bookbashuk Page 267
Page 267
"Yes, my lord, this is my intention, we—"
A rapid knocking interrupted him, and the chief pastor frowned in displeasure.
【Please come in. 】
A pastor stood in the doorway, sweating profusely, his eyes filled with terror. He stammered as he spoke.
"My lord, you need to read a message in Star Language—Perfect City has sent us a distress message."
“They say—they say the God-Emperor has ordered the burning of the City of Perfection, and that those who wish to speak must immediately return to the City of Perfection to be punished.”
Luo Jia suddenly stood up, and the sacred text on his lap fell to the ground with a dull thud.
It's a little late, is there any?
By the way, the reason why the pattern on the broken sword looks like Barbarus is because on Devon, Horus was about to be stabbed at the other end. In the original book, the phrase "like Barbarus" is used abruptly to describe the mist of Devon. But in that part of the story, the Death Guard and Barbarus are completely unrelated. So I feel that this is a connection between Nurgle and Barbarus.
Moreover, the language of the four gods is very similar to Colchis – it was also chosen in advance.
Chapter 320 The Burning of the Perfect City
A dry unease enveloped Cyrene, and her long, curled eyelashes trembled slightly on her beautiful, deep brown face.
On the morning of the seventh day, the sunlight shone on her. She blinked in confusion and found herself leaning against the wall of her own balcony. She slowly got up and was shocked to find that everyone in the neighborhood had been evacuated, with closed doors and windows and empty streets.
A faint alarm sounded from afar; the blue-armored giants were giving their final warning—today was the last day.
Cyrene felt a strong sense of unreality. Her memory was still stuck on the first day when she cursed the giants, but reality strongly reminded her that today was the last day. If she did not leave, flames and divine punishment would descend upon her.
Cyrena stumbled to her feet, not bothering to tidy herself up. She hastily grabbed a grey robe and ran straight out the door. She ran past the piles of holy candles along the street, past the broken idols, past the chaotic square. The wind whistled past her ears, and she remembered—
She remembered that she had dreamt of the God Emperor!
The God-Emperor sighed and spoke to her, seemingly grieving the destruction of the Perfect City. Then why did He burn it? Immediately afterward, Cyrene remembered that more than one deity had appeared in her dream.
Her memory was hazy, but she recalled the language of the darkness, completely different from that of the God-Emperor. The Punishers from the darkness kindly pointed out to her the filth of their faith, which was why they were destined for destruction—their faith was impure.
The thought of this made Cyrena's heart skip a beat.
As if by premonition, she instinctively turned around and saw a patch of darkness shrouding the sculpture at the city's highest point, but as she blinked, the darkness vanished instantly.
He is watching over them; He has always been there.
Heavens... Heavens above! God Emperor above! Hades above!
Finally, Cyrene ran breathlessly to the very end of the procession leaving the city. The blue-armored giants looked at her with puzzlement. She gasped for breath. Cyrene understood. She understood—she knew the truth and what she should do.
The gods showed her the way in a dream.
She followed the last of the crowd out of the city. The soldiers directed the refugees to board ships and leave the land that was about to burn, but she refused. She felt the soldiers' puzzled and pitying gazes—now she knew they were angels too, they were all His angels.
Taking advantage of the brief rest she had taken before leaving the city, Cyrene pressed on with renewed vigor, resolutely heading towards the foothills of the Galahei Mountains near the City of Perfection—as someone who knew the truth, Cyrene needed to witness it all… she needed to… she needed to accept it, to accept divine punishment, together with the City of Perfection.
Humanity witnesses history, and history shapes civilization.
If their civilization can be saved, then someone needs to witness this punishment.
High above the mountains, a harsh wind whipped her grey robes, the hem fluttering wildly. Cyrani took a deep breath, standing resolutely, gazing towards the City of Perfection. The golden city, obscured by clouds, appeared dim; thick, dense grey clouds hung in the sky like impenetrable boulders.
A piece of rock floating in space hits a porthole.
Guilliman stood silently before the observation window, watching the pebble drift away. In the far distance, the Ultramarines' ships surrounded the airspace above the City of Perfection in a perfect attack formation, awaiting Guilliman's command.
The death knell is about to toll.
The command room was eerily quiet; no one dared to utter a sound, and the soldiers seemed to have stopped breathing.
Killieman lowered his gaze imperceptibly. The message on the command board showed that the nearby Mandeville point had received a message from the Word Bearers—they were almost there, at an unimaginable speed.
