Lorgar had read every book in the library, hoping to find more clues. Out of thousands of volumes, only two contained anything useful.
One was The Travels of Jason, whose hidden clue referred to the Golden Fleece.
The other was King of the Swift Dragon, whose hidden clue referred to the Golden Ram.
Both were ancient fairy tales. The Travels of Jason described the geography of Colchis and had little to do with Jason himself. King of the Swift Dragon told of a beast lurking beneath the sands.
Each book contained hidden clues, and both mentioned a single location: the place where the Sky City fell, the Pit of Sorrow.
If the Sky City of the ancients was the "Golden Ram," then the resemblance to the legend was striking.
In the myth, the Golden Ram carried Phrixus across land and sea, only to be slaughtered by him later.
Likewise, the Sky City carried the ancient people before crashing down upon the land.
The dragon guarded the oak tree where the Golden Fleece hung, just as the Swift Dragon King lay sleeping beneath the ruins of the Sky City. Every element mirrored another perfectly.
Erebus and Nairo stacked piles of books into a pit of sand they had dug. Trembling, Akshida poured oil over them while Lorgar lit the fire.
People stood in a circle around the burning pit, some mournful, others terrified, as the flames devoured those precious tomes.
Erebus, however, felt no sorrow. He had long since ceased to believe in gods.
As Lorgar put it, the library contained many priceless treasures, but not those toxic religious texts that poisoned humanity.
"That's all of them," Erebus said.
The flames twisted and writhed before his eyes like serpents' tongues, greedily licking at the yellowed pages. The parchment curled and blackened in the heat; the words that once recorded faith turned to ash, rising in spirals with the hot wind, until Colchis's dry breeze scattered them into nothing.
"Then what's that in your hand?" Lorgar asked.
Erebus froze. He lifted his hand and realized he was holding a book.
His pupils contracted sharply; cold sweat trickled down his back.
"No, this isn't… I didn't-"
He was certain he had thrown all of them into the fire. He didn't remember picking this one up!
"Calm down. I know it wasn't you," Lorgar said softly.
Slender fingers rested gently on Erebus's trembling hand as Lorgar took the book from him.
It was unlike the others. Its pages weren't paper but thin, translucent sheets, like crystal or plastic.
Each one was flawlessly smooth, untouched by time or pressure.
Its writing was unlike any language, neither the modern cuneiform of Colchis nor the script of the ancients. No known tongue matched it.
Given enough time, Lorgar could have translated it, but he didn't.
Because he knew what lay ahead was an abyss, and he refused to take that step.
The wind rustled, turning the pages on its own. Vivid illustrations filled with color and motion appeared before him: delicate figures locked in ritual gestures, radiant with divine symbolism.
Lorgar could feel it; the book contained the truth of the entire universe.
Once incomprehensible, its words now seemed alive, flowing not as symbols, but as pure thought.
If he opened it, those truths would pour into his mind. He could know the secrets of the cosmos, discover the elixir to cure all ills, and wield unimaginable power.
The painted figures gazed at him sorrowfully, as if pleading for compassion. Even the hardest heart would soften before such eyes.
All he had to do was open it, and everything would be his.
Reason told him it was real.
Emotion told him the gods were honest; they would give him what they promised.
And he would pay nothing.
Erebus, even from a glance, nearly lost himself to it.
A voice in his head whispered: 'Take it. Seize it from Lorgar. You can have everything you've ever wanted. You could be the gods' chosen… even Caelan-'
"No!" Erebus tore his gaze away. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth; he had bitten his tongue.
"Lies."
Lorgar released the book. It fell into the flames and was swallowed instantly by fire.
"Step back," Lorgar ordered coldly.
The people froze, awakening from a trance, sweat dripping down their backs.
They had nearly thrown themselves into the flames to save the gods' manuscript.
Lorgar's eyes remained fixed on Caelan. The violet in his irises reflected his teacher's gentle smile, warm as dawn breaking through Colchis's endless storms. Even Lorgar's frozen expression began to thaw.
Caelan said, "You smiled."
"Yes," Lorgar nodded.
Caelan blinked in surprise.
"What's wrong?" Lorgar asked.
"I asked Curze the same question once."
"What did he say?"
"He denied it at first. But when I sighed, he apologized and admitted he had."
"Then I'm more honest than him," Lorgar said.
"That's true," Caelan agreed.
Lorgar laughed, genuinely, joyfully. For the first time, Caelan had admitted he was better than his brother. That would be the key to surpassing him.
His brother might have come first, but that didn't matter. Not to Lorgar.
What mattered was who could make Caelan stay.
He didn't hide his emotions, not even before hundreds of followers.
He wanted everyone to see, because sincerity was the one thing that could make him greater than his brother.
All eyes turned to Lorgar, filled with a mix of despair, grief, and faint, painful hope.
Their faith had turned to ash, scattered like black butterflies dancing through the firelight.
Lorgar looked at them and spoke with calm, resonant conviction:
"I am no messenger of the gods, nor will I lead you to divine salvation.
I am humanity's savior."
"What I bring you is a revolution, to shatter ignorance and lies."
"Blessing is a lie. Faith is a shackle."
"The gods deceive the world with lies and bind mortals with chains, then cloak themselves in glory and devotion."
