Warhammer: Start with a dog.

Chapter 580: Try your best but still can't defeat the one you meet...
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"I don't believe you."

Although the gatekeeper of the Hera Fortress performed his duties conscientiously as Maneus Calga, whose life or death was unknown at this moment, had promised to the "Primarch Saint", he let a group of strange humans with alien shapes into the heavily guarded fortress and loyally showed them the way.

but.

As we all know, when there is no accident, an accident will happen at this time.

This is especially true in a universe with a destiny designer.

Especially when your chapter is called the Ultramarines, and your Second Captain happens to be a man named Cato Sicarius this year - of course, this certainly does not mean that the number of Second Captains of the Ultramarines online at the same time is a little bit too high.

And this Cato Sicarius had not even suffered the social beatings of the Warp.

Well, it is not surprising that the Second Captain, who, even after becoming an Ultramarines, never forgot the title of Grand Duke of Tarasa that he inherited as a mortal, would do something similar to the classic combination of the popular fantasy knight novels in the ninth century, where he tries to use his status to suppress the archmage who just entered the city but looks tough, the pointy-eared elf, the mechanical alchemist, the pious woman with obvious super powers, and the paladin. This kind of shortsighted behavior makes people wonder how he got such an important position as the Second Captain and whether there is some black box involved.

"You can't go through there!"

His Excellency Grand Duke Cato Sicarius stood at the entrance of the garden square leading to the Temple of Strictness, with his arms folded and his chest and belly protruding. His ultramarine power armor was shining with golden light. His beloved sword was hung on his hips with a belt of the finest animal skin. His combat boots were polished to a shine - the shine so bright that a mosquito could be killed by it indicated that it must have taken two slaves three full hours and four pieces of greased glocks to polish it.

"You look too suspicious. I can't let you go to meet my master like this."

At this time, the group of visitors looked at each other, and finally the living saint stepped forward, slightly folded her wings, and floated lightly in front of the strong man.

"Look at me, Cato Sicarius of Tarasa. If you are still a warrior loyal to the Imperium and the Emperor, you will not mistake the radiance of His blessing on me. I am the embodiment of His will, and I have been inspired by Him to bring you the good news that your father will be reborn. You must make way, and we will pass, and you will receive your crown."

She was not wearing a helmet, and Sicarius's extremely arrogant and critical eyes swept from the living saint's peaceful and tranquil ivory-colored face to her soft black hair as black as ebony, and then from the rose wreath on her sword handle to her shining wings. When he found that the wings shining with charming silver and gold seemed to really spread out from the muscles under the armor, a slight and obvious sneer appeared on his face.

"Mutants," he said haughtily. "An alliance with aliens. Ha."

The Second Captain's brain seemed to be blessed with some strange stubbornness. His observation and understanding of the Living Saint was a little different from everyone else's, and he became even more arrogant. He seemed to completely ignore the obviously angry Battle Sisters and Black Templars behind the Living Saint, and completely ignored the existence of the Grand Sage, the Inquisitor, and the Grey Knights in shining silver armor who were towering in front of him.

"This situation only deepens your suspicion! Beautiful lady, although you are indeed wearing a set of nun power armor that looks like a real one, and you also have the face that looks most like a saint I have ever seen, as far as I know, we ordinary humans do not grow wings." He raised his chin triumphantly and pointed at the back of the shocked living saint. "Although you are so affectionate to me, I will not be fooled! You can't fool me, I will see through every sweet word of yours and will not be moved."

"I am deeply shocked that there are people among you humans whose arrogance leads to a level of absurdity that is 85% of that of my dark cousins. Are all Ultramarines like this?"

Ivrenee unfolded her blade fan and covered the lower half of her face like an ancient court lady - this was a subtle way for this Comorian succubus who had tried all kinds of paths to express her disdain and "not wanting to talk to such a being".

The Black Templar Marshal was also too shocked to rush over and beat down this ignorant cousin painted blue. He even replied to the female alien in surprise.

"No, no, he is just a special case. We Space Marines are really not like that..."

Then the Eldar laughed softly at the Marshal who suddenly fell silent and began to repent.

The Inquisitor pushed through the crowd on her power heels and strode forward, almost raising her rosette in anger and pressing it against the nose of the "walking embodiment of arrogance."

"Watch it carefully! Boy! This is the sacred and supreme right granted to me by the Emperor and the Inquisition! As one of the highest-ranking Inquisitors in the entire sector, I have the right to lead my team into the Hera Fortress for inspection! Ultramarines! Get out of your way, or I will blast you and your power armor out of here!"

"Then you can try it," Sicarius spread his arms, not caring, not afraid. "If you can really knock me down, you can pass through here! Inquisitor! Your power cannot overwhelm me! I am Cato Sicarius! Magical Sicarius!"

"Why does this conversation sound so familiar? It reminds me of some ancient novels I read when I was very young..." Malcador muttered in a low voice, squinting his eyes to observe the Ultramarines who suddenly appeared in the middle of the road, ready to teach him a lesson, but out of a kind of shrewd caution towards things that suddenly appear, he still took a quick look at the fate of the Second Captain.

"...His fate line...Why is it so thick and chaotic? This is impossible! He is still a real human?! How can a real mortal survive such a degree of space-time disorder without going insane?! Wait...this completely different powerful yet cautiously familiar feeling..."

"You feel it, too." Ahriman, who had been wearing his helmet ever since the battle in the Webway, walked up to him. "This warrior...something happened to his fate. After the King of Kings' unintentional triple reinforcement and distortion, he experienced different fates without memories or with his memories reset, but they were not completely erased. This caused his body and soul to be much stronger than they should be, but he lacked the knowledge to control them, and thus unconsciously became a kind of 'person' who was carried by these beings with strong inertia but no self-awareness."