Guilliman thought of Luo Jia, the brother who always talked about religion. Guilliman never agreed with Luo Jia's views, but... that was all.
not yet……
Guilliman silently stopped his dangerous thoughts, focusing his attention on Luo Jia rather than the complicated relationships behind the matter. Luo Jia was the shortest among them. Although he was religious, he was extremely tolerant and gentle in matters outside of religion, and often stepped in to mediate when the brothers quarreled.
but now……
As the last grain of sand in the hourglass fell into the abyss, Luo Jia's request communication sounded on the command board.
Guilliman did nothing. He didn't sigh, he didn't pause, he didn't feel tense, uneasy... none of that.
He simply said,
【emission.】
Guilliman looked at the beam of light in the distance. His spaceship was still floating quietly in this star field. Except for a faint arc of light at his feet, nothing seemed to have happened. It was still stable and silent.
He watched a pebble drift by, then drift away, and nothing happened.
The earth is trembling!
Cyrani screamed uncontrollably as she saw a blinding white light tear through the clouds, piercing the City of Perfection, accompanied by billions of burning meteorites falling from the sky. Her eyes were burning! Melting! A raging storm, whipped up by the light spear, slammed into her, easily tossing her into the air! She clung tightly to her gray robe, screaming in the air like a withered leaf.
In her final moments, she saw the perfect city ablaze, and her own retina burning fiercely.
Cyrani didn't know whether it was she who was burning, or the Perfect City that was burning, or whether they were all burning.
----------
On the second day after the burning of the City of Perfection, the first ship of the Word Bearers arrived in Kerr.
As a representative, a symbol, a mystical hint, the first Spokesperson to set foot on this scorched earth was named Angerte.
After him, the other fleets of the Word Bearers began landing on the ruins of Perfect City under the orders of the Ultramarines.
The ruins of the perfect city are still burning, emitting embers of the apocalypse. The gray-armored warriors stand on this scorched earth, helpless yet furious.
The gods watched silently from the sidelines.
No more.
Book recommendation!!!
Chapter 321 He is God
The scorching wind brought bursts of ash, and the last gunboat roared through the layers of smoke and dust, landing amidst immense sorrow and bewilderment.
The hatch opened, and Luo Jia stood in the shadows, looking so flustered and helpless. He stood there, amidst the ashes of the perfect city, among his equally bewildered offspring.
He... He gazed slowly into the distance. He saw those who still futilely searched for any remaining texts in the ruins and ashes. He saw priests kneeling and praying among the ashes. A crack appeared in the seemingly indestructible hearts of the people.
Gradually, sounds began to emerge.
Aurelion,
They shouted,
"Aurelian, my father."
"Loka Aurelion," they called his name, and his name carried far on the wind across this fiery wasteland. They rose and looked at him, at their father, in bewilderment.
They are asking, why? Why is it like this?
Enveloped by the confusion and pain of losing his offspring, Luo Jia felt as if something within him had broken, become incomplete—why? He wanted to ask, why?!
They did nothing wrong, so why were they suddenly reprimanded? Why were they humiliated with the City of Perfection? To date, apart from communications with the Ultramarines, Luo Jia has received no other explanation.
Could it be an Ultra Warrior...? Luo Jia's reason was boiling. He didn't want to consider another possibility; it was an abyss his mind couldn't accept. Luo Jia would rather accept another possibility—not... not...
But he couldn't... couldn't... at least not now. Luo Jia looked at the Word Bearers and tried to force a smile. As a representative, the Primarch couldn't show weakness; they were the spiritual support of the Offspring—they were perfect.
In a sense, the Primarchs bear the weight of always remaining calm and rational; if they cannot remain calm, they must at least act as if they are.
Angerte stood amidst the ruins, gazing at his original body.
Luo Jia stepped out of the gunboat, looking so calm and composed, yet beneath that calm lay anger and sorrow. Eribus and Colfalen followed on either side of the Primarch.
Angortai's teacher, the chief priest Eribus, smiled gently and wearily at the Word Bearers. He still seemed unable to accept the devastating news of the City of Perfection. Unlike the other warriors, the chief priest of the Word Bearers usually spoke softly, but the power in his words was undeniable—which was why Eribus earned the respect of most of the Word Bearers and was so highly regarded by the Primarch.
Angelte still held his teacher in the necessary respect.
