This is our Warhammer journey

Chapter 559 Fugen: Oh no, I've become a substitute!
Phoenix, the capital of the Star District and a new development zone.
Bright stars are fixed in the azure sky, constantly squeezing out their own energy, and then sending out the light that bursts forth from this energy to provide energy for the activities of life on this world.

On this planet, which has long prospered through trade, another loyal offspring of humankind has made the flame of hope burn even brighter.

"I, Forgrim, Lord of the Third Legion, hereby solemnly swear—"

“I will faithfully fulfill the duties of a Primarch, the duties of a human leader.”

"And I will do everything in my power to protect and defend the laws that serve humanity."

The sound resonated throughout the bustling territory and the bright halo rolling across the sky; few could fail to hear it.

It echoes through the automated production lines of the industrial zone, the core of automation that embodies human wisdom in production. Human beings are scattered throughout, tending to and maintaining each machine, producing industrial goods at a speed that rivals the speed at which it consumes raw materials, while listening to the words of the supreme leader of their planet.

For many, at this moment, that is the only sound they can hear besides the cheers of those around them.

It echoed beneath the magnificent Phoenix Gate, leading through which into the final fortress, the planet's sanctuary, now the heart of celebration, a place brimming with holiness.

This is an inviolable territory. The construction of this magnificent building embodies the wisdom and hard work of the local pioneers and reflects the hopes of countless people for the future.

It echoed across the planet.

The sound echoed across the continents and the surging oceans, reflecting a bright glow, and passed through prosperous cities and radiant states.

Most people who hear it will not regard it as wishful thinking or yet another of the endless, chaotic lies.

The voice was extremely loud and clear.

It offers hope, and brings other things: promised redemption, a chance to catch one's breath, and a promised comeback.

Almost no one would fail to recognize the speaker or know the name of the messenger of hope.

They knew this was an appointment from the Dawnwing, Forgrim's final address to Phoenix and the entire Nova Development District, and that there was a high wall built to protect them.

It's just a wall built of words.

Because in the past, a fortified city made of stone and steel, erected by another group of people, had kept out the enemies that people needed to face from time to time.

No one cared about the conspiracy theories, no one paid attention to the attacks coming from the highest heavens.

The return of these towering giants has given them a better life and outlined a future within their reach.

Then, when another giant arrived, he openly revealed his identity, solemnly declared his responsibility, and told everyone that he too would contribute to the lives of humankind.

So--

Support, anticipation.

It is only natural.

"This"

Amidst the cheers of the massive crowd, after the inauguration ceremony was completed, Forgrim, who was prepared to face skepticism, merely swallowed hard in the face of such a scene.

He maintained a dignified and understated elegance, but he was still deeply moved by the credibility that the Wings of Dawn had inadvertently revealed.

Do you know why?

A voice rang out beside Forgrim.

"What is it?"

"It is love."

Fugrim's expression tightened.

Why are you asking him again?

The original author who said "fear can be conquered, but love cannot" is now missing after being caught soliciting prostitutes in Slaanesh's palace.

He turned his head, finished his inauguration oath, and handed over the revelry to those who should enjoy it more. He shifted his attention from the silent blade in his hand and looked at the person who had come.

"I thought you weren't coming."

He addressed Ramses, and the Primarchs who followed him.

Before coming to Phoenix to take up his post, Arthur's earnest teachings made him feel like a junior going far away to work, as he was trying to unify the Broken Legion and reorganize the Third Legion.

"It's just a matter of opening a portal and walking a few steps; someone will pay for the travel expenses."

Ramses waved his hand in reply, the meaning of which was self-evident.

You see, everyone can come to your inauguration ceremony, so there's no reason why they can't come at other times, right?

"Once the war in the Misty Starfield stabilizes, the inspection team led by Ryan will regularly patrol various starfields, covering both external and internal threats, and this process will become routine."

Arthur smiled and reminded him, "You'd better be prepared."

The qualities of dark angels make them perfectly suited to be judges and overseers, an identity that countless lion cubs would covet more than that of an anonymous executioner.

