Nocturne had seven Sanctuary Cities, built upon seven stable tectonic plates. These enormous cities were dug deep into the ground, penetrating down to the planet's most solid bedrock.
When Caelan, riding Juno, looked down upon the entire city, he was certain that the current technological level of Nocturne could not have built such magnificent Cities.
Each one must have originated from the Dark Age of Technology, long buried in the river of history.
The construction of the Sanctuary Cities was an immense project, yet the cities contained no technological heritage whatsoever. It seemed as if the local inhabitants' technological level was deliberately restricted to a medieval era.
This artificially imposed technological gap, combined with survival patterns shaped by extreme environmental pressures, made it highly likely that the people of Nocturne were little more than NPCs in a grand theme park.
They were most probably descendants of criminals or clones, knowing nothing of true human civilization.
Their social structure and technological level were tailored for the immersive experience of visitors.
Perhaps during the Dark Age of Technology, Nocturne was a Western fantasy-themed park.
The script involved a Seven Shields Alliance, formed by the seven Sanctuary Cities, jointly fighting against invasions by Dark Aeldars.
Visitors would play the heroes. The summoning ritual would be the teleportation array of an orbiting starship.
The locals could only use ordinary swords, while the heroes possessed exclusive artifacts, such as power swords, plasma wands, and the like.
If they couldn't defeat the Demon King despite their best efforts, they could use forbidden spells. Macro-cannons were meteor-fall spells, and lances were Doomsday Judgment.
Gazing at the magnificent Sanctuary City on the Cindara Plateau, Caelan grew more convinced of his speculation.
As long as civilization was primitive enough, any sufficiently advanced technology was indistinguishable from magic.
"Juno, land outside the city gates."
Caelan gently patted the rough scales. The Salamander King obediently lowered its altitude, its dark red membrane wings casting a suffocating shadow on the ground.
The guards on the wall were the first to notice the anomaly. A crimson giant on the horizon was approaching at terrifying speed.
When those sky-covering wings fully spread, the entire wall section fell into dead silence instantly, followed by heart-wrenching alarm bells.
"The Salamander King! It's the Salamander King!"
Clang! Clang!
The frantic ringing of bronze bells mixed with the crowd's screams. People surged towards the underground like an ant nest disturbed by boiling water. Preparations originally meant for the dusk wraiths now became the only refuge from the aerial predator.
Gorf gripped his spear tightly on the battlement, cold sweat trickling down his waist from under his armor lining.
Nocturne's technology might be backwards, but its people were physically very strong.
In their eyes, the ordinary salamanders were dangerous beasts, but manageable.
But the Salamander King was different.
Those wings allowed it to descend from the sky like death itself, and Nocturnians couldn't fly!
But why was this overlord supposed to dwell in the Mount Deathfire, here? What drove it to Hesiod?
"Could it be that outsider?" Gorf murmured.
Not long ago, an outsider came to Hesiod, learned from the blacksmith N'bel about a meteor falling in Mount Deathfire, and left hastily. Soon after, the Salamander King arrived in Hesiod. These events couldn't be unrelated!
When the Salamander King dove towards the wall, the scorching wind from its wings burned Gorf's face. He stumbled back, his iron helmet clanging against the battlements.
The guards' arrows bounced off its scales. But contrary to expectations, the Salamander King didn't unleash a bloody massacre.
Those slowly folded. It gently landed on the open ground outside the walls.
This giant beast, which struck fear into the hearts of Nocturnians, now lowered its ferocious head submissively. Its thick tail curled obediently at its side, like a tamed beast.
Even more unbelievably, the outsider who claimed to be from Terra sat upright on the Salamander King's broad back, holding a dark-skinned infant in his arms. The infant's crimson eyes curiously examined the guards on the wall.
This scene was so absurd that Gorf dazedly thought he was dreaming.
He subconsciously rubbed his eyes, only to feel the dull pain of iron gauntlets hitting his helmet.
The guards on the wall all froze, their breaths halted. Only the Salamander King's heavy breathing stirred waves of hot air in the silence.
Caelan called, "Gorf, we want to enter the city. Could you open the gates?"
"Yes! Yes! What are you waiting for? Open the gates!" Gorf almost shouted.
The Salamander King's ferocious snout was right there, its crimson vertical pupils coldly staring at him, as if daring him to say no, the next second, he'd be burned to ash by flames.
The guards snapped out of it and frantically turned the winches.
The heavy chains screeched. The massive gates slowly rose.
Yet even with the Salamander King folding those sky-covering wings to its sides, its enormous body was still twice as wide as the gate.
Caelan stroked Juno's scales and looked up at Gorf on the wall: "Is there a place in the city where we can land?"
"You, you can land in the central plaza. It should be empty now." No thought of resistance arose in Gorf's heart, only deep awe.
Only a fool couldn't see that this infamous Salamander King had been tamed by the outsider. Only an idiot would refuse them entry.
Moreover, he could have forced entry with the Salamander King's intimidation, without needing anyone's permission.
