Fairytale of Ten Thousand Stars

Kasgar transmigrated.

(Holy Ancient Terra curse), how the (Holy Ancient Terra curse) did he transmigrate into the Warhammer World of all places?!

To make matters worse, he landed on Chemos, the homeworld of the Primarch Fulgrim!

And right after touching down, he caught the attention of the Prince of Pleasure, Slaanesh!

In the Warhammer World, the cosmos beyond the material realm is called the Warp.

And within this Warp dwell four Chaos Gods.

Slaanesh is one of them.

Once a mortal draws their gaze, causing their soul to fall into their grasp, what awaits is endless torment from the Chaos God after death.

And clearly, he had hit the jackpot.

"Hahaha!"

It didn't matter that he couldn't live within the Sixth Ring Road in his past life!

In this life, he could stay in the Sixth Ring forever!

Of course, compared to what he was seeing and hearing right now, that was just a minor issue.

The most critical thing was—

(Holy Ancient Terra curse) When the (Holy Ancient Terra curse) did Fulgrim become a woman?!

Fulgrim, also translated as Fugen, nicknamed Fumeifeng, Third Sister, Third Princess, was the Primarch of the Third Legion, the Sons of the Emperor.

In the Warhammer World, he was a perfect legion commander, a Primarch most kind and compassionate toward mortals, a master swordsman specializing in neck strikes, a demigod inspiring humanity toward the future.

At the same time, he was also a Daemon Prince destined to fall, a follower of the Prince of Pleasure, a lunatic, a purple-skinned eel.

But!

No matter what, absolutely, absolutely, absolutely could not be a woman!

By the Throne above!!!

Fulgrim was the only Primarch in the original lore who had been married—Kasgar knew that.

But Kasgar would never have guessed that the marriage partner would be himself!

He was about to marry a Primarch!

Him!

And Fulgrim!

Married!

Kasgar was sweating profusely.

He felt a chill creeping up from the back of his neck.

Gah!

I don't want to be Senior Sister, don't want to be a Dullahan!!!

Even in the most blasphemous dreams of his past life, this development was a bit too ahead of its time.

The impact on his worldview was no less than that Mud Truck twenty years ago that had sped over and sent him here.

It was utterly baffling.

"Are you alright?"

Seeing Kasgar suddenly burst with intense emotion, Fulgrim approached with concern, puzzled.

But, it wasn't over yet!

Even if the Chaos God was watching and rejoicing right now, Kasgar still had one last way out.

Yes, he could do it.

Having made up his mind, he smiled at the confused female Primarch and spoke:

"Fulgrim."

"You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen on Chemos."

"There are stars in your eyes."

Kasgar's gaze was full of affection.

"But, as a descendant of the Sherlock Family, I might need to go back and handle some matters."

Smiling, Kasgar retreated as fast as he could, waving goodbye.

Run!

According to his memories, Fulgrim had lived on this planet for a total of fifty years.

Then she would join the God-Emperor of Mankind, who had come to retrieve her, and take part in the Great Crusade sweeping across the entire galaxy.

The Great Crusade would last for centuries.

Until the Horus Heresy finally erupted, and Chemos, as the homeworld of the traitor legions, was blasted clean out of existence by Lion El'Jonson.

He still had over two hundred years.

Kasgar was confident he could die before the Heresy and the Exterminatus.

He had no idea if the Primarch turning into a woman would alter the timeline, but if he could refuse her and vanish into obscurity on Chemos, living out his life in peace...

As a dull and unremarkable man, the Chaos God Slaanesh, who craved the highest and most intense emotions, would surely lose interest in him.

Even if the Primarch fell in the future, Chemos would still usher in a new era before that.

Even if all of this was as brilliant and fleeting as a shooting star, even if the noble Fulgrim and the Third Legion later became puppets of the Chaos Gods...

What did that have to do with Kasgar, a dead man?

Thinking breeds heresy, my friend.

Having crossed into the Warhammer World, one should just muddle through in a daze.

Any thought of changing or saving anything would only bring greater suffering.

That was the eternal, unchanging rule of Warhammer.

"Stars?"

Fulgrim, hearing his flattery, bent down to look at him, her eyes brimming with delight.

"You know about stars too?"

Just as Kasgar had described.

In that instant, he truly saw the brilliant, myriad stars reflected in Fulgrim's pale purple pupils.

Before Kasgar, who was about to pull back, could react, the female Primarch's pale yet powerful hand firmly gripped his arm.

"Quickly, come with me."

Kasgar regretted it.

He shouldn't have cracked that joke.

He had forgotten that in Chemos's endless dust, there were no stars.

Apart from him and Fulgrim, both outsiders, no one remembered that stars shone beyond their world.

Now, he was being led by the Primarch with an irresistible force through the lower factories of Karax.

The layout here was extremely intricate.

Expanded machinery piled up in areas beyond the original design, making the already cramped space even more crowded and stifling.

It was hot, humid. Crowds of workers toiled here all day, never resting for a moment.

There was no helping it.

Chemos was originally just a mining planet.

After the Warp Storm swept across the entire galaxy, the people of Chemos, cut off from outside supplies, had to find a sliver of hope within these steel behemoths.

