The moon shone brightly through the sparse stars. A thick tallic stench of blood lingered in the air, refusing to dissipate, while pools of crimson coagulated into solid masses within the scattered craters.
Small creatures hiding in the corners had finally survived the disaster, tentatively poking their heads out from their shelters. With the relief of having survived the apocalypse, they prepared to feast upon the morbid bounty left in the wake of the devastation—only to drop dead instantly, poisoned by the lethal excess of chemical compounds concentrated within the clotted blood.
Massive bonfires roared, a result of the battlefield cleanup. The fallen soldiers were being cremated alongside the weapons they had used to clash against the forces of Chaos.
Pale ash drifted in the wind, sweeping into the distance along the gently sloping terrain of the Principality of Leinster. Amidst the devastation, countless survivors continued to scour the rubble for anything salvageable.
The night deepened, yet the pyres burned on. Aside from the nobles tasked with communicating with the Angels and the various logistics personnel, most of the populace had already fallen asleep against the cold ruins. Still, a significant number of people could not bring themselves to rest.
A citizen of the Principality frantically searched through a pile of debris. He vaguely rembered that this place used to be his ho. When the war broke out, he had hidden his children right here.
Clatter—
Rubble cascaded down as he unearthed a severed hand. After a brief inspection to confirm it bore no familiar traits, the citizen tossed it aside and resud digging through the wreckage.
The cost of resistance had been astronomical. The Principality of Leinster had gathered its final three million citizens, and in the short, chaotic span of the conflict, more than half had been wiped out.
Seth approached the civilian digging through the rubble, his gaze falling upon the blood-soaked ordinary man.
In the past, these survivors of war would have likely ended up as an after-dinner snack for the Flesh Tearers.
"There are no survivors left here."
Seth took a deep breath. The intoxicating scent of blood relentlessly urged him to satisfy his unnatural cravings.
The judgnt born of his genetic instincts told him that this citizen's efforts were entirely futile.
"..."
Hearing the words of the Emperor's Angel, the devout believer who had faithfully served his nation looked as if he had been struck by lightning. All strength abandoned him, and he slumped to his knees on the spot.
"..."
Seth looked at the civilian with indifference before stepping past him. He walked to an area about forty ters away and began hauling away the wreckage.
"Ah!"
A startled cry echoed from within the ruins. Seth effortlessly snapped a load-bearing pillar that was embedded in the earth, reached his hand in, and plucked out a small child who was still trying to shrink back into the crevice.
"I am the Emperor's Angel. I have co to save you."
Seth spoke. His tone was hardly gentle; in fact, it was rather stiff.
To prevent civilians from doing anything irrational, the Adeptus Astartes had been repeating this exact phrase throughout their rescue operations.
But it proved to be effective.
Even though the vast majority of the Imperium's citizens were ignorant, thanks to the Ecclesiarchy, even the lowest scavengers in the underhive had heard the legends of the Emperor's Angels.
"Mhm."
The child instantly stopped crying.
Though it was hard to tell if it was out of comfort or sheer terror.
Seth cradled the child against his massive arm and prepared to turn away.
"Papa?"
The child suddenly spoke up, causing Seth to halt in his tracks.
The soul-crushed citizen reacted as if his spirit had been forcefully shoved back into his body. He scrambled to his feet, crawling wildly toward the source of the voice, only to be blocked by a towering silhouette that resembled a monolithic demon.
Truth be told, the thick layer of dried, coagulated blood crusting the Space Marine's armor was genuinely terrifying.
"My Lord—"
The citizen mustered his courage, trying to find the right words, but his nervous stuttering was interrupted by the child.
"Papa!"
The child cheered happily.
"Head to the central plaza. The Sisters Hospitaller are there."
Shoving the child into the citizen's arms, Seth strode toward the next block to continue searching for survivors in the ruins.
"Oh, my little Maria, my precious baby."
Hugging his child tightly, the citizen staggered down the path toward the central plaza, laughing and weeping at the sa ti.
It turned out he had been searching in the wrong place all along.
The Adeptus Astartes possessed incredibly acute senses. The Blood Angels, burdened with the Bloodthirst, had an awareness of living organisms second only to the Space Wolves among all Astartes Chapters. By rely loosening their grip on their instincts a fraction, they could swiftly detect any living creatures buried beneath the rubble, greatly expediting the rescue efforts.
As for why these gods of slaughter, who tore through enemies on the battlefield like walking at grinders, were acting as rescuers...
It was because The Angel was here.
Karna had not made any specific demands of these Progeny of the Angel. Once the war was officially confird over, he simply followed the Sisters Hospitaller back to the Principality of Leinster to begin saving lives.
The dogmas of the Sisters Hospitaller were actually quite admirable. Unfortunately, they were considered too 'soft' to ever beco mainstream within the Imperium.
So, the Blood Angels decided to follow their example.
They had nothing better to do after the battle anyway, and unlike the Black Templars, they did not have a particular fondness for burning people at the stake. They figured they might as well join Karna in his rescue mission.
"Lord Inquisitor, is there any possibility of the Garvin Dynasty being preserved?"
Inside a reception hall whose do had been entirely blown away by artillery fire, the Prince of Leinster anxiously posed the question to Aglaia.
This composed old man, who could face millions of his subjects and countless heretical foes without batting an eye, now looked like a nervous student waiting for a strict teacher to announce his final grades.
"After verification by the Inquisition: Garvin, Imperial Knight World. Pre-war population: three hundred million. Current population: one million two hundred and twenty thousand. Subjected to a Category Gamma Chaos invasion. Residual planetary Chaos corruption is at Level III. Following the intervention and support of the expeditionary fleet, it remains within Imperial territory. Based on this, we have reached a conclusion."
