Ancient Aristocrats

The golden-armored warrior's voice was muffled and raspy through his respirator, yet remained clearly audible.

Countless young men willing to sacrifice their lives for the Empire froze, unable to understand why Emperor's proxy would choose such a frail, wretched person.

But none dared to voice their dissent.

The Custodes wielded supreme authority granted by Emperor himself; they were his mouthpiece, representing his will in every sense.

"Huh?" The youth's mouth hung slightly agape as he stood there, dazed. Not understanding why the golden giant had selected him, he blinked in confusion and pointed a dull, trembling finger at himself: "Me?"

Without giving him time to react, two attendants in blue robes behind the golden giant lunged forward, seizing his arms without a word and dragging him toward the Twenty-First gate.

"My case! My case!"

At such a critical moment, the youth disregarded his own life. A burst of immense strength erupted from his withered frame as he struggled, shaking off the Gene-Warlock's attendants to lunge for his leather case.

Before he could reach it, a sharp pain shot through his leg. His body spun three hundred and sixty degrees in the air as the golden giant caught him by the ankle, dangling him upside down.

The Custodes watched with interest; the frail Li Tang looked like a captured, scrawny monkey in his grip.

"The case!"

Upon realizing the situation, the youth showed no fear. His face twisted into a snarl as he kicked back at the Custodes' gauntlet, ignoring the blood welling up from his mangled ankle.

"Snap." A crisp sound of bone breaking echoed out. Despite the consequences of his struggle, which caused his fragile lower leg to fracture on the spot, the youth continued his attack with fearless defiance.

The youth braced his other foot against the Custodes' arm, biting his lip to suppress a cry of pain, attempting to tear his own trapped leg free.

"Hmph!!!!!!"

The muffled sound of suppressed agony was clearly audible across the silent plaza.

On the ramparts, the Thunder Warriors and Astartes witnessing the scene felt a secret admiration. A mortal, even at the cost of self-mutilation, dared to resist those arrogant golden-armored warriors.

This tragic, heroic act was worthy of their respect.

The crowd kneeling on the ground was drenched in sweat. The sunlight, obscured by clouds of dust, seemed to pierce through the haze and burn fiercely into their wills.

Resist the Custodes? That was to resist the will of Emperor!

When the wanderer moved to tear his own muscle, the Custodes finally let go. The wanderer dragged his crippled body to the corner of the wall, clutching the small leather case to his chest.

"Admirable courage!" The Custodes spoke again, showing no anger at being defied, but instead loudly praising the wanderer.

The youth slung the case over his neck and raised a hand to stop the blue-robed men from helping him. Stubbornly, he lifted his head and said, word by word: "I will walk myself!"

With that, he leaned against the wall, struggled to his feet, and limped toward the Twenty-First gate.

As the high-speed elevator descended, one could see the outside world through the hollow iron grates, taking in the bustling, fervent scene.

Thick smoke billowed from the factories, and the hollowed-out mountains of the Himalayas were undergoing massive construction.

"This is my master's palace," the golden-armored warrior said casually, initiating the conversation with a tone full of pride. "Once completed, this magnificent palace will be the tallest structure on this planet."

The youth said nothing, clutching his beloved case. His eyes wandered, not looking at the scenery, lost in his own thoughts.

The Gene-Warlock reached out to wipe the fine sweat from his forehead without a trace, his lips twitching beneath his hood, yet he dared not make a sound.

It was fortunate that this Custodes had a good temper; anyone else would have already taught this ignorant, reckless wanderer a lesson by beating him a dozen times in a single second.

"What is that?" The Custodes, unbothered, pointed at the small case in the youth's arms and asked again.

The youth remained silent, subconsciously hugging the leather case tighter, his body tensing up in nervousness.

The Custodes did not dwell on it, nor would he dream of inspecting it.

Anyone appearing in the recruitment plaza had certainly passed security clearance; there would be no accidents.

Furthermore, he did not believe that a yellow-faced, skin-and-bones youth with a broken leg could stir up any trouble in front of Emperor's personal guard.

"What is your name?" the golden-armored warrior asked again.

This time, the youth reacted. He scrutinized the Custodes from head to toe with his black eyes, pondered for a moment, and then shook his head.

"A pity," the Custodes said, shaking his head helplessly. "I find you quite interesting—a man of such stubbornness. Your name would have been worthy of being inscribed inside my armor."

But in the youth's eyes, he caught a flicker of contempt—deep, yet undeniably real.

His fingers twitched slightly. The Custodes re-evaluated the youth, searching for something more, but ultimately found nothing.

