Warhammer 40: Doom

Chapter 345 Lady Clara
The Milky Way and its constellations are ever-changing, and time flows forward like a torrent.

Under the guidance of Saint Gilles, the Ninth Legion became the "Angels of Holy Blood".

The Astartes use this name to commemorate their reunion with the Father of Genetics, to demonstrate their determination to change, to break free from their dark past, and to take the Archangel as their role model to reshape their souls that have fallen into the abyss.

The disciplined and honor-conscious Shadowmoon Wolf, together with the Holy Blood Angel yearning for new life, embark on a path of conquest.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the Milky Way, in the prosperous and open Nur constellation, the assessment concerning the future development of the military is about to come to an end after fierce competition.

Over two years, and after countless cross-assessments, many outstanding individuals emerged and were assigned to key positions to shine.

Today, Doom sits on his solemn throne, receiving guests who have traveled from afar.

A handsome Astartes, clad in crimson power armor, had exquisite reliefs engraved on his shoulder armor—dripping crimson blood extending into pure white wings.

He comes from the reborn Holy Blood Angels, a messenger of the Archangels, who came to the Nur Stars to deliver the Primarch's letter of homage.

"Great King of Warriors." The messenger, Amarans, knelt down, holding a tray in his hands containing a parchment envelope sealed with wax.

As a Primarch messenger, his voice was clear and resonant, full of warmth: "The Archangel plans to visit your realm in one Terran month from now. Do you agree to his arrival?"

The attendant took the visiting card and presented it to the table in the dum, so that the master of the Nur Stars could open it personally.

Doom took out a lacquer knife, carefully cut open the sealing wax seal, and as he pulled out the letter, a pure white feather came out along with the letter.

He recognized at a glance that these pure feathers must be new wing feathers from Saint Gilles, sent with the letter tucked inside, showing the brother's sincerity and importance in displaying them.

Doom picked up a feather and twirled it in his hand, carefully considering the messages that had recently come from the stars.

The Legion of the Dead rose to prominence, shedding its past infamy under the leadership of Saint Gilles, and the name "Holy Blood Angels" replaced its former title of "Ghouls".

Although he had guided Saint Gilles back, the two did not have much interaction in terms of friendship, and he was afraid that the angel's purpose in visiting was not to reminisce.

After a moment's thought, Doom glanced at the kneeling Amarans, picked up the folded letter, and began to examine his brother's intentions.

The letter began in a very formulaic way, simply stating that after a long separation, he had come to visit with his legion to rekindle the feelings he had shared when they first met.

The middle section consists of polite greetings and well wishes, and it's not until near the end that the purpose of the visit is mentioned.

Doom narrowed his eyes slightly, realizing why the angel had come.

“A messenger from afar,” he said, his voice booming as he sat at the far end of the palace, responding to the invitation: “Please go back and tell my brothers that the stars of Nur welcome his arrival.”

The angel did indeed have a deeper purpose, and after thinking it over, Doom agreed to accept Saint Gilles' visit.

What Saint Gilles asked for was not difficult for the Nur Stars; it was just a matter of lifting a finger.

Whether out of a desire to help or to reminisce, Doom welcomed his brother's arrival; after all, Loxi also looked forward to meeting the Archangel.

"The Holy Blood Angel thanks you for your generous acceptance." Amarans' face lit up with joy, feeling fortunate to have successfully completed the Legion's first mission outside the Legion.

"Go down, someone will arrange your accommodations." Doom waved the messenger away, then added, "If you're interested, you can go to the Grand Arena to watch the finals begin."

"Praise be to the King of Warriors!" Amarans offered his respectful blessing, then slowly rose to leave.

The transparent floor beneath his feet projected beacons, guiding the messenger to a designated diplomatic area.

Amarans was secretly amazed. Although he had heard that Nur was technologically advanced, it was all hearsay. Only after experiencing it firsthand did he realize that the rumors were far from enough to describe its great achievements.

"My lord, where are you going?" As soon as he stepped out of the palace, a beautiful attendant was already waiting for him. She asked the distinguished guest who had come from afar with neither servility nor arrogance.

Amarans immediately understood that this was the person specifically assigned to escort him, and quickly put on a smile and said, "Go to the diplomatic staff quarters first to remove your armor, then go to the arena to watch the match."

"Please follow me." The attendant returned the greeting with a polite smile, extremely elegant, and gestured for the distinguished guest.

