Chapter 68: Faith and Gods
Previously, the Alpha Legion, led by Alpharius, controlled the outcome of wars through infiltration operations. After Alpha Legion operatives eliminated enemy commanders, the Imperial Army would then engage the remaining forces in battle.
Omega, by contrast, used the Imperial Army to launch full-scale attacks on enemy forces, allowing Space Marines to deploy and hunt down high-value targets amidst the chaos efficiently.
Of course, Omega would also lead the Space Marines into direct combat himself, serving as the vanguard of the Imperial Army. He broke through enemy lines with spearhead formations and engaged in fierce battles, allowing the Imperial Army to expand its territorial gains continuously.
The two methods were reversed entirely in order, but from the perspective of combat philosophy and effectiveness, Omega's approach proved more efficient.
To a large extent, this was because Omega used technology to enhance the Space Marines' equipment and tactical coordination, perfectly complementing their combat capabilities and forming an extensive, efficient war system.
Omega's combat methods, to some extent, prevented the Space Marines from being wasted as ordinary soldiers.
The number of Astartes warriors under his command, combined with those managed by Alpharius, had already reached 100,000.
The Alpha Legion grew stronger with each battle, and the cooperation between the Imperial Army and Space Marines created an increasingly harmonious relationship, a harmony that few other legions could match.
At this moment, in a star system countless light-years away, there existed a planet that had served as the stronghold of the Word Bearers' faith for decades. The entire world had become a planet of extreme religious culture.
Lorgar, the Primarch of the Word Bearers, had created the Perfect City of Monarchia with the mindset of building a religious sanctuary, a beacon of faith meant to prove the Emperor's divinity to all humanity.
The entire planet was monotheistic, worshiping a single deity: the Emperor himself.
Yet the Emperor repeatedly asserted he was not a god.
The Word Bearers' religion, conversely, proved repeatedly, through scripture, logic, and devotion, that the Emperor was divine. This paradox was strange indeed. The Emperor, the god worshipped on this planet, refused to acknowledge his own followers.
The disconnect would soon tear everything apart.
Lorgar governed the entire planet extraordinarily well. Religion, military, culture, and economy all flourished. The architectural culture was distinctly religious in character.
The Perfect City boasted a colossal cathedral, vast as a city unto itself, sacred and solemn, where countless inhabitants worshipped the Emperor in constant devotion.
They recited sacred words like those from holy scripture, their devout chanting filling the entire city with solemnity and sanctity.
Missionaries in flowing robes could be seen throughout the city, walking along clean and sacred avenues with copies of the Word in their hands. They possessed a fervent love for this city of faith, and in the distance, an enormous statue of the Emperor gleamed like a god beneath the sunlight.
Thanks to the Word Bearers' decades of tireless missionary work, faith in the Emperor had become increasingly prevalent throughout the human empire. The perfect logic of the Divine Word, through the Emperor's every action and utterance, rigorously proved that the Emperor was divine, as a mathematical formula proves its answer through a series of deductions.
But the Emperor refused to acknowledge himself as a god and was furious at Lorgar's excessive religious fervor.
The Great Crusade was meant to free humanity from ignorance and superstition, not replace it with a new faith.
The Emperor's wrath descended. Or, as the Word Bearers believed, divine punishment had come, a terrible misunderstanding that would cascade into heresy and damnation in another timeline.
Thousands of enormous space warships emerged in space, their legion insignia marking them as the Ultramarines. The fleet's sheer size affected sunlight itself, gradually dimming the brilliant, sacred light of the Perfect City.
Roboute Guilliman and the company commanders positioned themselves in a state of cold rationality. They were there to destroy.
Guilliman clearly informed the citizens of Monarchia that the Emperor had ordered its destruction, a message that filled the city's inhabitants with disbelief and existential confusion.
Why would God treat them this way? They were the Emperor's most loyal followers.
While ordinary residents were expected to defend the Perfect City and maintain their faith, the Ultramarines demonstrated their intent through probing attacks and destruction.
As a result, vast numbers of Monarchia's residents urgently fled the city of faith. Countless Space Marines landed from the sky like falling meteors.
Space Marines clad in blue power armor and wielding explosive weapons emerged from the landing pods.
A massive warship moved slowly through space, its orbital bombardment cannons coldly aimed at the city far below on the planet's surface, instruments of the Emperor's judgment.
In the strange and vast warp, thousands of Word Bearer Legion warships were urgently leaping back toward the planet where the Perfect City was located. The journey felt like an eternity, even through subspace, each moment heavy with dread and inevitability.