"If you follow me, I will show you the truth: there are no gods, and there is no need for faith."
"In this revolution, mankind loses only its chains. But what we gain… is the entire world."
"Are we going deeper into the desert?" Erebus asked.
"No," Lorgar replied. "We turn back. Searching for the outcasts blindly is too inefficient. Even their tribes don't know where the others are. We need to raise a banner, one that will make them come to us."
"What kind of banner?" Erebus asked.
"Rebellion against the Covenant."
Erebus frowned. "You realize most of this world's population follows the Covenant? Vharadesh alone has a million believers."
"Vharadesh doesn't just have a million believers, it has three million slaves," Lorgar said. "The Covenant hoards the world's wealth and land. But if we overthrow it and give the fields to the slaves and the outcasts, they'll join us."
History had proved it time and again: give land to the poor, and they would fight for you.
Napoleon gave land to the peasants, so they followed him across Europe.
The Union gave land to northern farmers, and they fought to preserve it.
Erebus said, "But we only have a thousand people, and barely a hundred trained soldiers. We can't even take a small town."
"With me and Caelan, we will," Lorgar said.
"With me?" Caelan raised an eyebrow.
"Why not?" Lorgar asked, eyes bright with expectation.
Caelan chuckled, "Curze didn't ask for my help when he liberated Nostramo."
"Because he didn't need you. But I do."
Though Caelan suspected Lorgar was subtly mocking Curze, he nodded. "Fine. Just tell me when you need me."
He hadn't helped Curze because he didn't want to steal a Primarch's glory. Curze had earned it himself, rising from the depths to rule his world.
But with Lorgar speaking so earnestly, Caelan couldn't bring himself to refuse.
Erebus frowned. "And what about faith? How do you plan to destroy theirs?"
"The simplest way is to replace faith with another faith, but mankind must be freed from its poison. We'll burn every sacred text, and purge belief itself in fire. If they refuse to abandon faith, then they'll burn with it."
Trantis, a mining city 140 kilometers from the Covenant capital of Vharadesh.
Its people dug granite from beneath the earth and shipped it by rail to the Covenant's coastal cities.
Watchtowers lined the red walls, their jagged shadows stretching across the barren sand.
As Lorgar's massive land-barge approached, the guards struck alarms; the mirrored lenses atop the towers flashed with warning light.
"They don't look very welcoming," Erebus muttered.
Caelan rapped him on the head. "We're invading them, and you expect a warm reception?"
Erebus looked down, hiding a smirk.
Lorgar noticed but said nothing. "They're coming," he murmured.
Dozens of armored vehicles rolled out of the gates, their steam engines roaring like beasts. The machines streaked across the sands, forming a fan-shaped formation around Lorgar's caravan.
Panic spread among his followers; their solar skiffs and sand-boats couldn't withstand a single shell.
"I want them," Lorgar said suddenly, eyes gleaming. "Can we keep them intact?"
Caelan sighed. "That's like asking me to pull out someone's organs without tearing the skin."
Lorgar tilted his head innocently. "Can't you?"
"…I'll try," Caelan groaned. "But first, tell me, why do you need these vehicles?"
"We can't rule the world by our strength alone," Lorgar said, tapping his chin. "We need an army, one that can fight without dying by the thousands. We must arm them."
Caelan nodded. "I'll stop their shells. You figure out how to capture them intact."
The Covenant's armored crawlers raised a green flag of negotiation.
"Do we respond?" Lorgar asked.
"Your decision," Caelan replied. "I won't rule for you. You have to learn that yourself."
"No matter what I decide, you'll support me… right?" Lorgar asked softly.
"That depends on whether your choice serves my interests."
Lorgar smiled, eyes shining like stars.
"Our interests will always align."
That smile, bright, sincere, childlike, made even Caelan look away.
"Erebus," Lorgar said, "signal them to stop. Let's talk."
The great barge slowed to a halt, raising a green triangular flag.
The Covenant soldiers disembarked, bronze armor glinting under the harsh sun, long robes fluttering like dry grass.
At their head stood a woman in golden power armor inlaid with rubies. Her curved blade and sidearm shimmered with runes of blue light.
"I am Hal Espaea, Commandant of the Third Holy Tower! Halt your advance! You are forbidden from entering Trantis, or I will condemn you for heresy!"
Her voice, amplified by her helmet, echoed across the sands.
A shadow leapt down from the deck, landing in a burst of dust.
Weapons were raised instantly.
"I am Lorgar," he said softly, walking forward. "I've come to talk."
When Espaea's gaze met those violet, divine eyes, she trembled.
"Wh-what do you want?" she asked, voice quivering.
"Truth," Lorgar said. "And liberation."
He remembered the stories Caelan told of his brother Curze, hands drenched in blood, slaughtering thousands to remake the world.
Lorgar understood him, but he would not imitate him. Curze ruled through fear and violence.
Lorgar sought understanding. To him, dialogue was stronger than war.
Just as it was between him and Caelan, built on honesty, not chains.
"What truth?" Espaea whispered.
"The gods weave lies from faith," Lorgar said, voice calm and radiant. "They promise eternity, yet bind you in chains. They preach salvation, but bring only suffering."
"I will bring you liberation."
.....
If you enjoy the story, my p@treon is 30 chapters ahead.
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