

Teacher Lin's voice suddenly rose, and her expression became solemn.

"We won! His Majesty the Emperor led our warriors, along with countless martyrs who sacrificed themselves and gave their lives for this, to drive these villains away! Look here—"

She pointed to the three closely connected golden light spots on the star map.

"This is our 'Xiuluosheng Alliance for the Liberation of All Mankind'! It represents unity, freedom, and hope! It protects us, allowing us to sit here and learn in peace!"