This advanced cosmic military unit's exaggerated dedication to their mission allows them to carry out many troublesome tasks efficiently without worrying about being bribed.

"They really made the best use of everything."

Fugrim smiled and shook his head.

He discovered that the Dawnwings were really good at getting a Primarch to do what they wanted him to do.

He greeted each person who came in, then turned to look at the reveling crowd below, as if trying to etch the scene into his mind.

Among the more unassuming groups of representatives from various organizations, there were even some Eldar.

Although the Eldar's military system and ruling class are highly integrated with Great Alteramar, they are part of the galactic plan of the Imperial Council, which some have jokingly referred to as the Third Reich.

However, Eldar civilian organizations tend to choose to come to this development zone, which is closer to the center of the galaxy.

The Eldar have very simple ideas.

Fogrem is handsome.

Actually, the best choice is still the Dawn Sector. There are two other stars as handsome as them, in the warp and their most loyal sun.

However, considering that there aren't enough people to live there, and that the area is currently attracting people in a lot of spaces, we opted for the Xinxing Development Zone as a second choice.

After all, these ordinary people don't have to think about ambitious issues every day, and they still have the freedom to follow their hearts and pursue what they like.

"how do you feel?"

Guilliman also stepped forward and asked Fogrem if he had any opinions about this planet that was the center of logistics, industrial production, culture and politics, but his eyes inadvertently glanced at the blade of the sword at Fogrem's waist.

His time with the Dawnwings made him fully realize the importance of having a mouth. Many things went wrong in the past because there was no communication between the Primarchs. As a result, although the Primarchs had deep feelings for their brothers because of the emptiness in their hearts, they never really understood each other and were like familiar strangers.

But coming from Guilliman, it didn't sound like he was seeking his brother's opinion; it sounded more like he was showing off.

Look how successful I am at running this business, brother. You should work hard too!

"very good."

Having long been influenced by Hell's jokes and knowing exactly what kind of person Guilliman was, Vograim suppressed the urgency brought on by that stereotype, awkwardly swallowed the sarcasm that was about to come out of his mouth, and then praised him.

Although he did have some objections, now was clearly not the time to bring them up.

"."

Guilliman, clearly feeling awkward, was obviously not very happy.

He had been desperately trying to get rid of that label that did him no good, but clearly, that damn label was welded to his forehead.

Even now, with Guilliman's desire to return to Alteramar to farm no secret, Forgrim still has to grapple with a mix of ambition and good intentions.

His lips trembled slightly, but in the end he said nothing.

Fugrim didn't continue the topic. Instead, he used the psionic techniques he had learned during this time to silently move through those public places with his companions.

Guilliman's plan for this planet was perfect.

The meticulous process planning, the aesthetically pleasing urban infrastructure, and the highly efficient population planning methods.

At first, Fugrim just wanted to fight, even under the supervision of the Dawnwings. But he didn't expect that not only would he be guided by everyone to easily pass the test, but he would also be directly assigned the rule of a composite sector.

Next, Forgrim thought he would be taking over a sector that was yet to be developed, but he did not expect it to be a core that had already developed to a considerable extent and needed to convert resources into actual weaponry.

Honestly, surprises never stop.

Soon, a small incident caught his attention.

This place offers a panoramic view of most of the planet and is also the very center of the Phoenix Gate.

Tourists gather, especially at this grand moment, everyone wants to record this moment, and at the same time, record their own existence.

The emergence of demand naturally leads to competition, and proper arrangements can mask this competition. However, unexpected events can always bring out the flaws again.

Clumsy children waste too much time.

The people who had been waiting for so long became dissatisfied.

But then came the coordination of the staff, with Astartes on patrol volunteering to help.

The conflict lasted only a short time before being handled appropriately. Staff provided food, managed the flow of people for a period of time, and indicated to the child and her parents that they should wait a little longer.

The two sides briefly exchanged their needs and opinions, and then the meeting ended.