Yet he deliberately asked him. This humility and respect were touching, far more effective at winning hearts than force.
With a thunderous roar, the Salamander King flapped its wings. Carried by scorching air currents, it swept over the wall and finally landed on the stone pavement of Hesiod's central plaza.
Sharp claws plowed deep grooves into the stone. Crushed rock scattered in the landing's shockwave.
Gorf led a squad of guards rushing over, but stopped dead fifty meters from the Salamander King.
His throat bobbed with difficulty. The Salamander King's crimson pupils looked down on them from on high, making them all unconsciously hold their breath. Never in their lives had they imagined facing Mount Deathfire's overlord so closely.
"Gorf."
Caelan waved at the constable. "We plan to settle in Hesiod. Could you trouble yourself to arrange suitable lodging for us?"
Gorf unconsciously straightened his back, his voice slightly hoarse with tension: "Of-of course. Please allow me to personally guide you. Hesiod welcomes you!"
A Great Earth Shaman who could tame the Salamander King, his power was far beyond mortal imagination, yet he remained humble. In perilous Nocturne, no city would refuse such a protector.
"Lord Caelan," Gorf unconsciously used an honorific, "shall I notify Blacksmith N'bel for you?"
"Just call me Caelan. As for Blacksmith N'bel, yes, summon him too."
When he entered the city looking for N'bel, he was actually looking for Vulkan. Even if Vulkan wasn't with him, Caelan planned to have Vulkan learn smithing from him. It was part of education.
Gorf lowered his voice to a guard beside him, "Tell the residents to come back. The danger is over. Also, send someone to invite Old N'bel, saying the outsider who asked about the meteor has returned."
...
Hesiod was a magnificent Sanctuary City, its scale far exceeding actual inhabitation needs.
Within the towering walls, empty houses stood in neat rows.
One reason for this was Nocturne's harsh environment, limiting population. Even in relatively stable Sanctuary Cities, food reserves were always stretched thin. Locals had to strictly control the population.
The second reason was that predation by the dusk wraiths also exacerbated population loss.
Gorf personally selected the most magnificent mansion in the city for Caelan. Its courtyard was vast enough for Juno to lazily stretch her wings.
Juno, resting in the courtyard, suddenly raised her ferocious head. Caelan immediately gently touched the Salamander King's consciousness with his psychic power.
"I... hungry..." Juno's thought out.
"Then go hunt. But remember, don't eat people."
Juno let out a low whimper of understanding. Her thick tail swept an arc across the ground.
With a deafening roar, she suddenly unfolded her sky-covering wings and, watched by Caelan, soared into the sky. Her crimson figure soon merged into Nocturne's crimson sky.
"Ask what you want to ask." Caelan saw the struggle on Gorf's face.
Gorf lowered his voice, "Caelan, forgive my boldness, but how did you tame the Salamander King?"
"I love my son. She loves my son too. We're on the same side."
Gorf's gaze shifted back and forth between the pitch-black Vulkan and the comparatively very fair Caelan. 'Is he really your biological son?'
"You came to Hesiod just to find him?"
"Exactly."
"When do you plan to leave?"
"Until he unifies Nocturne. At least one-fifth of a Nocturnian year."
Gorf nodded awkwardly. He had many questions, like who Caelan really was, where he came from, and what the story was with his son.
But Gorf dared not ask too much, fearing to anger Caelan.
As long as he confirmed Caelan wasn't leaving soon, it was beneficial for Hesiod.
As for unifying Nocturne... it sounded unbelievable.
But with the power Caelan displayed, he definitely had the ability.
Even if his son was merely mortal, with his help, he could eventually unify Nocturne.
And Caelan's son fell from the sky. How could he possibly be mortal?
When he grew up, he'd probably be another Caelan.
Old blacksmith N'bel arrived too. Seeing Caelan, his voice trembled with awe: "Lord... Caelan, you summoned me?"
"No need for honorifics, N'bel. I'd like you to teach this child smithing."
N'bel looked at the dark infant in Caelan's arms. Vulkan was also examining him with crimson eyes.
"I could, but isn't he too young?"
"So he'll have to wait until he's older."
"How long?"
"One standard year."
"I'll wait a year for him."
"No need. You can work normally. When he's older, I'll have him come to you."
Nocturne had two calendars. One was the standard calendar, same as the Terran calendar.
The other was the Nocturnian year, based on the Time of Trial. Every fifteen standard Terran years counted as one year.
This was similar to Colchis.
Colchis' days and nights were too long. A day was divided into seven minor days. Each day was equivalent to a standard Terran week.
Primarchs grew extremely fast. One standard Terran year would be enough for Vulkan to become taller and larger than most mortals.
Having N'bel teach Vulkan smithing wasn't a whim.
Caelan always adhered to an educational philosophy of respecting Primarch individuality, encouraging them to develop personal interests.
These interests, like their personalities, were inherited from Neoth. And Vulkan's greatest wish in life was to be a blacksmith.
