Warhammer 40: Doom

Chapter 146 The Last Tenderness
Doom held the Oath Crown with one hand, slowly rotating it to examine each name engraved on the inside.

Twelve names, these names symbolize the initial honor and the unwavering determination for all ages.

Now that it has been handed over to me, it is not only a return of the royal symbol, but also my father's final approval.

Doom felt a lump in his throat, raised his hand to rub his eyes, and suppressed the rising bitterness. His father had given him his last bit of tenderness.

With the redness in his eyes fading, Doom fiddled with the crown and said in a relaxed tone, "It's a little small."

That being said, the crown of oaths is not worn on the head; it is the tangible embodiment of upholding the oath.

“It is indeed a bit small.” Xi Lan pondered for a moment, then said slowly, “compared to your current achievements.”

Recalling Doom's achievements, Xilan felt somewhat disrespectful, but could not deny the fact that no King of Norwick had ever surpassed him.

He hesitated for a moment, then smiled and said, "I've finally finished all the work."

"Is there anything else?" Doom keenly noticed the hesitation between Xilan's brows.

"call……"

Upon hearing Doom's question, a resolute glint flashed in Xilan's eyes, and she finally made up her mind, "Please give it to him."

He reached into his robe, took out a letter, and handed it to the king before him.

The cover reads: "To be opened by Harlan Oglieve."

"After my death, you shall personally deliver it to him."

The old man was still worried and instructed Doom again, "It must be given to him only after I die."

Unless absolutely necessary, Xilan is even reluctant to say Harlan's name, simply replacing it with "he".

Reaching out to take the letter, I could feel the thickness of the paper with my fingertips; it must have been filled with countless words.

Doom's eyes lit up; the subject of the letter wasn't hard to guess.

This stubborn old man kept a thousand words stuck in his heart during his lifetime, and in the end, he only dared to convey them through death.

Seeing that Doom accepted the letter with a solemn expression, yet couldn't hide the mockery in his eyes, Xilan blushed.

He immediately realized that the young king might hand over the letter ahead of time.

"Please promise me, it must be after my death!"

Xi Lan looked anxious and reminded him again. He couldn't imagine how smug Harlan would be after receiving the letter before he died.

“I beg you,” he hurriedly knelt on one knee, his tearful eyes fixed on Doom, “this useless old man’s only request!”

“You don’t need to do that.” Doum hurriedly went to Lashilan to help the old man up, saying, “I agree to your request, there’s no need for this.”

“No…” Xi Lan gently shook his head and refused to be helped up. He knelt down and said, “Forgive my overstepping.”

"Please swear that you will give it to him after I die."

A flicker of hesitation crossed Doom's eyes, but he ultimately relented, placing his right hand over his chest and speaking with a serious expression:
“I swear in the name of Norwick that you will never hand over the letter to Harlan O’Grivi before you die.”

"Thank you." Xilan smiled through her tears, quickly helped Doum to her feet, and looked completely relaxed.

"Now that things have come to this, it's time for me to leave."

He stood up and slowly retreated, pointing to the letter in the box: "You still have some things to take care of."

Xi Lan bowed respectfully, retreated to the center of the main hall, picked up her sword and staff, and left happily.

Having laid down his heavy burden, his steps became incredibly light, and he walked with a brisk, almost swift gait.

Doom's expression was somewhat complicated. He clutched the heavy letter in his hand and shook his head helplessly as he watched the departing figure walk away.

He set the letter aside, took out the sealing wax envelope from the wooden box, and carefully unsealed it.

"To Doom Norwick, my most anticipated son."

After reading the first sentence of the letter, Doom smiled and continued reading, carefully reading every word.

"When you read this letter, your mother and I will no longer be in this world. You don't need to be sad or upset. We have long since seen through life and death."

Your future is long, and we won't be by your side, so please remember to take good care of yourself.

Doom watched, the redness that had faded from his eyes returning, his expression changing several times before he shook his head with a bitter smile.

"As for leading the people of Nur out of their predicament and back to the stars, I believe you have succeeded."

I have never doubted that; you have never let me down.

However, the universe and stars are magnificent and infinitely beautiful, but they also harbor hidden dangers, so we must face them with caution.

My wisdom is limited to Nur, and I cannot offer you any other advice.

But I believe that after you come into contact with the profound universe and the complexities of human nature, you will have independent understanding and perspectives, and establish new values.

You will also make new friends, travel with them, and build deep friendships.

Your life is destined to be incredibly wonderful; on the canvas of the universe, you are destined to leave a vibrant and memorable mark...

I won't say too much; my love for you is too much to convey in a letter, and a single sheet of paper can't contain it all. Finally—may you forget your sorrow and stride confidently into the future.