On the other side of the Primarch was Company Commander Colfaren. Apart from the Primarch himself, the Word Bearers generally disliked this company commander who had been "promoted from within." Colfaren wore a silver-gray, gleaming Terminator armor. He was a coward who clung to life. His armor was so thick it was practically tank armor. Any soldier wearing such armor would have achieved remarkable results—instead of wasting such good equipment on someone who hadn't even had a full Space Marine operation.
Angertai didn't want to comment on this person, but just as he was looking at the two people beside the Primarch, the Primarch spoke.
We will forever remember this moment, my children.
Luo Jia lowered his eyes; his golden pupils had turned gray under the ashes of the Perfect City.
Some incomprehensible things have happened, but I swear to you, if the Empire, if the Ultramarines cannot explain this incident—then we will make them pay the price.
The word "price" echoed in Angelthai's mind as he felt the ashes brush against his face. "What will be our price?" he wondered. "Oririan, my father, what will be the price we pay for accepting all this?"
He rigidly obeyed the Primarch's orders, and the Word Bearers scattered in the ruins began to regroup. Even though they were shocked, confused, and bewildered by the scene before them, they were still Word Bearers, the most elite warriors of the Imperium. Soon, an army of 100,000 Word Bearers gathered in this area.
As First Company Commander and Chief Priest, Colpharon and Eribas were entitled to stand outside the ranks, one on each side behind the Primarch.
The return of the last Word Bearer seemed like a signal, but not to them. There was an uneasy commotion in the air. Angeltai hoped it was the roar of the airship, but unfortunately, he was wrong.
As the sun was about to set, on the other side of ashes and embers, the orange-red sky burned scorching hot, and a kind of golden radiance that was hard to look at directly enveloped the earth. No, it was not the radiance of a star; it was far more dazzling than any star.
He is coming.
Angertai saw an expression of disbelief on Luo Jia's face, a sound like... a mask shattering. Aurelion, were you also expecting Guilliman, Macardo... or some other imperial official? Except for Him—His arrival here, upon this vast ruin, was the definitive confirmation...
...proved that they had made a mistake.
Luo Jia's cheekbones were tense. He slowly turned around. The light was too dazzling. Even the Primarch had to squint. Luo Jia stared directly at the sun, stared directly at... the being that emerged from the radiance.
【Father.】
Luo Jia uttered the word with a trembling voice; the word that represented everything.
The God-Emperor looked at him, at a version of Him that Luo Jia had never seen before. He was no longer clad in that heavy and glorious golden armor; his long, dark brown hair hung down, and he wore a rough and simple linen robe, olive leaves tied to a laurel wreath woven from thorns. His eyes were cold and indifferent.
There's nothing in there.
"Kneel down."
He said.
This was neither a request nor a command; it was a forceful and primal force far more powerful than either. Angertai's mind went blank for a moment, his muscles tensed, his power armor creaked, and finally, he knelt down amidst the ashes. As he knelt down completely, in complete submission, an indescribable peace and solace welled up in the Word Bearer's mind.
Now, one hundred thousand Word Bearers, one hundred thousand warriors, are all kneeling in the ruins of the City of Perfection.
Luo Jia turned back in disbelief to look at his offspring, his pupils trembling, then he turned back, his voice almost inaudible.
【……Father?】
His father was looking at him at that moment, his eyes devoid of any emotion.
"Kneel down."
He repeated it, the word pressing down on Luo Jia so hard he felt he could hardly breathe, his brain trembling, his back arching to an unimaginable degree—and finally, he knelt down.
“Luojia Aurelion,”
The voice came from above them.
"I am disappointed in you, I am disappointed in your legion."
Luo Jia felt a buzzing in his head, as if his blood had stopped flowing. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't understand why—why?!
He tried to look up at his father, but his attempt failed; overwhelming disappointment choked him, and he couldn't lift his head.
"You think I am a god."
The Divine Emperor said calmly.
A twitching smile tugged at Luo Jia's lips. Was it just for this reason? Was it just because you still insisted you weren't a god that you destroyed the City of Perfection? You wanted us to kneel? The truth belongs to us, you cannot—
"Then why can't you and your legions meet my expectations, Aurelion?"
Luo Jia's pupils suddenly contracted. He…what…could it be that He…no…He is not…Why…
Did He acquiesce?
Luo Jia's mind went blank once again.
In utter shock, Luo Jia slowly raised his head. He saw the God Emperor standing there, the setting sun his halo, an unbelievable golden light enveloping him, cold, but—
But it gave him a familiar sense of warmth?
Luo Jia opened his mouth, speechless. The god was questioning his believer. How should he... how should he answer?