Sagittarius, Golden Ring

Perhaps Kasgar would die a miserable death.

Each of the Chaos Gods had something extraordinary about them, each with their own unique tricks.

The Dark Prince Slaanesh was the most extravagant and ruthless player among them.

His fighting spirit and patience astonished all; his various magical little toys were even more capable of bringing unexpected surprises.

And in a shithole world like this, having ideals was humanity's most terrible taboo.

Once someone had ideals, once they possessed the fighting spirit to lead people out of this shithole of a world, the only fate awaiting them in the future was inevitable failure.

Under the influence of the Chaos Gods, all beauty would eventually fade, and every aspiration would eventually be twisted.

Humanity could only go on barely surviving forever.

Just like these people of Chemos.

Warhammer was just that fucked-up a world.

Even the mighty God-Emperor of Mankind could not change that outcome.

What could he, a mere mortal, possibly accomplish?

Kasgar had known all this long ago.

This was still only the era of 30K, and the Warp's influence over reality was not yet strong.

He should have been grateful for that.

If he cast aside his ideals and ambitions here, staying as far away from the Primarch before him as possible, perhaps he really could escape the control of the Chaos Gods.

But... Kasgar might be able to escape Chaos and do the backstroke through this shithole, but what about them?

Rylanor.

Vespasian.

Kallian Zaven.

Saul Tarvitz.

Akur Duna.

Solomon Demeter.

And Fulgrim, standing before him, so full of ideals and hope.

What would happen to them?

The Loyalists who sacrificed themselves on Istvaan III, the heroes who gave everything for humanity's tomorrow, the lost souls who were led astray by the schemes of the Chaos Gods...

What would happen to them?

"Fulgrim. You are the one I want to save."

Kasgar raised his head to look at her. The fighting spirit in his eyes was almost tangible, as though it had condensed into countless golden-red sparks.

Perhaps accepting one's fate was the optimal solution in the Warhammer universe.

But not for Kasgar.

If no intervention was made, then in the near future, noble Fulgrim and the Third Legion would fall into the trap of the Chaos God Slaanesh and become that evil god's eternal, ugly slaves.

Even their heads would become pointy.

He would save Fulgrim, and save the entire Third Legion, the Sons of the Emperor, from Slaanesh's clutches.

He had to do it.

Kasgar silently made up his mind:

If he could save the Third Legion, then even if it meant marrying Fulgrim, the most beautiful woman in the universe, he would gladly do it.

But first, he had to survive.

He had to live until the Emperor descended upon Chemos, until Chemos returned to the Imperium of Man.

Chemos was currently heavily polluted, and people's average lifespan did not exceed thirty years.

That was why Fulgrim's several companions in the original work had all been so tragically short-lived.

Kasgar could not die such a pathetic death.

And as long as he could survive until the Emperor arrived on Chemos thirty years later, he could, like Corvus Corax, Lorgar, and Perturabo—weren't they all traitors?—use his close relationship with the Primarch to pull some strings and become a partially augmented Space Marine, joining the Great Crusade!

Only by undergoing Space Marine augmentation and becoming a mighty warrior with two hearts and three lungs could he gain some possibility of changing the future.

As for what he would do after joining the Great Crusade, that was not something Kasgar needed to consider for now.

After all, the Primarch had become a woman, and it was still unclear whether the Third Legion was now the Sons of the Emperor or the Daughters of the Emperor.

Who knew whether the threads of fate might shift as a result?

"...Save me?"

Hearing Kasgar loudly declare that he wanted to save her, Fulgrim covered her mouth and chuckled.

As a demigod Primarch created by the God-Emperor of Mankind, she had possessed the ability to sense others' emotions from birth.

This resolute Kasgar was not deliberately trying to show off how different he was in front of her.

He truly wanted to save her from the bottom of his heart.

Save her?

As one who was flawless and perfect, did Fulgrim truly need to be "saved"?

Yet his emotions did not seem to be a joke.

Interesting.

Fulgrim naturally developed a little... interest in Kasgar.

