Warhammer: Start with a dog.

Chapter 699 When Sigismund died in a galaxy with Perturabo BC... (1)

*Don't read this series of short stories that are very dependent on the glory of Black Orcs and Imperial Fists
Maybe there will be a scene from Xiji's perspective where Tie Yong is cast (probably). If you like to see the Chaos Lord imprisoning and brainwashing the Paladin, you can continue watching [there is no such content! ]
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Although he is still strong, he is already old.

What aged him was the stress and relentless time of watching over the Eye of Terror for a thousand years under the suspicion of nearly the entire Empire.

Eventually the former Chief Captain of the Imperial Fists, Lord Commander of the Knights Templar, the first Champion of the Emperor and the first Grand Marshal of the Black Templars had to admit that he had ultimately been defeated in the face of the enemy called time.

But even so, even though the son of the traitor came young and strong with the blessing of Chaos evil, even though the weapon in his hand had tasted the blood of two Primarchs and the Emperor, he knew very well that he still had a chance before he exhausted his physical strength.

The bodies of the warriors of the Sword Brotherhood and the Betrayer were scattered all over the ground, and their flesh, limbs, armor and weapon fragments decorated the bridge and throne of the Everlasting Crusade.

Then Ezekiel Abaddon appeared.

The same yet different from the Chief Captain of the Sons of Horus in his memory, the dark power that once changed Horus had undoubtedly found a new and suitable container.

When they were close enough for the other party to avoid him, he would surely be able to insert the black sword into the other party's body, just like returning a sword to its sheath.

Yes, he knew it the moment he laid eyes on the ambitious former First Captain of the Sons of Horus.

The black sword must enter this sheath.

This was the Emperor's final revelation before the end of his service.

It's ridiculous. The Moon Wolves have become jackals that tear at the flesh and blood of the dying giant, the Empire, but they still have no idea where the problem lies. They even think that they can convince him with the beautiful ideals that have repeatedly convinced themselves for countless centuries. The Astartes have shed their blood and heads for the Empire's expedition, so they are just fighting for the power and treatment that the Astartes deserve in the Empire. It was the Emperor who deceived them. They believe that he will do the things of the Thunder Warriors again after the Great Crusade, so they are just resisting the Emperor's deception. He urgently hopes that respected old warriors like Sigismund can understand his ideals and vision, see the truth that he now tells every Black Legion soldier and join them.

——But what does all this have to do with Sigismund?

There is no such complicated cause and effect.

He was the first Champion chosen by the Emperor, the first warrior to receive power from the Emperor in times of crisis, chosen by the devout prophetess Euphrates Keeler and told the truth that he would become the Emperor's warrior against the great enemy, and he later understood this more deeply in the battle with Kharn.

finally.

He chose to allow himself to be filled with the power of the Emperor, to cease thinking, and to become the most powerful and pure weapon.

Just a tool.

No mercy, no fear, no... regret.

Therefore, no matter how passionate or self-deceptive the traitor's words are, they are nothing but a breeze in his ears. What does the vortex of right and wrong controlled by worldly desires have to do with him?
For the mundane instruments of the Emperor's power, the logic is simple.

These men betrayed the Emperor.

Those who betray will bear the Emperor's wrath.

that is it.

Just swing the sword.

Kill them!

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Then that moment arrived as promised.

The traitor had indeed remained young and strong thanks to the power of darkness, and although his skills and eyesight were still there, his lungs, muscles and bones were old and decrepit, and he no longer had the physical strength to fight with it as he did when he was young.

- If he was still the young captain of the First Company who could hit Fulgrim on Terra, what would this boy be afraid of? !

There will be no grappling at all!

His body was cut in two by the sharp blade of Horus's Claw, but he inserted the black sword into Ezekiel Abaddon's body as promised, just like inserting the black sword into the scabbard.

Deeply.

So he lay on the bridge deck of the Eternal Crusade, looking up at the ceiling and the distant Terra, and uttered his final contempt for the traitor.

Over a thousand years of loyal service had finally come to an end.

Maybe he would return to the throne in the afterlife, maybe not, but it didn't matter. He had done his job.

He just felt tired and exhausted and just wanted to have a good sleep.

Then, Sigismund lay in a pool of his own and Abaddon's blood and breathed his last.

At that time, he thought he would think of the glorious face of the Emperor.

The cold light of the main sequence stars shone over.

A shadow fell over him.

But he soon relaxed.

Because he seemed to see a pair of pale eyes, with sadness and anger that he had never understood before but now suddenly understood, emerging from the last memory.

The eyes were fixed on him.

……Father……

……Feel sorry……

……I……

…Can I still…

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"…Thank God, I almost thought I was going to fail."

An irritated voice - he couldn't remember who it was - came into his groggy mind.

"Why did you think of that old thing at this time?! I almost got discovered! If I hadn't remembered that damn stone later, I would have had to format you completely..."

"Oh, here, this is a note. Look, maybe we can try this kind of compromise. Don't be in a hurry, build it slowly, anyway, it's already in our hands... If it doesn't work, just put it back..."

Another voice he had never heard before, with a unique and amusing sense of ease.

"Tsk. The fusion degree this time is still too low. Once the auxiliary cables are removed, his soul retention rate...his spirit is still resisting the personality reconstruction fusion code even after the resistance is removed...if it continues like this, we will not be able to use this method to keep him..."

"Hehe, don't worry. This method can at best produce an almost identical one... At worst, we can try again... Let's add a little bit of what we extracted from Dorn..."

what?
Father?

What's wrong with father?
Where is this? Father...

That's not a good word...

A thin nanoprobe was inserted into his new brain partition.

"Behave yourself. Otherwise I'll just have to do what my father did."

For some reason, a strong instinct to survive and a feeling of worry for the Primarch took over.

He wanted to nod, but couldn't.

It was like his neck… didn't exist.

Then, larger doses of drugs, hormones and some kind of repair factor began to penetrate into his cells and even smaller levels, gradually making him feel warm and sleepy, and the effect of a powerful sedative made him fall into a deep sleep again.

I didn't even have time to look around clearly.

There was only the swaying of the water in the culture tank, the fleeting phosphorescent light, and a pair of ice-blue eyes looking down at him coldly from above.

(End of this chapter)