He quickly followed, observing as he walked—a habit he had developed while serving in the Legion.

He enjoyed himself here. Mortals had no awe for Astartes and were not surprised to see it; they would glance at it and then look away.

On the contrary, the Night Guards patrolling with their mechanical hounds would raise their arms to check the relevant information upon seeing a Space Marine, and after confirming that everything was correct, they would bow and leave. "What's your name?" Amarans, finding the journey too boring, asked the slender and graceful attendant before him in an elegant low voice.

The attendant who had led the way turned around, her beautiful profile showing surprise; few people would ask attendants such questions.

Despite being caught off guard, she smiled, displaying her excellent professionalism: "I come from the warrior family—Camilla."

“Ms. Camilla?” Amarans nodded and said with a touch of humor, “What an elegant name.”

"Thank you for your praise," Camilla replied politely, a smile beyond mere politeness appearing on her face as she was complimented by the handsome warrior.

The two, one after the other, chatted casually as they boarded the high-speed train, heading towards their destination.

On the high-speed train, Amarans saw several tall figures. They were not wearing power armor, but were covered in fur, with reddish-brown hair and wild appearances. They were gathered at the end of the train carriage.

They are wild and untamed, with no manners whatsoever and no concern for the opinions of others. They sit sprawled out in a row, and burst into loud laughter during their conversations.

Amarans recognized them; they were barbarians from the Sixth Legion—the Space Wolves.

The Primarch Messenger frowned. He instinctively wanted to keep his distance. The Blood Angels were no longer what they used to be; they were extremely particular about their personal conduct and did not want to get mixed up with their cousins.

"Let's go to another carriage." Camilla noticed the displeasure on the distinguished guest's face, glanced at the end of the carriage, and immediately made a new arrangement.

Amarans nodded and followed the attendant to the next carriage.

"Yo~yo~yo~"

However, as he turned around, he heard a frivolous greeting behind him, which made him think to himself, "This is bad."

"Isn't this our cousin, the 'Holy Blood Angel'?"

The wolves spotted the angel with keen interest, their beastly eyes gleaming. They surrounded the angel from the end of the carriage, their bodies swaying as they blocked her path.

Camilla's expression hardened. She stepped forward to shield the distinguished guests behind her and said sternly, "Gentlemen, please respect my work!"

The wolves immediately quieted down, restrained their movements, and stopped making any overly joyful gestures.

Amarans was shocked. He knew all too well how audacious the Space Wolf's cousin was, so how could he be subdued by a lady?
“Madam, please relax.” A man with brown hair and an apologetic look on his young face stepped out from among the wolves: “I am Little Wolf Bjorn, and my brothers and I mean no harm.”

Bjorn extended his hands, speaking in a low voice, trying to convey goodwill and prevent the woman from taking any extreme actions.

As the wolf king's favorite "little wolf," he was ordered to come to the Nur Stars to place new supply orders, but he didn't want to cause any unnecessary trouble.

The seemingly frail woman before me had already placed her hand on her family crest, preparing to summon the Night Guards for backup...

Having a close relationship with the stars of Nuerqun, Bjorn certainly understood what this gesture meant.

The woman didn't want to go public with the situation, as it would affect her reputation, and wanted a member of her family to come and handle the current predicament alone.

Bjorn quickly lowered his stance, not wanting to be thrown out of the Nur Stars by the Night Guard.

Seeing that he was still quite polite, Camilla breathed a sigh of relief and was about to leave with her esteemed guest when the wolf pack in front of her suddenly changed their expression!
At the entrance of the high-speed train, a young man walked up in a panic. He was thin, his face was as pale as paper, and his eyes were bloodshot with panic.

The wolves' arm hairs stood on end; their animal instincts sensed danger, and they pulled their cousin and the lady back.

Amarans did not resist, and stretched out his arms to protect Camilla, and left under the protection of the wolves.

When the young man saw that there were people in the car, he looked visibly flustered, but when he saw the tall figures of the group, he smiled with relief.

"Get out of the way!" he growled, shooing the crowd away. He took off his earring and threw it into a deserted corner of the train.

The Space Marines, with their extraordinary vision, saw the earring undergo an incredible transformation, eventually expanding into a spherical bomb.

The young man did not flee; instead, he rushed towards Bjorn and the others, tears of joy streaming from his bloodshot eyes, his voice filled with urgency: "I am guilty! Arrest me! Let me break free from Lady Clara's mind control!"

(End of this chapter)