Resting her cheek on one hand, she watched him with amused curiosity.

"Then, Mr. Sherlock, how do you intend to save me?"

That was a good question.

He was not going to be like those old Eldar mystics and dump everything he believed would happen in the "future" all at once, only to step into every pitfall along the way.

His top priority was to raise her affection first, then slowly remove the hidden traps left behind by the Chaos Gods.

But... how was he supposed to raise a girl's affection?

That touched upon a gap in Kasgar's knowledge.

Compared with making girls happy, he seemed to have spent more of his time and energy on other things in his previous life.

Otherwise, he would not have transmigrated here.

Aside from devouring Warhammer original novels and fanfiction every day, how could he possibly have read any romance nov—

Ah!

After pondering for a moment, an excellent, though not particularly moral, idea popped into Kasgar's mind.

"Fulgrim, may I ask you to teach me a few things?"

One month.

During the month after they met, Kasgar often slipped out of the Manor through a hidden door and came to her to ask about mechanics, minerals, carving, and even swordsmanship.

The guards in purple clothes seemed to turn a blind eye to it.

Over that month of interaction, Fulgrim gradually came to like this somewhat stubborn little fellow.

Although Kasgar repeatedly protested against being called "little fellow," her overwhelming advantages in both size and knowledge allowed her to keep the title.

And during that month, Kasgar had been quietly preparing something.

Something major.

"You're saying this is for me?"

Fulgrim looked at the treasure in Kasgar's hands, her eyes full of curiosity.

Today, Kasgar had presented her with a special gift.

A Golden Ring that he had crafted with his own hands.

Gold, a metal that could neither be eaten nor forged into weapons and was useless except for its beauty, was not beloved by the people of Chemos.

But in Fulgrim's eyes, she saw the existence of beauty.

On the ring was carved a lifelike Centaur.

Sagittarius, Golden Ring.

Its craftsmanship might not compare to Fulgrim's or that of other master sculptors, but this plain, somewhat crude ring contained a rare artistic air for Chemos.

And Kasgar had chosen Sagittarius, the constellation that symbolized the stars, as the gift he gave her.

"Fulgrim, please listen to me."

"Perhaps one day, we will leave Chemos together and fly into the sky."

"Like in a fairy tale, we will travel with countless mechanical birds to other planets, saving those who have been scattered across the world and still suffer."

"Our ideals will become one from then on, inseparable from each other."

"But the road will not always be smooth."

"Perhaps in the future, we will face challenges we cannot overcome and fall into endless suspicion and pain."

"If one day you are about to be crushed beneath it all."

"Please remember what I am about to say."

Kasgar paused for a moment, took the Primarch's hands in his, and raised his head to look at her.

He could guarantee that he absolutely had not just been recalling the phrasing of some stock passage.

Because he had long since memorized it.

"Fulgrim, you will always be my Sagittarius."

"No matter where you gallop in the future, I will always be by your side."

"This is our promise."

Even a Primarch famed for art and beauty could not help but blush when faced with such a heartfelt declaration of love.

"...Smooth talker."

She let out a soft, tinkling laugh and put it on.

"But I like it very much."

"Where did you learn all that?"

"The End and the Death"—Part II—Section 2: Master of Mankind.

That was the answer to the question.

"Well... that's a secret."

Kasgar gave an embarrassed chuckle.

"But I can guarantee it definitely wasn't from a romance novel."

Terra.

The ancient Roman-style bathhouse was extravagantly magnificent, its marble carvings complementing the resplendent gemstone inlays.

He was here, in this place.

Chatting about the future with his children, enjoying this hard-won moment of leisure.

Suddenly, as though he had sensed something, he frowned and looked up into the void.

His expression was strange and awkward.

"What is it, Father? Did you sense some dangerous sign?"

Seeing this, the enormous body over three meters tall beside him immediately tensed and coiled, ready to meet any threat that might come at any moment.

He let out a helpless sigh.

"It is nothing, my child. Just a small matter. Let us continue."

At this moment, there were still thirty years until the Emperor descended upon Chemos.