Chapter 156: This Hits the Spot!
Arriving at the other side of the planet, Arthur looked up at the massive Ecclesiarchal architectural complex before him.
The buildings here were astonishingly grand, their decorations designed by the most renowned sculptors in the Imperium. Even during the rainy season of Optus, these buildings shimmered under the light refracted by the prismatic domes of their roofs.
Statues of various saints and epic heroes stood along the complex's thoroughfares. At the very center was the most magnificent statue of the Emperor. He was clad in noble power armor, his sword pointing towards the heavens, yet his eyes were fixed on the subjects at his feet.
The invasion had been concentrated on the ruins on the other side of the planet. Neither the Eldar nor the Iron Warriors had intended to conquer this planet, which meant that the vast majority of Optus's population and architecture remained intact.
Many people hadn't even realized what had happened, thinking it was just a common invasion.
Averting his gaze, Arthur strode forward, carefully weaving through the raggedly dressed crowd. From the corner of his eye, he noticed the food in their hands, mixed with medication, being brought to their mouths. He followed the increasingly fervent cheers, moving towards the center of the church at a speed that was difficult to track.
By the time the church staff noticed Arthur, the knight was already at Karna's side.
"This is..." The Archbishop, noticing the anomaly, cast his gaze over, then instinctively fell silent. The congregation who had been echoing his sermon also fell quiet.
He looked the restrained and magnificent knight up and down, at his sword and shield. He could feel a dense power of faith from them.
"Emperor above..." the Archbishop realized. This was a weapon blessed by the Emperor. Just looking at this weapon would be a form of torture for the foul things of Chaos who sought the beauty of corruption and twisted sensations.
"In such a hurry?" Karna asked in a low voice. He knew what had happened. Those divine beings in the Imperial Navy had pulled another one of their stunts.
"Not in a hurry, but it is indeed time to go," Arthur said, shaking his head. He then fumbled with the control facility. "I'll use the holographic projector. You pick the people, and I'll provide the light show."
The crusade fleet would leave a portion of its staff on every planet it passed through, especially on the Ecclesiarchy side. A Canoness of Writ and a Cardinal would have to be left behind to ensure a certain degree of control over the local area. Previously, they had been responsible for spreading the faith of the Sacred Rose. Now, it had been slightly modified to synchronize with Baal.
However, the recruitment of armed forces was a bit more troublesome. Not a single Battle-Sister was willing to leave the crusade fleet. Fortunately, there were quite a few Astra Militarum under the crusade fleet's control, and the ample equipment could also support the various planetary sects in completing their own armed construction.
"Here." Karna handed over a list.
Rituals and ceremonies were Arthur's forte. And he had a case study to refer to—Vandire had also used the Feast of the Rose to shield himself from bullets and fool the Battle-Sisters. Since Romulus had approved Ramesses's experimental application, then they would give it a try.
Arthur nodded, gave the Archbishop a look, and then drew his blade. The inscriptions upon it lit up, like angry, open eyes on the black base, and a dazzling, strong light erupted.
The Archbishop stared intently at the blade, convinced that its light was enough to make daemons retreat.
The tip of the sword gently pressed down. Under the fervent gazes of countless believers, countless pillars of light rose into the sky, falling upon the sons of the Angel who had received the notice and had completed their cleanup, upon the Invictarus Suzerains who had consolidated their data, upon the Sisters and priests who had already completed the distribution of supplies.
They were like the chosen of heaven, summoned by the God-Emperor, stepping onto a brilliant bridge into the endless starry sky.
Countless believers who had been in doubt before, seeing such a scene, their faces immediately filled with fanaticism.
The solemn knight slowly swung his sword and at the same time ordered the Dark Angels in the shadows to activate the teleportation beacons.
The summoned warriors, like melting snow, slowly dissipated from the mortal world.
"What is lost, will be found again.
What is destroyed, will be remade.
What has fallen, will rise again."
The Archbishop watched the scene before him. For no reason, a voice rose from the bottom of his heart.