The elevator began to decelerate, signaling their arrival. The youth's expression was calm, devoid of fear or anticipation. In a voice raspy from hunger and weakness, he asked the Gene-Warlock: "Will I die?"

"Yes!" the Gene-Warlock answered rationally without hesitation, then, remembering Emperor was nearby, added: "Or perhaps not!"

When the laboratory doors opened, the youth refused assistance, walking forward with stubborn determination despite being drenched in sweat.

Cold sweat streamed down his face, his teeth gritted in agony.

The Custodes watched and shook his head, unable to fathom where the youth's pride came from or why he was so stubborn.

"Plato~" The voice, filled with surprise, resonated from amidst a field of radiance.

It was vast as the sea and clear as a bell, yet carried a slight hesitation in its cadence, as if it had not spoken for a long time: "You have brought me an unusual gift."

Plato knelt on one knee, supporting himself with his spear. It had been a long time since the Custodes had heard Emperor's true voice; most of the time, that great, merciless tone echoed directly within his mind.

The youth heard the voice as well. He looked up, and then he saw the holiest radiance, the greatest leader, the most sacred countenance.

Everything was as he had seen in his dreams. So familiar, so intimate, so mesmerizing.

The young man's knees buckled uncontrollably, nearly forcing him to kneel on the spot to accept the admonition and become a servant.

Unexpectedly, he did not kneel.

At the very moment his knees bent, he forcibly stepped his broken leg forward, the agony from his bone marrow jolting him into wakefulness.

"Hypocritical illusion!" The young man kept his head raised, staring directly into the holy radiance, blood streaming from the corner of his mouth where he had bitten through his tongue.

His hoarse voice trembled, issuing a cry of eternal defiance: "Don't you dare deceive me! Don't you dare control me!"

The exhausted roar echoed through the laboratory; his clarity stunned the Custodes, stunned everyone present.

Emperor's personal guards had seen many men of iron will, yet every one of them had bowed before the radiance of Emperor.

This young man had truly used his willpower to resist the brilliance emanating from Emperor.

"Li Tang!" Emperor called out the young man's name—a surname passed down from the Earth era, representing a truly ancient noble bloodline.

"Who are you!" The moment Li Tang's name was spoken, his heart screamed in alarm; he wanted to turn and flee, only to find his body paralyzed.

He felt as though his entire being had been laid bare. Every thread of his thought was perceived by the radiant figure, his past and future scrutinized.

Li Tang felt... no! He was certain that he was like a book, naked and defenseless, being read page by page.

"You do not know me, and before this moment, I did not know you." Emperor stood within the radiance, a rare smile touching his lips: "But I knew your genetic ancestor!"

Only distrust remained in Li Tang's eyes; he would not believe such nonsense!

The golden figure had said "knew," not "met." This implied that the shimmering man before him had lived for at least thirty thousand years!

"Hmm~" Emperor felt a rare moment of nostalgia, the True One Armor tapping lightly against the floor: "In the seventh century, he established a powerful, unified dynasty on this land. Heavenly Khan! I remember clearly that this is what the people called him back then."

"Ten thousand nations came to pay tribute, and the four barbarians submitted." Emperor recited a phrase using an ancient pronunciation.

Those present could not hear the words, but the power of Emperor made them understand the meaning.

Custodes Plato looked at the defiant Li Tang, a sense of relief in his eyes as he understood where the frail young man's pride originated.

A bloodline that had endured the Age of Ignorance, survived the Age of Expansion, and witnessed the Golden Age—it was truly entitled to look upon anyone with disdain.

The so-called nobility of Terra today were factions that had been conquered by or had voluntarily joined the Imperium of Man, ennobled by Emperor himself.

Though they possessed legitimacy and authority, in terms of the sheer antiquity of their bloodline, they were as different from the man before them as clouds are from mud.

"Although I despise fate, I must marvel at its wonder. At the dawn of a great era, there are always those who inexplicably converge."

"Li Tang. Named after a great dynasty." Emperor said: "I see your pride, your defiance, your resentment, and your confusion."

"It is there! Something no one can achieve now!" Emperor pointed toward the blood-stained operating table: "I offer you a chance now, a power that can allow you to recreate the glory of your ancestors. Are you willing to seize it?"

Li Tang looked at the operating table, then back at Emperor.

He saw through the golden figure's rhetoric; although it was highly inflammatory, he knew he had no choice.

He did not believe that refusing would allow him to walk out of here alive.

"Keep this safe!" Li Tang handed the leather bag in his hand to the golden-armored warrior, then, without a moment's hesitation, climbed onto the operating table.