The pipelines that once produced steel were repurposed to produce food; the facilities that refined metal were refitted to refine water.

It was hard to use, and terribly inefficient.

But at least they were still alive.

They could only live.

Forgetting history, burning books.

Endless labor.

Everything on this planet served the single purpose of survival.

After many twists and turns, Fulgrim finally stopped before a low, battered door.

Through the door Fulgrim pushed open, Kasgar saw children whose faces lit up in an instant.

"Sister Fugen!"

Cheering joyfully, a dozen or so scrawny children living in this dark, cramped dormitory quickly crowded around.

They were all very young.

The reason was simple: if they were just a little older, they would have to work sixteen-hour days as child laborers in the factories.

These were the desperate measures humanity took to survive.

He had even heard that before Fulgrim arrived, the children's situation was far worse.

But fortunately, for now, they still had the right to enjoy what little remained of their "happy" childhood.

It was time for Fulgrim to tell the children a story.

As for the story's content, it came from a picture book left to Fulgrim by her adoptive parents, which recorded colors that had never existed in the gray lives of Chemos's people.

The pages were brittle and thin, but the ink remained vivid and lively.

Turning the book over, Kasgar leaned in to look at a page—it depicted a warrior in purple armor battling a gorgon.

Beyond that, the book also illustrated ancient gods and their lavish feasts.

As she read aloud, the children understood for the first time that food had a concept of taste beyond just hunger and fullness.

"Hooray!"

"I want to eat tasty starch bars too!"

But it seemed they had all interpreted it as starch bars with different flavors.

"Food isn't just starch bars."

Fulgrim corrected with a smile.

"Then it's a promise, Sister Fulgrim!"

"When we grow up, you'll throw us a 'banquet'!"

"We'll drink endless pure water and have starch bars that never run out!"

"Banquet! Let's have a banquet!"

"And you'll show us plays! With a big, tall theater! Sister Fulgrim will sit in the theater and tell us the best, most interesting stories!"

"See the plays!"

"I want to see the plays too!"

Young children could never sit still.

With Fulgrim's promises for the future, they bounced excitedly around the room.

"Mr. Sherlock."

At that moment, Fulgrim turned to look behind her. "Since you mentioned the stars, you must know some legends from the ancient era."

"Could you tell them—and me—a story?"

A story.

Kasgar fell into thought.

In his heart, he already had an answer.

It was a tale about the countless stars in the sky.

Beyond the endless dust storms of Chemos lay a boundless blue sky.

And above that blue sky were countless stars, big and small.

Each one of them was as vast as Chemos; each one housed countless humans.

But the humans living on those stars were not happy.

Some of them lived on planets as harsh as Chemos.

Some planets were livable, but the people there slaughtered each other for profit.

Other planets had been invaded by villains, and any humans who dared resist were killed, while the rest were doomed to eternal slavery.

Thus, humanity was scattered among the stars.

They called out to each other in the darkness, but could no longer hear one another's replies.

Until a hero stepped forward.

With wisdom, he built mechanical birds that flew, carrying seeds that turned wastelands into fields of flowers.

With starlight, he wrote books of truth, lighting the path forward so the lost could find their way home.

With magic, he summoned mighty Angels to protect humanity, and the villains fled in disgrace.

In the end, after he had lit up all the stars—

He had the mechanical birds, under the Angels' protection, carry countless healthy, joyful, rational, and steadfast kin to meet one another.

Just as they had before they were separated ten thousand years ago, they spoke and sang in the same language.

People laughed, reunited once more.

The fairy tale had ended.

The children gradually drifted into sweet dreams.

And the one who refused to wake up was always only him.

"Mr. Sherlock, you are the first person besides my adoptive parents to speak of stories beyond the stars."

Fulgrim smiled gently as she softly wiped the tears from the corners of Kasgar's eyes.

In some unseen way, she had long known her mission.

To lead countless humans out of the dark age of ignorance, to let humanity race back toward light, culture, and wisdom.

This was her, the Primarch Fulgrim's, innate goal.

Like a hero from one of Kasgar's stories.

But she did not wish to stir up more conflict on fragile Chemos.

A political marriage with the ruler of Karax Fortress was the fastest way she could think of to improve the world.

However, she seemed to have overestimated what the sky and ideals meant to the people of Chemos.

Compared to Fulgrim's flawless beauty and immense power, the allure of those "stars" that existed only in legends paled in comparison.

No one cared whether there might be countless beautiful lanterns flickering on and off in the sky.

The men of the Sherlock family she had encountered before were no different.

To survive, the people of Chemos had forgotten far too much, far too much.

But today, she seemed to have found a kindred spirit.

Someone who remembered that art and beauty, ideals and dreams, still existed.

She could feel his passion.

"Mr. Kasgar Sherlock."

"Would you join me, like in the stories, to save this Chemos that has forgotten the stars above its head?"

She extended her hand, offering an olive branch to the young man before her.

And Kasgar, as always, seemed to have an unexpected answer.

"No, Fulgrim. Not just Chemos."

Kasgar reached out and gripped her hand tightly, his bloodshot eyes fixed on her, silent for a long, long time.

Like countless foolish yet relentless pioneers before him, having made up his mind, he spoke:

"What I want to save is you."

And so, little Kasgar's life was completely ruined.