"…It's hard for me to say whether this is extremely lucky or extremely unlucky." Malcador frowned. "This kind of coincidence is even more coincidental than coincidence. Such a person actually exists."

"At least I personally think it's good luck for him. This means that he is more resistant to the corruption of Chaos than my brothers. Except for certain conceptual events, he will not be corrupted by anything. Given the nature of his existence, it is not accidental for him to be here. Although everything is a smooth coincidence for him, he just came here and did these things on a whim, and he doesn't feel any problem. People around him also think that he is fine. But he has actually become a huge unresolved knot for the 'specific weaving pattern of fate'."

"You mean he has become some kind of specific but unconscious conceptual creature, and will be activated to take specific actions at a certain point in time, just like a biological instinct." "Although it's not far off, it's not far off. Since he was 'activated' when he met us, it means that at least part of his concepts are only aimed at the problem of fate line conflict with us - this is why we always say that even scooping pebbles from the river of fate is a technical job, and not everyone can be the weaver of fate. This is a living example of a case where the aftermath was not handled properly. If we don't handle it properly, then it's hard to say what he will become in the end. We have to find a way to 'straighten' him and try to get him to join the subsequent fate line pattern, rather than letting this knot continue to exist - there will be other risks."

"What do you mean? Will he leave his own river and even flow into the branch of the Ascending Demon?"

The Grey Knights' Grand Master looked at Sicarius carefully. "...His fate does have a dry riverbed leading to the Silver Palace, which means that something like this has happened at least once. So it's best not to mention anything related to this in front of him. I'm worried that it will trigger the temptation of some beings who have been eyeing it covetously."

"So what should we do now? We have to find a way to make him move out of the way or... destroy him before we can move on. The right time window is running out... Oh, damn, are those Hell Dragons, Screaming Sharks and Terror Claws in the sky?" The old man raised his head and squinted at the countless black spots and flames that were growing bigger and bigger outside the atmosphere high in the sky.

There was a deafening roar of artillery fire coming from the gate of the fortress they had just passed, and the fortress's anti-aircraft batteries began firing at full speed.

"It's the Terrorclaws. Those demons are obviously acting as shields to protect them when they land. The first wave of airdrops from the Black Legion has already begun. We have to get to the Temple of Rectification before the second wave at the latest to barely pick up the thread we brought with us."

"-Ah, it seems that the Inquisitor was so angry that she drew her gun. Do you think she can destroy or blast him away?"

"She can't do it." The Grey Knights Grand Master just shook his head and didn't say the rest of the sentence. - Her fate was born only for this thread. Didn't you notice that there are only a few people with names in this group? Her name and soul have reached the other side of the starry sea. The ones here are just the shadows of her past who have to complete the work. Most of the people here are like that, but -

"There's no time to waste. Then it's my turn to try."

After a burst of fire and roar, the Inquisitor was defeated, and the confidence of the more gorgeous and huge blue roadblock increased. "Cato Sicarius" laughed triumphantly, and a sudden background music came out of nowhere and attacked everyone's ears, mixed with loud and powerful laughter and declarations, "I! Cato Sicarius! So powerful! Invincible! I was born to be the next commander of the Ultramarines!"

"Then we really need to have a good talk with Robert Guilliman about the selection of the Chapter Master later. As the Primarch of the Ultramarines, I believe Guilliman can still handle his offspring."

Malcador stepped forward, the flame on the top of his staff blazing again, the power enough to move stars and fill the sea was concentrated in the small area on the top of the staff, transformed into a ball of pure energy and fired towards "Cato Sicarius" standing in the middle of the road - in the long black shadow dragged by the feet of the Second Captain of the Ultramarines illuminated by the platinum flames, the thick darkness itself had begun to become larger and darker than his body.

Ahriman's eyepiece stared coldly at the darkness under Sicarius' feet. If they still couldn't solve Sicarius' "problem" after the unliving beings that echoed with the subspace began to sprout primitive consciousness, then he could only use some forbidden and tough means to break "him".

Such a heavy-handed approach would indeed leave a burnt hole in the fabric of fate, but it was better than having the entire pattern tangled up afterwards.

"This is impossible." Malcador's whisper caused Ahriman to look away and towards the center of the road.

"Someone is behind this," Ahriman immediately concluded. "Based on your caution along the way and your non-existent identity, your attack should be effective in theory. Besides, you just wanted to replace him instead of destroying him directly, right? It was a very delicate and cautious approach."

"Of course." Malcador stroked his staff, a look of doubt on his face. "The spell I just used can even move an entire asteroid into the cracks of time and space. As you said, I am a person who 'does not exist' on this lifeline, so my attack should work on him who is in the same 'conflict'. If he can't be moved away, then there must be some 'concept' in him that we don't know about."

"Cato Sicarius" remained motionless and unharmed after receiving such a psychic attack, and even his shiny boots were not stained with a speck of dust - the realization of this anomaly has exceeded the physical scope of real combat, indicating that someone is trying to muddy the waters behind the scenes by taking advantage of the fate of the problematic second captain.

Ahriman could easily guess who would do such a blind act.

"Okay. Brothers, help me..."

"Ah, I was wondering why you're so slow. I'm getting bored of smearing the blood of Guilliman's offspring on his face—"

Sicarius's wild laughter came to an abrupt end, and his face, which was slowly growing feathers and horns, was slowly split into three in front of them, and two long claws tore him apart from the head.

"...?"

Malcador glared at the "person" who appeared behind him with a smile showing his white teeth.

The brain is roaring, the blood is flowing backwards, and the heart is beating like a drum.

This feeling……

Then he roared uncontrollably for the first time in ten thousand years.

"Why are you here?!!! What did you just say you did to Guilliman?!!!!!!!!!"

(End of this chapter)