35 Judgment Day (IV)

Karyl opened his eyes and left the kingdom that had been built with his power. He couldn't stay long; the place had welcomed him, and that was the problem.

It welcomed him so warmly.

It was almost weeping and pleading with him to stay there permanently, promising him everything and granting him supreme power.

As always, Karyl put it out of his mind.

In the dark hall, the Raven Guard slept peacefully. More than 60,000 men—a huge number, but still far too few for a legion. This also indirectly confirmed the truth of something— Horus was deliberately controlling the number of men in the Nineteenth Legion.

Why? For easier control? Karyl had the answer, but he was too lazy to explain.

Primarch are extremely emotional beings. They are endowed with extraordinary power and intelligence, but that is not enough, far from enough. These two things can always be abused; the only difference lies in the degree of abuse.

Horus Lupercal, the Radiance god of wolves, a paragon of brotherly love and respect, and the one who created the Terra Raven Guard. Two extremes, two opposites, two completely different examples.

Primarch, Legion.

Legions, Primarch.

Two mirrors, and mortals carrying the blood of the Primarch were reborn as Astartes, possessing faces similar to their fathers. They should have been closer to Corax in some ways. However, as things stand, they are actually closer to Horus.

You have to admit how absurd this is, and you have to feel embarrassed about the situation that Kolus Corax found himself in.

Of all the Primarch, he returned the latest, and he just so happens to be an idealist. His ideals might succeed on one or two planets, but in the grand scheme of the galaxy, they are an unattainable and foolish joke.

Every idealist's life is a continuous struggle, the gap between imagination and reality causing them repeated heavy blows. In this process, some will transform, some will go mad, and some will ultimately take their own lives.

Which category does Kolaus Corax belong to?

Karyl had no answer, nor did he bother to think about it. More accurately, he was incapable of thinking about it.

He could only watch; he could only watch.

He saw the Raven Guard stand up.

Kolaus Corax once said it was a Judgment, and yes, it was. But in his context, the Judgment was placed after the trial.

Those who fail the trial will spend the rest of their lives atoning for what they have done; they will not die, their honor will not be erased, nor will their names.

They will simply be forever separated from the Primarch and the Legion.

For the Raven Guard, this was worse than death. Corax's Mercy was, in a way, the poison they least wanted to drink, but they had no choice. That's just how cruel things are.

When a legion is branded with the mark of another Primarch, this is something that is bound to happen.

This isn't right.

Karyl frowned; his perspective on the world seemed to be veiled by a thin gauze.

From this perspective, time becomes useless, and his own angle of observation of the world becomes detached and indifferent, as if he were an observer watching someone else's life from a third-person perspective.

Everything no longer felt real, but rather became a simple description that could be explained in a few words.

Only when the bell tolled in his ears did he realize what had happened.

He experienced too many wars.

The dead were countless, and every battle surpassed his previous understanding of the word, whether it was the Astartes, the Auxilia, or those who refused to surrender. Every dead roared in his mind.

The Abhumans sergeant needed to cross the line between life and death to hear their calls, but he did not. Their calls, pleas, and screams were all clearly audible. Under the influence of their power, they surged forth, more terrifying than a tsunami.

He lost a clear grasp and sense of scale over each day he experienced, and began to observe everyone and everything with a completely detached attitude. Even if he wanted to say or do something, he couldn't.

Is this the price? Or is it the revenge of the dead?

In a meaningless span of time, he witnessed the Raven Guard rising, another sermon by Kolus Corax, and the departure of the Raven Guard a few days later.

He also saw Konrad Curze Curze's slightly doubtful look, heard his question, and his own answer.

"War changes everyone, Konrad Curze," he heard himself say. "You've come to understand that any sacrifice is acceptable compared to what we're fighting."

Konrad Curze Curze remained silent for a long time. The Night Lords used his talent once more, and then he said nothing more, only smiling sadly.

Time stretched out again, Karyl tried to linger there, trying to explain to Konrad Curze Curze, trying to say something.

Unfortunately, he couldn't do it.

Karyl sighed slowly, turned his head, and saw a ray of golden light shining from the darkness, and the heavy sound of the scepter hitting the ground.

"This is their Judgment upon you; you, as a god, have failed them," said the figure in the golden light. "I told you to use your power cautiously, but you wouldn't listen. Look at yourself now, Karyl Lohars, are you satisfied?"

He paused for a moment, then spoke again with a hint of reproach.

