Clang.
With the final sword stroke, fewer than two hundred Space Marines of the Third Legion remained.
Fulgrim held up the blade in her hand, stained with a trace of blood, her eyes red-rimmed.
This had been the final request of the Space Marines afflicted with Withering Sickness—to have Primarch Fulgrim personally end their suffering.
And their lives.
"May your souls receive grace and protection, and enjoy eternal peace within those golden halls."
She offered the blessing softly.
They had not died gloriously on the battlefield, nor had they returned home in triumph and glory.
Instead, like frail old men, they had collapsed on an utterly ordinary new day on Chemos and never risen again.
This should not have been the fate of the warriors of the Third Legion.
Yet reality was never like a heroic drama, forever filled with tragic or stirring verses.
It always played an exceedingly cruel joke on you when you least expected it.
Even so, the road ahead still had to be walked on one's own two legs.
"Fulgrim."
"Now is the time for us to inherit their last wishes and rebuild the Third Legion into a model for the world."
Kasgar stepped forward and consoled her softly.
Having lived in such a harsh environment, the people of Chemos had long grown accustomed to partings in life and death.
Here, the best way to commemorate those who had departed was not to weep bitterly.
It was to carry their hopes for the future and bravely continue onward.
"You're right, Kasgar."
She gently wiped away her tears and smiled through them.
"Everyone, compose yourselves and carry the aspirations of your brothers and sisters in your hearts."
"The Emperor is still waiting for us!"
Once the sorrow of farewell had ended, the well-trained Space Marines of the Third Legion swiftly assembled.
They formed ranks in Chemos's lush green square, knelt on one knee, and awaited inspection by the Primarch and the Emperor.
Vespasian and the other two Legion commanders remained silent.
After the Legion master had fallen, the responsibility of leading the Third Legion had fallen upon the three commanders.
At that moment, he was deeply uneasy.
Although the Primarch could, and was willing to, rebuild the Legion, did they truly have the face to meet Fulgrim?
After all, he and the entire Third Legion were failures through and through.
The other Space Marine Legions in the Great Crusade, such as the valiant War Hounds, the silent and ruthless Twilight Commandos, and the swift, precise Star Hunters—
None of them had recovered their Primarchs, yet they had still performed admirably.
Only their Third Legion, let alone conquering worlds, had made mere survival an urgent problem.
Even if the Emperor said nothing of it, Vespasian could still feel his disappointment.
Would the Primarch accept this battered remnant of fewer than five hundred men and regard them as her children?
Vespasian did not know.
But he saw the tall and beautiful Primarch Fulgrim approaching them alongside the Emperor and another mortal.
Then she knelt on one knee before them as well.
"I have learned of your circumstances. The Third Legion has endured such a cruel fate, and it pains me beyond measure."
Hearing the Primarch's words, Vespasian lowered his head even further in shame.
"But—this is not your fault!"
"Just like the planet beneath our feet, it declined because of a Warp Storm. But decline does not mean we have lost hope!"
"Your duty is to reunite the scattered remnants of humanity among the stars. As your Primarch, I will lead you on a new expedition!!!"
"We are the Emperor's children, and we will make every one of those who look down on us understand that!"
"We are perfect warriors. We will not betray the Emperor's expectations."
"We—we never fail!"
Primarch Fulgrim was exceptionally skilled at inspiring others.
Whether it came from sincerity or simply talent for performance, Fulgrim's speech was perfect.
The Emperor was greatly pleased by her thunderous declaration.
He was even willing to bestow upon them the glorious name Sons of the Emperor as the proud name of their Third Legion.
He had rarely seen the Emperor show such a smile.
At least when facing the earlier Primarchs, he had always seemed stern and unsmiling. Only when he was with Horus or Malcador did he show much expression.
Or perhaps the Emperor preferred daughters?
Of course, that was merely Vespasian's own speculation.
The Emperor was very pleased.
He acknowledged Fulgrim and the Third Legion.
He also promised that he would contact the Martian Forge Master in the future and commission a Gloriana-class flagship for them as a gift for the Primarch's return.
(In truth, every Primarch had one, but the Emperor simply didn't mention it.)
The entire inspection proceeded extremely smoothly.
Of course, that was only true for Fulgrim.
For Kasgar, what he had witnessed today was truly rather worldview-shattering.
Especially when he learned that the Legion's Chief Apothecary was not someone called "Fabius," a name nobody had ever heard of, but Melusine.
Me-Melusine?!
That was simply horrifying.
When he had previously learned that the Third Legion and even other Legions had female Primarchs and female Space Marines, he had assumed they were no different from combat aunties.
But when he saw them in person, these huge women looked remarkably pleasing to the eye.
Perhaps it was because he had spent so much time around Fulgrim that his sense of beauty had changed;
Or perhaps the Third Legion's emphasis on appearance meant that they were not as unacceptable as he had imagined.
Or perhaps this time, G.I.D.A.'s female SM miniatures had not only sold, but sold very well?
Kasgar had no answer.
Still, he had met quite a few old acquaintances.
Chemos's new day had gradually climbed to its zenith, and the Emperor had already departed with his personal guard.
By Terra Standard Hour, it was now precisely midnight.
Before long, Fulgrim, Kasgar, and the first group of selected people from Chemos would board the Emperor's vessel, the Pride of the Emperor, and travel together to distant holy Terra.
There, they would undergo augmentation surgery and become true Space Marines.
For the moment, however, as Chemos's ruler, Fulgrim still had much time to arrange matters of cooperation between the Imperium of Man and the local people of Chemos.
While they traveled, according to the signed cooperation agreement, countless Adeptus Mechanicus sages in Red Robes, voidship crewmen, Imperial Truth missionaries, and Imperial bureaucrats of every rank began their work across this land.
Brand-new iron behemoths churned across the surface, while countless machines droned and roared.
Chemos, too, would enter a new era afterward.
As for the nearly two hundred remaining warriors of the Third Legion, the Sons of the Emperor—
They were still standing with meticulous discipline in the square, awaiting Fulgrim's next instruction.
After today, they would be led by Fulgrim and obey every command issued by their Primarch.
"Kasgar, if that's the case, then once you complete the augmentation, won't you have to listen to me in everything from then on?"
In response, Fulgrim merely leaned close to Kasgar with a sly smile.
She whispered softly.
Before you continue