"I see a group of triumphant warriors. A fire burns constantly in their souls. They pass on the sparks from their fingertips, only to bring salvation to the children of the Emperor. It symbolizes faith, it symbolizes victory. They will all be passed on with their advance. They will never be extinguished!"
The Archbishop's voice became fanatical, chanting his blessing to the departing warriors.
What answered him was the response of countless believers, like a tidal wave.
"You know, maybe you should do this from now on!" Karna said to Arthur at his side, looking at the psychic energy he had just gained.
He didn't want to be an idol anymore.
"I am not qualified to be the kinsman of Sanguinius," Arthur replied, his expression impassive.
"We're not getting over this, are we?" Karna couldn't help but grit his teeth. What kind of elements had they brought with them when they had transmigrated? Why did he have to be associated with Sanguinius?
"Lord Karna!"
Sarpedon, who had been stationed on the ship to assist Drakus in arresting the Dark Angels, was passing through the corridor. He noticed Arthur and Karna walking side by side and immediately saluted respectfully.
"Greetings, Sarpedon. You are—" Karna replied with a smile, at the same time noticing the scratches on his armor, and couldn't help but be curious.
"Some uninvited guests have entered the warship." Sarpedon looked back and forth between the two of them, then apologized with shame. "I am sorry, my Lords. I have brought shame to the Legion."
'What is this now?'
Karna, who had quickly understood the situation from the gathered elements, was at a loss for whether to laugh or cry.
Are we playing cat-and-mouse here?
"It's of no consequence. You may continue," Karna said with a wave of his hand. Sarpedon immediately saluted and left.
Watching his back, Karna could feel a contradiction in this Crimson Paladin lord, a mixture of joy and shame.
The two of them then arrived at the bridge of the Eternal Crusader and saw Rann standing solemnly at the entrance.
"Greetings, Rann," Karna said. The people he had met on the way had all been like this.
"Salutations to you, Lord Karna—Lord Arthur," Rann quickly replied—his reaction seemed to be a half-second too slow, and then he saluted Arthur.
Karna studied his expression. This first Chapter Master of the Executioners didn't seem to show much joy of victory. He had just won against his old rival. He should be celebrating.
Karna turned his head and said to Arthur, "Have you noticed that they seem a bit different?"
"Because they really think you're a Primarch," Arthur replied, leading Karna to a seat.
The encounter with Perturabo had been an accident, but this guy, with a single sentence, had determined the identity of the four of them. Although the contemporary Astartes and the imprisoned members had been dispersed at the time, the "Stormcast" and the Dark Angels had been present. Although it wasn't something they would just go around saying, they all more or less had an idea now.
And the reason for the sons of Dorn's disappointment was this. The situation of the Imperium was critical, but of the returned Primarchs, there were only these four, and there was even a traitor legion among them. Didn't that mean that these four were indispensable to the Imperium?
Then what about their Primarch, Rogal Dorn?
"..."
Karna's gaze swept over the bodies of the Phalanx Warders one by one. He could more or less feel a sense of loss from all of them.
He was at a loss for whether to laugh or cry.
'Let's just get back to business.'
Karna shook his head in frustration, then looked at the crowd at the council table.
He had also heard about the situation on Macragge. It seemed that the defensive line, with the Tyranids at its core, had collapsed, and the Hive Fleet was now making a beeline for the capital. The specifics would have to be analyzed later, through the information channels of the various factions.
But what was this situation?
Karna scanned the frowning Romulus, the meditating Arthur, the pained-looking Ramesses who was thinking about something, and then, one by one, the commanders of the various factions.
Compared to the tension of the four of them, and the seriousness of the "Stormcast," the commanders who had been born in this era did not seem to be in a hurry. Of course, this did not mean that they were not taking it seriously. They had always been able to fulfill their duties with all their heart.
His gaze fell on High Marshal Helbrecht. This battle-hardened warrior's brow was tightly furrowed. But as he looked at the battle report, his furrowed brow seemed to relax, as if in relief.
What was with this expression of feeling that something was wrong, but then being relieved when something bad happened?
How had the atmosphere of the entire crusade fleet become so strange after he had gone down to be an idol for a while?