Warhammer: Start with a dog.

Chapter 749 also gave me a small taste of how difficult it is to reopen a game.
In the end, Ramizam was unable to get any more information out of Peturabo.

For example, in the Star Trek universe after Loken successfully cracked all the conspiracies and defeated all the enemies, who exactly did Peturabo play on the Enterprise?

But now he was standing with a group of chroniclers on the stone platform at the very bottom of the fortress, behind that ancient door, from where the path began.

“Can I wait here for you? I think I can stay and look after Sindeman,” Carl Casey said breathlessly, pointing ahead. “He’s over there anyway.”

Lamizain looked at the pearly white figure in the distance and hummed in response.

"I'll stay here with you all too."

Loken glanced at the narrator, who had always seemed a little off to him, with slight surprise, but in any case, it was certainly more appropriate for mortals to remain here.

So Sergeant Wootton put Sindman down from his back and let the old man sit on a relatively flat rock.

“Thank you, sir.” The chief speaker thanked him softly, but the old man caught a glimpse of Ramizam closing his eyes, as if with a hint of regret.

That's strange, why is that?

Of course, he soon found out why.

--------

"Terra by your side."

Kyrel Sindeman stared blankly at everything that was happening before him: Astartes attacking Astartes, and Shadowmoon Wolves killing many of his unsuspecting comrades.

This shouldn't happen. This can't happen. The world's leading preacher felt his entire worldview, built up since birth, was violently shaken.

"What is that? Is he—is he insane?"

"Should we call for help?" This was Messadi.

“Or should we retreat to a safe zone first? Go find those people equipped with the new gear, those tactical fearless armored men? Or at least behind the door?” Carl Casey had already placed his hand on the worn doorknob of the door they had come in through.

"What do you think, Mr. Ramizan?" Euphrates asked, but his camera shutter never stopped clicking.

But after the initial shock, the photographer immediately threw herself into the frenzy of her work, perhaps the excitement of capturing an epic photograph temporarily overshadowing her fear.

“No,” Ramizan replied, his eyes looking quite helpless. “We’ll stand here and wait for the Shadowmoon Wolves to finish their fight. This is their internal affair, and we shouldn’t interfere.”

Is that really the case? Sindman felt a chill run down his spine as he watched the Primarch, who, even in the face of this malign event that was having a devastating and earth-shattering impact on the entire Great Crusade, only showed a faint sense of boredom and a feeling of "let's just get this over with."

He had seen this feeling in Horus Lupecal as well.

Sometimes, when the Warlord is in the strategy room or talking, he will inadvertently reveal this kind of expression, which makes his conversation partners and those around him realize the fatigue he is in dealing with the extra administrative affairs of the Terra Council in addition to the war, and feel a little admiration and heartache for him.

But at this moment, the mortal Peturabo who had transformed into him showed such an expression, which only made people feel cold from the bottom of their hearts.

Ultimately, when the duel at the end of the alley turned into a close-quarters, one-on-one sword fight between Loken and the crazed Jubow, the three survivors of the Spurs team stood bewildered on the alley, watching from afar.

"Hey! Aren't you going to help your company commander?!"

Euphrates had stopped filming. No matter how dedicated she was, she had exceeded her limits when faced with such a pure, savage, and terrifying battle. She was now subconsciously moving closer to the only escape route, but seeing Loken fighting the vicious murderer one-on-one still made her speak up.

"How can we help him?" one of them said, his voice muffled by the megaphone in his helmet. He pointed to the blood splattered along the way from the end of the stone steps to their front, along with the corpses of his brothers, dressed in white armor and dying in various ways.

Euphrates keenly noticed that the Shadowmoon Wolf's fingertips were not as steady as his tone of voice.

"The company commander is already locked in combat with him. It's too narrow there, and there's no room for more Astartes to join in."

"Sams is here!!"

A wild, ecstatic roar drew everyone's attention. Zhu Bo plunged his sword into Loken's shoulder armor, but Loken's move was clearly more deliberate. He slightly turned his body, using the angle and the thickness of the shoulder armor to temporarily block the opponent's sword. Then, the power short sword in his hand shone with the light of an energy field and pierced straight into the opponent's chest, until the tip of the sword emerged from his back.

"Sams won't be coming."

"Loken said, then pulled the dagger from the gash in Zhu Bo's chest. The tenth company commander's face was covered in bruises and wounds, and he was clearly still somewhat stunned by what he had just done. Zhu Bo released his weapon and slowly slumped down, seemingly trying to reach out and grab Loken, as if both unwilling and pleading for help. Loken simply held his dagger and stood there watching him.

“Ah…” Zhu Bo said, his breath sounding like a deep sigh, “Sams…”

Zhu Bo's body completely lost its support and began to fall down the slippery stone steps, eventually sliding into the abyss.

Loken rushed down in three strides, lunging at him, and began to pull Jubo's body backward with all his might. But his arms felt as heavy as a thousand pounds, and the body was not like the Jubo he knew—this body was unusually heavy.

Amidst a quartet of screams from mortal men and women and the cry of "Damn it!", Loken was dragged down into the abyss along with Jubo's corpse.

----------

"Damn it, I really am. [Gutera curse] [Beep—]"

It's that familiar living room again.

Ramizam walked to the table and poured himself a cup of Reca coffee, using its bitter taste to calm his mind.

Meanwhile, Peturabo sat at a desk nearby, already leisurely reviewing documents on a data board.

"How could he possibly die over such a damn trivial matter?! He killed that thing!"

"Could someone be deliberately trapping us here?" Ramizain looked suspicious, raising his hand to examine the miniature laurel wreath. "Are you sure your father or the Soft-bodied Monster isn't causing trouble here?"

"This is a normal occurrence in corrective spacetime where multiple backtrackings happen."

Perturabo remained calm. "Loken probably just lost his breathing rhythm for a moment, shifted the angle of his exertion by one degree, and caused the water vapor on the ground to condense a little more due to the positioning or movement of others... Such subtle changes are natural and reasonable. In fact, if they wanted to tamper with things here, the effect might not be as good as what happened naturally."

"how do you know?"

"...Don't ask me how I know."

“Fine.” Ramizain finished his Reka coffee and slammed the cup down angrily. “This time I’m fully prepared! I’d like to see!”

--------

"Terra by heaven, thank God, can we leave now?"

"Carl Casey asked."

Now, they had all left the eerie, lonely, and cold mountain path and returned to the fortress.

This was a pool hall that had been used as a temple and was previously destroyed by Loken's orders. It was tall and spacious enough to gather all the remaining squad officers and narrators of the 10th Company.

Zavoye Jubo's body was bound with ropes, but it looked more like it was for dragging than binding. He was placed on the open ground next to the pool, and the rest of the Shadowmoon Wolves looked solemn, none of them willing to get too close to him.

“I’m afraid I can’t, Mr. Carl Casey, you’ll have to stay here a little longer.”

"Cocoa..."

"Because this matter is too confidential, I need to consider how to handle it and how to write the briefing I send to the War Commander before I can let you leave. Please understand."

The poet retreated among the chroniclers, while Ramizam remained standing, seemingly observing everyone in the hall.

This made Gavial Locken feel even worse.

But the only people he can consult right now are here, so perhaps he should only leave Kyrell Hindman and his adjutant behind and let the others leave first?

His gaze swept over, and Ramizam smiled at him.

Loken felt a slight dizziness.

(End of this chapter)