Watching Leo in such a state, Hammond felt a twinge of genuine pain in his heart.
He had worked with Leo for a long time and knew exactly what kind of man the youth was. Upright, brave, willing to sleep in the trenches with his soldiers, and always preferring to be at the very front during a charge. A man like that was the definition of a true Knight; how could such a person defect to Chaos?
But Hammond also knew he couldn't make decisions based purely on intuition. His vast experience told him that in this world, feelings were the least reliable thing. Even the most loyal warrior could be corrupted by Chaos, and the most dependable brother-in-arms could turn into an enemy. The price of a mistake was something he could not afford to pay.
And so, he could only remain silent.
Over in the ruins, the Knight Auxiliaries began to stir. Seeing Leo's reaction, they assumed he was acting out of a guilty conscience or fear, and their insults grew even more vicious.
"Traitor!" "Coward!" "You've spat on your father's legacy!"
Leo's body swayed slightly. He heard someone mention his father. Alistair Saint Gallus—the man who had died at Dorido, the one Leo had always idolized and aspired to become. But soon, his eyes returned to a dull calm, though he felt a hollow void where his heart should be.
Perhaps unable to watch any longer, Hammond took a deep breath and raised his hand.
"Attack."
The order was given. The Vanguard's final offensive began. The roar of bolters, the snarl of chainswords, and the shouts of soldiers merged into a single cacophony. The Knight Auxiliaries resisted desperately, but with the massive disparity in numbers and equipment, their defeat was a foregone conclusion.
Leo stood at the edge of the battlefield, watching it all unfold. He had stood here countless times, watching the Vanguard charge. Back then, he would have gripped his weapon and led from the front. He would have shouted "For Brevis!" as he plunged into the enemy ranks with his men.
But now, he could only watch. Watch as comrades who once fought side-by-side slaughtered one another. Watch as familiar faces fell, one after the other.
Tears began to stream down his face. He didn't know exactly why he was crying. Was it for the dying Auxiliaries? For the Vanguard soldiers forced to kill them? Or for a family blinded by Chaos and his own collapsing world? He simply stood there weeping, silently watching the entire process.
Beside him, the Wildling sensed his grief, let out a soft sigh, but said nothing.
The battle ended quickly. The Knight Auxiliaries were wiped out to the last man; of the five thousand, not one surrendered. They fought until their final breath, fulfilling their loyalty to House Saint Gallus with their lives—even if the entity they served might no longer be the true Saint Gallus.
The Vanguard soldiers began clearing the battlefield, gathering the wounded and tallying the losses. No one came to speak to Leo; no one even approached him. He stood alone in the snow like a statue.
After handling the final clean-up, Hammond finally walked toward him.
"Leo."
Leo looked up at the Commissar from the Brontian Longknives. His eyes were red and swollen, with tear tracks still wet on his face, but his gaze had regained its composure.
"Hammond," he said, his voice hoarse. "Do you believe me?"
Hammond remained silent for several seconds. "I believe you, but I cannot make decisions based solely on 'feelings,'" he replied.
Leo nodded; he understood. "Then how do you intend to deal with me?"
Hammond sighed. "We'll lock you up for now and wait for word from the Governor."
Leo didn't speak, simply nodding once more. Locked up, imprisoned, awaiting judgment. In the Imperium, this was essentially a death sentence. He had been the second-in-command of the Vanguard, the bravest commander on the Wall, and a hero in the hearts of the soldiers. Now, he was to be thrown into a cell constructed by his own people.
He looked toward the Wildlings—those who had saved him and escorted him all the way back. "You all..." he began.
The Wildling leader shook his head. "We only listen to the Ice Lord. He told us to wait for you here."
Leo offered a bitter smile. Two Vanguard soldiers walked over and stood beside him. They didn't draw their weapons, they simply stood there, but the intent was clear.
"Let's go, Lord Leo," one of them said, his voice tinged with melancholy.
Leo gave a quiet "Mmh" and followed them. He offered no resistance, no explanations, and no pleas for mercy. He just walked silently, like a man who had exhausted every ounce of his strength.
The cell was rudimentary: an iron door, a single cot, and not even a window. Leo sat on the bed, staring at the closed door. Footsteps echoed outside as soldiers changed shifts, patrolled, and spoke in hushed tones. Their voices were low, but Leo could hear them.
"Did he really turn to Chaos?" "Don't know. The notice from the Hive says he's a traitor." "The Hive? That was clearly announced by those parasites in the Noble Council. Our Lord Governor hasn't said a word yet." A soldier interrupted the previous speaker. "I don't think it's true either. He's fought on the Wall for so long; don't we know what kind of man he is?" "Who knows? Sometimes your own brother can be corrupted right under your nose."
Leo closed his eyes. Own brother. He thought of Aiden—the Paladin who had protected him since childhood, the veteran subordinate of over a decade, who in the end had tried to kill him. If even Aiden could betray him, why wouldn't people suspect a high-and-mighty noble like himself?
The small slit in the iron door slid open. A face appeared—a young non-commissioned officer Leo didn't recognize. The officer looked at him with a complex expression, then spoke in a very low voice:
"Lord Leo... do you want to hear what happened at the Hive?"
Leo opened his eyes. "Speak."
The officer began to tell the story. He spoke of how Callum Saint Gallus had set a trap, using foul means to control the Governor in an attempt to sacrifice him to the Chaos Gods. Just as Callum was about to succeed, a Chaos Sorcerer suddenly appeared with daemons to disrupt the plot.
Afterward, the Governor's wife realized something was wrong and contacted Arch-Cardinal Goodwin, leading the Ecclesiarchy's forces to storm Saint Gallus Castle. That earth-shattering battle had cost countless lives; even Canoness Valenia had fallen. In the end, the Governor made it out alive, but Callum was dead, and High King Caladog had vanished.
Leo listened silently, not uttering a word. When he heard that Raynor was safe, he felt a weight lift from his heart. That man—the one capable of changing Brevis, the Governor he had truly come to admire—was still alive. Finally, some good news.
But then, he heard about his grandfather.
Missing. High King Caladog was gone.
Leo's breath hitched for a moment. He was a stubborn old man, always arguing with him and keeping every secret locked away in his heart. But the moment his grandfather truly met with disaster, Leo felt a surge of emotion that nearly broke him. He buried his head in his hands, fingers clawing into his hair, his body trembling. But he didn't cry; his tears had already run dry.
After a long time, he looked up. "Say it again," he commanded. "Every detail. Say it again."
The officer hesitated, then began to repeat the account. This time he went into greater detail, piecing together information he had heard from others bit by bit.
Leo finished listening, closed his eyes, and began to think. This was the quality Caladog had valued most in him. "Leo possesses a mental flexibility that belies his appearance," the High King had once remarked. On the battlefield, he could always find the key to breaking a stalemate in the midst of total chaos.
Now, he needed to push that ability to its limit.
Uncle Callum, corrupted by Chaos, setting a trap. A Chaos Sorcerer appearing out of nowhere to sow discord. Aunt Luna, immediately declaring herself Regent and taking over the family. Knight suits being mobilized; Aiden hunting him. The Knight Auxiliaries appearing at the Forbidden Wall to fight the Vanguard. The Noble Council suddenly launching a mutiny.
Data points arranged and combined in his mind. After an unknown amount of time, his eyes suddenly flared with clarity.