It was a very small thing; on this planet with hundreds of billions of people, it was just a tiny spark bursting from among countless interlocking gears.

However, this small accident was observed by the Primarch in the distance.

Fugrim finally understood where that faint feeling of unease he had felt earlier came from.

Everything was too perfect.

The entire planet is like a high-speed, precision instrument.

And now, a small accident has occurred in front of him.

Yes, a slight oversight, a touch of unexpected curiosity sparked by desire.

An error.

In the process of searching, we must not ignore the scenery around us. Life is not just one main road, but also has countless side roads and scenic spots. If only the former existed, how monotonous it would be. We must learn to contact, see, discover, and embrace.
When he noticed that this minor disturbance was quickly resolved without the intervention of the Primarch, he fell into deep thought.

The important thing is not the occurrence of these imperfect episodes, but the subsequent correction of these mistakes.

Ordinary people are willing to offer their opinions, the parties to the conflict are willing to resolve the issues, and Astartes is willing to humble itself and provide assistance.

"Because if a child never makes mistakes and doesn't need adults to take care of or teach him, is he still a child?"

Fulgrim pondered the history of the Dawnwing, the education he had received in his brief time, and the lessons left behind by several corrupted Primarchs.

If everything were predictable, life would be meaningless.

If one person could always solve all problems alone and perfect everything, then the existence of the human race would be meaningless.

They, he, each of them is still a child growing up.

The warriors of the Emperor's Sons once felt uncomfortable being touched by a filthy commoner.

At that moment, Fograim knelt down on one knee, reached out to help the victim stand up, and told his sons about his past experiences.

“I started from scratch. I worked hard in the pits of the quarry and crawled around in the deepest mine.”

"But you look down on them, you are blind to the beauty of their struggle, and you are blind to what they may become."

"If someone helps them and scrapes the dirt off their faces, what will they look like?"

A group of people wiped away the dirt from each other, ultimately achieving a harmonious win-win situation. Without the direct intervention of the Primarch, the machine that encompassed the entire planet continued to operate stably.

So, if he were willing to lower his head and let others wipe the dirt off his face, what would he look like?

When his brothers erase his stains with the trust they have built up over the years, how can he repay them?
What will the future of humanity be like?
Fugrim suddenly understood the phrase "seeing through appearances to the essence."

He turned around, looking at the group of brothers who seemed completely unconcerned about the conflict, listening to their laughter, and seeing Guilliman's flushed face.

Robert Guilliman was once a true idealist, and none of his brothers envisioned a bright future with such hope as he did.

Idealists seem to be in the majority now.

Not only for Astartes, but also for humanity.

Fugrim looked down at the earth beneath the sky, savoring this seemingly illusory moment.

A chance to start over?

A provocation against that corrupted being in the warp?
His own arrogant behavior?

None of this matters.

Only one thing matters.

Whether I believe it or not, I have to believe it.

just now.

Under the watchful eyes of countless sons of emperors, and under the almost dazed gazes of the ancient sage Rellano and Taviz, among others.

He approached the girl who was clumsily climbing to the top, asked the waiting parents for their opinions, then reached out and lifted the girl up, turning her towards the magnificent earth.

The girl smiled and clapped, showing no fear of the giant.

"Lord of the Phoenix!"

The crowd continued to cheer.

"Lord of the Phoenix!"
-

Clang!
The sound of a mirror shattering.

In Slaanesh’s palace, Fugen was suddenly awakened from his deep dream of pleasure.

Its murky gaze emerged from the thick fog, drawn instinctively to the mirror not far away.

A figure, as if sculpted, stood before me.

It was startled at first, then hurriedly got up from the bed, its long, swaying snake tail coming to the rolling magic mirror.

It stretched out its hand, still bearing traces of unknown flesh and blood.
"Who is this?!"

It demanded sharply, its throat still tinged with a hoarse, lucid tone.

The lights flickered, and the curtains swayed.

The figure entered the hall in a blur.

Its appearance was so perfect as to be almost unreal, as if it had awakened from a mirror from a distant past.