"Corax can solve his own problems. You could have simply offered a suggestion or two instead of intervening personally. The Veil is the Veil; it is not lenient towards them, and naturally it will not be lenient towards you."

"Are you complaining?" Karyl asked.

"It sounds like it," another person said.

He gripped his scepter tightly, his silver hair slicing across his aged face, his eyes sharp as a hawk's. "But you deserve these complaints, Karyl Lohars. You did something foolish."

Haven't I done enough?

"None of these are as foolish as this," the Sigillites said. "How much humanity do you have left?"

Karyl did not answer the question, but simply lowered his head. With his movement, the surrounding environment suddenly changed, and the broken glacier reappeared.

Most of the ice that could be called land had disappeared, leaving only the one where the three of them were standing, which could still be considered intact.

"It's already like that." Malcador shook his head, seemingly in surprise, yet also with a sigh.

"You should have accepted my initial suggestion to stay in Terra, away from the war, and contribute to the Great Crusade in another way. Going to the front lines yourself will only allow the power hidden beneath your skin to swell even further."

"Hmm," Karyl nodded, squinting. He was examining his right hand, where faint cracks had appeared on his palm.

A figure emerged from the golden light and, like a doctor, grasped Karyl's wrist with unwavering authority. He wore a laurel wreath, had dark skin, and a furrowed brow. After a moment, a golden light shone from his hand, and under its illumination, the cracks were somewhat mended.

"This is all I can do," The Emperor said solemnly. "If you had another chance, you would surely ascend to godhood."

"I will be more careful, esteemed doctor."

"Don't joke around."

Malcador raised his scepter and tapped it on the ground.

"The future remains uncertain. What you've done might make it a little better, or it might make it worse. Personally, I think it's incredibly foolish of you to use your power to save a bunch of Great Astartes. Look at what you've gotten, is it worth it?"

"If these Great Astartes can kill one more enemy and save one more human being in the future, will my actions still be considered foolish?"

"Equally foolish, and not worth it." Without the slightest hesitation, Malcador nodded. "Your endless self-sacrifice is no different from that of the glittering emperor standing beside me; both are outward manifestations of mental illness."

"You two are equally stupid and insane. Now is clearly not the time for you to act so frequently. Why don't you conserve your strength? The darkness of the future has already extended its tentacles to us in some way."

The Sigillites suddenly stopped lecturing and shook his head with a hint of helplessness.

He already knew his words were meaningless; the only response his golden the Emperor and this god in human skin gave him was a similar smile.

A smile full of apology, but with no sign of remorse.

"Do you know how much time has passed?" the Sigillites asked.

"Six years? Seven years?" Karyl raised an eyebrow, guessing with slight interest.

"No," The Emperor interjected, "It's been a full eighteen years."

Karyl's smile finally disappeared from his face.

"Eighteen years?" He frowned. "Why is the backlash so severe?"

"Because you rejected them too many times, all the discontent and some kind of call from the power itself piled up, forming a bomb," Malcador sighed, answering his question.

"You even lit the fuse yourself; you awakened the dead from their slumber, but you only awakened those you chose to. What about the rest? They too had their grievances, their hatred—hatred for you. And you—"

"--And I accept all comers." Karyl narrowed his eyes. "I see, this power has taken Vengeance on me."

"Now it is the nine hundred and sixty-fourth year of the thirtieth millennium," The Emperor began calmly.

"Konrad Curze Curze has governed Nostramo very well. He and Roboute Guilliman have undertaken numerous collaborations, and several worlds within the Ghoul Stars are now under Nostramo's control. You currently have three Forge World, twelve Agri World, and twenty-three mining worlds."

Karyl paused for a moment, then rubbed his face. "How did he do that?"

"Because he also has a deep collaboration with the Mechanicum." The Emperor shook his head. "Konrad Curze Curze has made good use of Nostramo's unique advantages, but that's not the most important thing right now. You should go back to the real world, Karyl."

"Over the years, your overly detached perspective has accelerated the Night Lords' conquest efficiency, but it has also caused your anchors to waver and doubt. You need to stabilize them."

Your description of them sounds like you're describing tools.

The Emperor's lips twitched, appearing to smile slightly. "Tools come in all shapes and sizes, some handy, some not. Wake up. You are in orbit around the Khur, with the Ultramarines and Roboute Guilliman."

He sighed, his expression a mixture of emotions.

Yes, this is a big project. Judgment Day isn't just about Judgment the Raven Guard; more on that.