Aglaia handed over a report. Her tone was not one of negotiation, but of absolute notification.
"Within the Garvin system, all bloodlines of the Dynasty that did not participate in the defense of the Principality of Leinster shall be executed. Aside from the Principality of Leinster itself, no traces of civilization shall be left standing in any city or town. All heretical constructs and mutated organisms are to be subjected to total extermination."
"...The Dynasty thanks you for your support, and the Dynasty is deeply grateful for your rcy, Lord Inquisitor."
The Prince let out a long sigh of relief. At the very least, the core bloodline of the Dynasty had been spared.
An incident of this magnitude had directly led to the near-fall of a Knight World that boasted hundreds of Knight suits. In normal circumstances, exterminating nine generations of their lineage would have been considered a light punishnt.
He hadn't expected the Inquisitor to let them off so lightly after simply having a Space Marine Librarian inspect the situation.
At the sa ti, his thoughts drifted to Leonardo, who was currently sleeping outside by the bonfires alongside the attendants. He couldn't fathom how the boy, who had been trembling in terror before the battle, was now able to sleep so soundly.
"Mm. If any other ergencies arise, I will notify you."
Aglaia watched the pleasantly surprised Prince of Leinster. Had this been the past, she would have unquestionably executed all the upper echelons of the Knight House to eliminate any potential hidden threats, forcing their relatives campaigning on distant fronts to return and take over the Dynasty.
But since Lord Rases had personally audited and vouched for them, there was no need for her to take such extre asures.
With that, she turned around cleanly, clutching a massive stack of docunts, and went off to write her mission report.
Ah, how relaxing.
Left standing alone, the Prince barely had ti to savor the joy of his family's survival before plunging into a brand-new wave of anxiety.
Unlike the Knight Worlds that had fully aligned with the Adeptus chanicus, they were genuine feudal vassals of the Imperium. They possessed their own Knight suit production lines even before joining the Imperium, but these manufacturing facilities had always been centralized in the capital of Garvin to secure the authority of the High King.
But now...
Setting aside the fact that Garvin had already been riddled with corruption before the war even started—making it uncertain whether the production lines had been tainted—the re presence of the chanicus fleet hanging in orbit left him feeling incredibly insecure.
'Perhaps I should open communications with the chanicus ahead of ti?'
The Prince muttered quietly, beginning to fret over the future of his House.
Without the Knight production lines, every Knight suit destroyed was an irreplaceable loss. Without the backing of the chanicus, his family would slowly degrade into ordinary Imperial nobles, eventually fading into utter obscurity within the vast expanse of the cosmos.
However, the planet had just suffered a catastrophic outbreak of Chaos contamination, specifically Slaaneshi heretical corruption centered right on the Garvin Dynasty. This was an unprecedented, devastating blow to the House's reputation.
The entire reason Knight Dynasties were allowed to independently maintain their Knight suits was their unwavering loyalty to the Imperium. Now that the Dynasty had spawned a full-scale rebellion, it blatantly proved they couldn't even perform their most fundantal duty.
"Every ti I see an Inquisitor, I nearly jump out of my skin."
As the Prince of Leinster wallowed in his anxiety, Colonel Morse—the newly appointed regintal commander of the 'Broken Sword' who had just taken over from Bushlin—quietly grumbled to his old comrade.
"I think Lady Aglaia is quite amiable."
Commissar Alex replied, looking completely unfazed.
"If I had an Inquisitor backing up when the Departnto Munitorum was withholding my equipnt and reinforcents, and she casually approved an overstrength roster of over ten thousand n, I'd think she was a saint too,"
Morse continued. At first, he had assud the 'Broken Sword' had suffered catastrophic casualties to warrant twenty thousand reinforcents. It wasn't until he arrived that he realized it was the equipnt waiting for the n, not the other way around.
They had full sets of Void Armor with self-circulating life support systems and a massive fleet of armored vehicles. You could throw twenty thousand n into that pool, and you still wouldn't be able to scrape together a proper infantry line.
Fortunately, their tactical doctrine revolved around joint advances with the Adeptus Astartes, aning they didn't have to worry about finding personnel for infantry-tank coordination.
Just as the words left his mouth, Aglaia suddenly turned back around.
Morse instinctively ducked his head, grabbing a military report he had already reviewed three tis and using it to cover his face.
The motion was smooth and practiced.
Aglaia shot him a bewildered glance before turning back to the Prince.
"Following a joint inspection by the Inquisition and the Adeptus chanicus regarding the surviving Knight production lines of the Garvin Dynasty, we have found no traces of Chaos contamination. By the decree of Lord Romulus, the Garvin Dynasty shall be permitted to retain their sacred relics and continue to make contributions to the Imperium."
"Thank you! I thank the Archmagos, and I give my utmost thanks to Lord Romulus!"
Her words were like music to his ears. The Prince of Leinster instantly felt as though all his previous worries had been for nothing.
"If I may ask, will the esteed Lords have any free ti? The Dynasty wishes to host the grandest of victory ceremonies in their honor."
Even though the planet's population had been reduced to a re million survivors, one could never underestimate the sheer brute-force efficiency of Imperial infrastructure technology, nor the relentless endurance of human labor. They could absolutely throw together the most magnificent ceremony for the revered Astartes in just two days.
Aglaia personally believed that this so-called ceremony had an eighty percent chance of being canceled. Under Lord Romulus's strict schedule, the expeditionary fleet was extrely pressed for ti.
"They still need to wrap up the aftermath of the war. Furthermore, if you have any inquiries, you may communicate directly with Lord Romulus. He is in charge of coordinating the entire expeditionary fleet."
She tossed out the straightforward reply and promptly returned to writing her report.
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