Temptation

A sword strike.

Then another.

A flourish of steel, trailing flickering, elusive afterimages, came at Kasgar.

Tricky and razor-sharp—no description would be too malicious for the wielder of such swordsmanship.

No one could withstand such a swift offensive.

Kasgar, however, was an exception.

At least, that was what he firmly believed.

Amid countless afterimages, he calmed himself and felt for the sword's position.

There!

He poured nearly all his strength into his wrist and intercepted the blade with a block.

Clang!

He had succeeded!

The seemingly light attack landed solidly on his sword, carrying far more force than he had imagined.

He staggered several steps, struggling to steady himself as he retreated.

Blocking that one move alone had drained all his strength.

Before he could rejoice, his opponent's blade swept away with a fluid speed almost impossible to follow with the naked eye, then darted toward his chest while his footing was still unstable.

Not good!

Fortunately, Kasgar instinctively dodged left, narrowly avoiding the lightning-fast thrust.

At the same time, he raised his longsword before his chest to prevent his opponent from pressing the attack after the thrust.

Two moves!

He had successfully blocked two moves!

At last—at last, he could see the path of her sword!

Yet Kasgar, lost in wild delight, seemed to have forgotten something else.

What mattered most was never what one saw.

It was what one failed to see.

Just as a flicker of joy rose in his heart, a somewhat cool arm curled around his neck from the side.

He felt as though he had been lifted like a chick.

"Your blocks are still too rushed. You failed to deflect most of the force."

"Your unsteady footwork and slow reactions are also major problems."

"I understand. I'll—"

"No, Kasgar. You cannot train anymore."

"You have to rest with me. That is the 'tuition fee.'"

"...All right."

Forced onto Fulgrim's lap, Kasgar lowered his head and silently conceded.

Five years had passed.

Five years had gone by since he secretly slipped out of the Manor to meet Fulgrim, and since the two of them reclaimed the fortress and married after being falsely accused.

Over those five years, Fulgrim had used her abilities and technical expertise, far beyond those of ordinary people, to govern Karax Fortress in perfect order.

With the development and deployment of new machinery, Karax Fortress had transformed from a steel coffin into the ecological oasis it was today.

Not only had the people's living conditions vastly improved, but their work had also become easier with the refinement and operation of machinery.

With more free time, they could naturally devote more of it to artistic creation, something forgotten for countless years.

New theaters, concert halls, cinemas, bookstalls, galleries, and other facilities sprang up like mushrooms after rain, nourishing the bodies and minds of every Karax resident.

As for where Kasgar was now, it was a specially constructed house built by the workers at the fortress's highest central point for Fulgrim's demigod-like physique and height.

There was even a gilded statue of Sagittarius in the plaza outside, commemorating the pair's sincere and beautiful love.

As for why it was Sagittarius again, do not ask.

Over those five years, Kasgar had never stopped seeking Fulgrim's guidance.

Whether in swordsmanship, machinery, or internal affairs, he did his utmost to understand the guidance and teachings of the Primarch.

As a Primarch who pursued perfection, Fulgrim was naturally Kasgar's finest teacher.

Whenever he had free time, he trained.

Then trained some more.

Even though Fulgrim alone could settle every problem, even though Chemos held no enemies they could not handle.

Kasgar had never once slackened.

He persisted and practiced again and again.

He only stopped when his teacher—Fulgrim—forced him to, just as she was doing now.

Lowering his head, feeling the heavy pressure from behind his skull, he curled up before Fulgrim.

A deep sense of helplessness flooded Kasgar's limbs and bones.

He had improved quickly.

But he was still far too weak.

During that sword duel, the Primarch had not used her true strength.

If Fulgrim had gotten serious, Kasgar would never have seen her sword before his head flew off.

To accommodate Kasgar, Fulgrim had even lowered both her speed and strength to an ordinary human level, fighting him on technique alone.

Yet even so, Kasgar still could not contend with her.

Five years.

The gap between them still seemed like an uncrossable chasm.

He needed to clearly understand that he was nothing more than an ordinary mortal.

Perhaps Fulgrim's affection could earn him a certain position, but with strength this weak, how could he prevent her fall in the future? How could he save her from the hands of the Chaos Gods?

The worry between Kasgar's brows deepened.

This could not continue.

He had to find another way to become stronger.

For that, he had to find a new shortcut, he had to—

No.

The instant that thought flashed through his mind, Kasgar rejected it.

That had been close.

If he had accepted that thought just now, he might well have fallen into the trap of the Warp's Chaos Gods.

Those things would not appear before you like witches in fairy tales, openly wearing malicious grins and saying, "Hehehe, how about we make a deal?"

That sort of method might only fool an idiot like Magnus.

In reality, Their temptations were far subtler and more dangerous.

Often, before those being tempted even realized it, They had already led them astray beyond all redemption.

Kasgar had to remain vigilant against this at all times.

He had to—and could only—rely on himself.

With that thought, fighting spirit ignited within him once more.

Old Man Huang had even sold his ass to revive humanity!

How could he give up so easily over such a tiny setback?!

"What is it, Kasgar?"

"You seem to be in... a rather poor mood."

"Your progress has already been tremendous. Even among the valiant Sulfa people, there could not be a swordsman who improved this quickly."

"You need not blame yourself, nor do you need to feel pressured."

Seeing his low spirits, Fulgrim gently stroked his forehead.

"If you still think you are not strong enough."

"Then leave everything to me without worry."

She was so good to him.

Held in her arms, Kasgar sighed inwardly.

"Speaking of the Sulfa people."

Her tone became much more serious. "As more and more other fortresses on Chemos join us, our conflicts with the Sulfa people have grown increasingly intense."

A growing number of attack records showed that they were becoming the Sulfa people's primary target.

"As Karax's infrastructure gradually reaches completion, the other fortresses allied with us are also sending their civilians to Karax."

Over the past five years, Fulgrim had used force and diplomacy to bring nearly every surviving fortress-city on Chemos under her control.

With her excellent governance, she had drawn in the population of all Chemos.

The fortress-cities were not a problem.

The most troublesome ones were still the scavengers wandering outside the cities.

"Kasgar, the other new fortresses that have joined us urgently need construction arrangements. I may not be able to get away."

"I need you to protect the civilian convoys traveling to our fortress and keep them safe from Sulfa attacks."

"All right."

Kasgar agreed at once.

This was a rare chance to stand on his own and test his progress.

He could not hide forever beneath the protection of the Primarch's Radiance.

The future Great Crusade held even more twists, hardships, and trials. He had to try facing danger alone.

"Very well, now that the serious business is finished."

"As for now..."

She smiled softly, her fingers gently lifting Kasgar's chin.

"Defeated knight."

"Are you ready to accept the punishment for your defeat?"

Feeling her hands wandering over him, Kasgar met Fulgrim's violet eyes, brimming with amusement.

"..."

This is bad.

Some temptations could be subdued.

Others... could not be refused at all.

His seduction check had critically failed.

Yet even if all resistance was futile, even if thorns bound all four of his limbs, Kasgar would still summon his unyielding will and cry out the famous words of the unyielding—

"Guh, kill me!"

For no reason at all, Kasgar recalled the Mud Truck that had come hurtling toward him twenty-five years ago.