—Your loving father will always love you, and your caring mother will always love you.

As Doom read the letter, tears streamed down his face, dripping onto the table.

Overwhelmed by emotion, a soft, longing murmur echoed through the empty hall: "Father... Mother..."

The hall remained silent for a long time, the warriors' vulnerability and sorrow spreading silently before finally settling down.

Doom composed himself, sat on the throne, and smiled proudly. He had always been his father's greatest hope and pride.

He moved with exceptional gentleness, folded the letter back up, and placed it in the storage compartment on his desk.

"Damn chaos!"

Thinking of how his parents died, Doom clenched his fists and gritted his teeth in hatred. His anger surged, and he was determined to make the Four Gods pay for their blood debt.

"Sophia, take me here." He opened the desktop map, pointed to a certain point, and left the throne room, his anger blazing.

As the teleportation light shone, Doom's figure disappeared, instantly arriving on the surface of Nur.

He came to the ravines of the Crystal Mountains and headed to the Crystal Cave, where he needed the ancient saints to answer some questions.

"Wow~"

A screech came from the sky, and the Crystal Falcon quickly spotted Doom, folding its wings and landing steadily on his shoulder.

"Hello, it's been a long time," Doom greeted, raising his hand to let the falcon rest on his arm before striding toward the Ancient Cave.

The ancient sages already knew of his arrival, and the crystal cave slowly opened, revealing a path leading to its depths.

The scenery along the way was extraordinary; within infinite dimensions, one could even see creatures from other dimensions.

“Elder.” Doom raised his hand and sent the falcon back to its perch.

He sat cross-legged on the ground and greeted the large toad lying on the bed smoking, covered with a blanket: "I'm bothering you again."

"Speak," Prima, the Forger of Life, said, half-closing her eyes and savoring the aroma of tobacco. "What is it this time?"

The ancient sage was too lazy to look at Dum and continued to puff away on his cigarette. This kid never comes to the temple without a reason.

Either acquire knowledge or help solve problems.

Doom watched as the ancient saint shook its head repeatedly, utterly languid and half-asleep, as if its remaining life consisted only of smoking.

The toad's head was buried in psychedelic smoke, exhaling through its mouth and inhaling through its nose, savoring each puff of smoke repeatedly.

"Please take a look at this." He didn't stand on ceremony, raising his left arm to summon a shield from another dimension: "Are there any safety concerns?"

Doom never trusted the Necromancers of space, and to ensure he could use the shield with peace of mind in the future, he took advantage of this return to have the elder examine it.

"Fragments of the Star God?" Prima looked up and her sleepy eyes instantly lit up. She sat up from the low bed. "Forged from fragments of the Burner."

The ancient sage and the star god had fought for many years and knew each other very well. It recognized which star god's fragment it was.

Prima looked closely and noticed Doom's left glove, which was connected to the shield's aura: "It's a set."

"What a grand gesture, I fear death..."

The ancient sages habitually referred to the undead in space as "the fearful of death," but then, considering the extinction of the fearful of death, they changed their terminology:

"The craftsmanship of the space necromancer remains extraordinary."

It slowly rose, put on its robe, and came to Doom, pulling up its gloves with one hand and stroking the shield with the other.

The ancient sage closed his eyes, focusing his mind on the coldness of the weapon and the star god's power contained within it.

Doom waited quietly, knowing that the elder was experiencing and feeling the rhythm and true meaning of the weapon.

Ancient wisdom transcended the mundane; all complex knowledge was commonplace in the eyes of the ancient sages.

I once heard an elder say that the Jin people, on a philosophical level, grasped a fraction of the ancient sages' ideas, and they also possessed the ability to "return to simplicity and authenticity."

Modern people can create complex things with simple techniques, but the Jin people can achieve the same results with simple techniques.

They can create artificial intelligence with their bare hands, forge advanced technology with a hammer, and explain complex technology in simple ways.

Prima looked delighted, carefully stroking the gloves and shield, nodding slightly from time to time: "What a great idea."

Prima's fingertips traced the shield's surface. As she closed her eyes and concentrated, the pulse of the Star God fragments surged into her senses like an electric current.

After a long pause, it opened its eyes and exclaimed, "To forge weapons from the bones of our enemies... The creativity of those who fear death is extraordinary, it sends chills down one's spine."

"The Star Gods were shattered into pieces and enslaved by the undead in space. It was a fitting retribution, a punishment from fate for their arrogance."

"You can use this weapon with confidence. Most of the Necromancer Kingdoms in space can be considered 'upright and honorable'."

Having received the elder's reply, Doom's worries dissipated. He sheathed his shield and asked with a serious expression:

"Elder, are you familiar with the ways of the internet?"

(My body is recovering; I slept until 6 PM.)
(End of this chapter)