The Legion Buried by History!

What the hell?!

Alvin felt as if he'd been struck by lightning. His mind was on the verge of overload, and a blank haze engulfed him.

On the back of an ancient badge, two Chinese characters had been engraved? For a moment, he even felt as though he'd been tricked. This had to be Tzeentch's scheme!

"That's impossible! How could this be?!"

As if he'd seen a ghost, Alvin flung the medal away and shrank back against the headboard. His pupils contracted to pinpricks as he stared fixedly at the medal on the floor, bloodshot eyes wide, muttering, "Impossible. Impossible.

Impossible—"

Seeing Alvin's strange reaction, Viktor silently walked over and bent to pick up the fallen medal. Its inscription had been blurred by the ravages of time, and its surface was covered in red rust. He carefully wiped away the dust that wasn't there, then sighed softly, his eyes filled with complicated emotions. "The Marshal was right. You really can read this script."

Huff, huff...

Alvin's chest heaved as he gasped for breath. His contracted pupils remained fixed on the medal in Viktor's palm, and he seemed almost possessed.

"This isn't an order from the Marshal, and it has nothing to do with the Emperor himself. It's simply something I personally want to know. You don't have to answer." Viktor's eyes were filled with intense curiosity and complicated emotions. "This script belongs to one of the human civilizations lost to history, its records hidden away in Terra's archives. In the entire Imperial Palace on Holy Terra, only the Emperor, Malcador, Vaul, and the successive Lord Commanders of the Imperial Guard are known to have been able to read and write it. How do you know it?"

"I—"

Alvin opened his mouth, but couldn't answer.

Should he tell this Lord Commander