Although Vulkan possessed the most imposing physique and astonishing strength among the Primarchs, his actual combat level was merely mid-tier among all his brothers.
In Caelan's estimation, excluding factors like daemonhood and warp essence awakening, Sanguinius was undoubtedly Tier 0.
Horus, Lion, Fulgrim, and Jaghatai Khan were Tier 1.
Magnus's psychic power was too op, not included in ranking.
Konrad relied on prophecy, Corax on first-strike kill, Ferrus on his iron hands, could also be barely ranked T1.
The remaining Primarchs were only Tier 1.5.
Tier 2 consisted only of Guilliman, Lorgar, and the Alpha Twins.
Though the Primarchs endlessly debated who was stronger, Sanguinius's Tier 0 and Lorgar's bottom ranking were deserved.
Vulkan was the Tier 1.5 gatekeeper. He could only win against the Tier 2 primarchs, not known for combat prowess.
But factoring in his equally op perpetual constitution.
Like Captain America's famed "even match" trait, he could make mistakes countless times. His opponent only once.
Given time, he would win.
Factoring artifacts he could forge, such as the Talisman of Seven Hammers, he could take anyone down with him.
Even the Chaos Gods might not come out unscathed.
However, it was fact that Vulkan didn't excel in combat. He never saw himself as a warrior.
He was a blacksmith, and he loved smithing.
He joined the Imperium out of love for humanity and duty. He took command of the Eighteenth Legion to protect more people.
He almost never trained in martial arts, relying purely on brute strength when fighting his brothers.
If he were willing to train like his brothers, even without external help, he could rank Tier 1.
But Vulkan's humanity wouldn't allow it.
He always only saw himself as a blacksmith. Why would a blacksmith need such skills.
This humanity was Vulkan's most precious quality, but also precisely his fatal flaw.
If this humanity was exploited, Vulkan might become the easiest Primarch to fall.
Too much goodness could be twisted.
Extremes invert.
Any beautiful quality, taken to extremes, becomes bad.
And Caelan's educational policy never changed: compromise.
"Let me tell you a story." Caelan gently lifted Vulkan higher. "A story about Vulcan."
"In ancient Roman mythology, Vulcan was the god of fire and the forge, one of the twelve principal gods. He was the ugliest god, also lame, yet he married the most beautiful goddess, Venus."
"But his soul and intellect were most outstanding. He was born with the ability to control fire, thus easily forging all kinds of immensely powerful weapons."
"The palaces of the gods on Mount Olympus were built by him. Almost all the artifacts in the gods' hands were forged by him, like Apollo's sun chariot, Cupid's golden arrows, and Jupiter's shield."
"Though he wasn't as outstanding in combat as other principal gods, he played a vital role in the Roman pantheon."
"It could be said that Vulcan allocated the divine powers and established the ruling structure of the gods. The artifacts he forged represented the gods' power and responsibilities. Hence, in the West, Vulcan is regarded as the god of authority, symbolizing power."
Caelan gazed at the dark child: "You are Vulkan, too. You also possess extraordinary talent. But whether you become a blacksmith, whether you become the god of authority, depends on your choice."
"Baba..." Vulkan's eyes sparkled. "wha hop Vul choose?"
Vulkan's learning talent was as astonishing as his brothers'. Not long ago, he could only utter indistinct babble. Now he could produce clear, accurate syllables. That young yet fluent voice would astonish other mortals.
But Caelan wasn't surprised. If he couldn't learn, Caelan would be worried.
"I hope you choose for yourself."
"I won't choose for you or your brothers."
"I will only show you the paths, and their consequences."
"Why?" Little Vulkan asked, half-understanding.
Caelan joked, "Because I'm afraid you'll resent me."
Vulkan's small face declared: "Won't!"
Caelan smiled. "The right to choose one's path is crucial."
"When others choose for you, even if the future seems bright, if you encounter difficulties, people inevitably blame the decision-maker."
"However, if you make the choice yourself, even if the road ahead is thorny, people are often willing to bear the consequences, even stubbornly persevere."
"This is also human nature. People prefer to be responsible for their own choices, rather than passively accepting arrangements from others."
Of course, many people only regret after hitting a wall, but being stubborn is also human nature.
....
BOOM!
Juno's enormous body crashed down like a meteor. Her thick claws firmly gripped the salamander's back. Sharp tips easily pierced scales, deeply embedding into flesh.
The pinned salamander let out a piercing roar, frantically twisting its body, only futile struggles of a trapped beast.
CRACK!
Juno's fang-filled maw precisely bit down on the prey's cervical spine. Hot blood splattered onto her ferocious head.
In the beast's eyes, there was no kin-slaying, only predator and prey.
Juno never regarded these crawlers as kind. She was a superior!
Juno gripped the prey's mangled corpse with her claws. With a deafening flap, she flew towards Hesiod.
Juno was full. This salamander was caught back for her child and the child's father to eat.