"I am Voldemort, Lord of the Third Legion—"

Amidst the fluttering tulip petals, the majestic, purple-gold figure, surrounded by its brothers, solemnly swears an oath to the people.

It was a grand ceremony that encompassed the entire planet.

In the sky, a magnificent curtain hanging from the firmament is inscribed with the blessings of countless people.

On the earth, crowds surged like waves, and the purple-gold legion was like the most dazzling gem among endless tassels.

It stared directly at the face that was exactly like its own, yet untainted by chaos.

"Who is this?!"

bump!
A sword blade stained with an unknown liquid slammed into the mirror that was displaying images of the real universe.

Countless lustful demons awoke with a start, scrambling up from the translucent leather bed while wiping the filth from their bodies, and curiously looking at Fugen, who had suddenly fallen into boundless rage.

"How dare he!"

The piercing cries echoed throughout Slaanesh's palace, filled with boundless jealousy and rage.

"How dare he!"
-

The sacred and magnificent Primarch Return Ceremony has concluded. Lord of the Phoenix, Forgrim, has been sworn in as Governor of the New Star Development Zone, focusing on leading the region's development and the construction of the Astartes Legion.

Robert Guilliman places great emphasis on regional economic and developmental progress, stressing the need to promote regional security, address integration with the Eldar, reduce border friction, establish an efficient response system for the planet's primary defense forces, build stable communication channels with the Undead, further strengthen border defenses, and remain vigilant against the Tyranid invasion.

[The Knightsmaster Arthur Pendragon, representing the Wings of Dawn, delivers a speech, stating that humanity has gradually transitioned from mere survival to a fulfilling existence, symbolizing the most fruitful results achieved in a century under the leadership of humanity as the dominant force and the Primarchs at its core.]

To ensure the further development of human society and defend the right to life, humanity must remain vigilant. Dawn Star will further promote the modernization of its military, shifting its focus from quantity-based to quality- and efficiency-based operations.

The Overlord Romulus emphasized the threatening nature of the Eldar, defining them as a cancer on the galaxy that must be eradicated, and ordered all regions to rigorously screen missing persons and monitor for any signs of Eldar activity.

[Lion King, Ryan Eljonsson has concluded the crisis management of the Kronos Expansion Zone in the Misty Starfield. The crisis has ended with 13 planets suffering extinction orders and 4 medium-sized insect hive fleets being destroyed. All merchants, rogues, and their pioneering fleets are urged to stay away from this area to avoid being affected by the post-war cleanup operations.]

woohoo~
The fan blades of the ventilation ducts churned up the frigid air from Fenris.

As Nigel the Windcaller traveled via the network to Fenris's fleet, listening to the announcements broadcast over the radio, he looked at a document handed to him by Eldar on behalf of the Imperial Council.

[Imperial Regent Robert Guilliman signed the official document.]

Nigel the Windcaller, the Space Wolf Rune Priest, has spent the past 13 years gaining a deep understanding and learning of the psionic system. He has absorbed and properly applied the knowledge of new-age psionic applications, achieving outstanding results in the practical application of psionic energy, and has received high praise from the Lord of Light, Ramses.

The Imperial Council has now convened a meeting and its Senior Human Resources Department has decided, in light of Nigel the Windcaller's outstanding performance during his studies at Dawnwing, to recommend him to return to Fenris to assume administrative management of the psionic system and to conduct psionic education and training.

Note: This document is for notification purposes only. The specific documents and think tank materials have been formally submitted to Fenris for a final decision.

"."

At this moment, Nigel, the Space Wolf Rune Priest Master who was the first to obtain clues about the Wolf King and was preparing to share them with the pack in order to win the leadership of this operation, froze.

tick~
Mead dripped down his beard.

Clang!

One second he was in high spirits because of the clues about the Wolf King, and he wanted to rush into the net channel to beat up Qianzi and squeeze the Wolf King out of their ashes. Nigar, who was kneeling on the ground, was sitting there.

Do not! ! !
(End of this chapter)