On the bridge of a Gloriana-class battleship, twenty kilometers distant, a warrior in power armor wore a priest's robe, inscribed with sacred scripture, adding holiness to armor initially forged for a warrior's protection. His bald head was also covered in inscribed holy text, the entire Book of Lorgar etched into his skin like a living prayer.
Lorgar held his religious scepter, his gaze fixed ahead like that of a pope, with the elderly Kor Phaeron and the young Erebus standing beside him.
Despite his evil nature, Erebus outwardly feigned profound concern for Lorgar, knowing full well that the Primarch was actually anxious, shocked, and incredulous, his entire worldview cracking at the seams.
Erebus's eyes darted carefully, and his expression, perfectly conveying concern, spoke in a soft, serpent-like voice.
"Lord Lorgar, the Emperor has only sent Roboute Guilliman to intimidate us. The Ultramarines are the Emperor's loyal warriors, and we are his loyal followers. We are all loyal. The Emperor would not truly harm the Perfect City. Is this not so, Kor Phaeron?"
The elderly Kor Phaeron, though uncertain himself, still attempted reassurance, though his words rang hollow even as he spoke them.
"Yes...yes. At least Lord Guilliman and Lord Lorgar are both sons of the Emperor and brothers. He will grant us the opportunity to explain. Guilliman has ruled the Five Hundred Worlds for so long. Surely he understands that all things require time."
"I swear I will not act rashly."
"Guilliman, what is wrong with my faith in the Emperor? You would not do this, you would not. I believe you. I believe you!"
The two men's words seemed to provide Lorgar some reassurance, and he muttered to himself, his right hand gripping his staff tightly, but doubt gnawed at the edges of his certainty like Warp-spawn at reality.
Erebus watched from the sidelines, a faint smirk playing at his lips beneath his mask of concern. He found the situation beyond words.
This Primarch was truly naive, and all the more susceptible to the whispers already beginning to claw at his soul.
Leman Russ had attempted to persuade them so many times before. The fact that the Emperor was now sending Guilliman instead clearly meant he truly intended to act.
The die was cast.
"The more pure and holy a faith crumbles, the more perfectly it can nurture the flowers of evil. I truly hope to witness that day, Lord Lorgar," Erebus thought to himself, barely containing his elation.
He secretly looked forward to the moment when his Primarch, Lorgar, would collapse and turn to evil—when faith became despair, and despair became hunger for a darker power. The thought filled him with joy and terrible anticipation.
His expression, however, continued to show deep concern for the Primarch, as if he wished he could share Lorgar's burden. The performance was flawless.
If Erebus anticipated the downfall of goodness, then Kor Phaeron sought to seize greater religious power from Lorgar's failure, to make his adopted son understand that he, Kor Phaeron, was still dignified and sacred, that this catastrophe did not diminish his authority.
Two evil-hearted individuals stood nearby, their shadows lengthening across the bridge, but Lorgar, preoccupied with his faith and his dawning horror, failed to notice the danger that had already closed upon him, or perhaps he sensed it and hoped against reason that it wasn't real.
...
Time passed slowly.
The thousand warships of the Word Bearers traveling through warp space could not sprout wings and move even faster toward their destination.
The Warp itself seemed to slow their passage, as if the universe itself conspired to ensure they would arrive too late.
Above the planet where Monarchia was located, on the bridge of the Ultramarines flagship, Roboute Guilliman coldly and expressionlessly gave an order.
The company commander beside him promptly relayed it through the communication channels.
The massive cannons of the warship's orbital bombardment systems began charging with intense power, weapons designed to level cities, now aimed at the holiest place in the Word Bearers' faith.
The dazzling light of ionized energy overshadowed the sun itself. Even in the Perfect City, where most residents had been evacuated, many still held fast to their faith and chose to perish alongside the city they loved.
The brilliant ion light shone clearly down from the heavens. In the great cathedral of Monarchia, believers began to pray, accepting what they believed was the Emperor's judgment.
Some believers in their twenties, gripped by fear, clutched their faith pendants and silently bowed their heads, prayers that would remain forever unanswered.
Boom!
A massive, incredibly powerful ion beam descended from the sky, piercing through the atmosphere and striking the Perfect City with unerring precision.
The mighty energy shield stubbornly protected the city.
All that could be observed was the thick energy shield and the orbital bombardment locked in a stalemate mid-air. The believers within the city were filled with hope upon witnessing this; perhaps the Emperor's punishment would be merciful after all, maybe this was a test of faith.
The Perfect City's extraordinarily defensive shield perfectly withstood an orbital bombardment strike, a feat that exceeded the expectations of the distant Ultramarines observers.
But Lorgar, watching from across the void, felt no hope.
He felt only the cold weight of betrayal, and somewhere in the darkness of his heart, something older and far more patient began to whisper.
[End of Chapter]
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