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I had spoken with several old shamans, and from them I learned that long before Nocturne returned to the Imperium, its people had already regarded Death Volcano as a kind of incarnation—a peculiar image that could, to a certain extent, represent this world.

It should have been nothing more than nonsense. Like how people on other worlds regarded their natural wonders, the mystique ought eventually to have faded with time. Yet after trial after trial, the ever-shifting terrain and endlessly colliding tectonic plates had, in a very real sense, shaped this volcano into the center of the world.

Now, I stood thousands of meters in the air and looked down. It was astonishingly vast.

Its central region consisted of hundreds of enormous craters, black and red alike, billowing thick smoke, as well as countless lava pits. For ten thousand years, even during the snowbound depths of winter, the heat in the heart of this volcano had never gone out. Magma and flame continuously erupted forth, spreading ever onward across the surrounding land.

Within the Salamanders' fortress-monastery stood an ancient archive dating back to the Legion era. It contained many books passed down from the ancient age of Nocturne, including quite a few exceedingly old topographical maps. And if one traced the records back to the earliest times, one would discover that Death Volcano had been nowhere near as immense as it was today.

In other words, it had always been expanding.

Aggressively expanding.

Slowly, yet irresistibly.

—A Study of the Primitive Worship of Death Volcano and Its Related Culture

Author: Mek Gawn, Imperial scholar.

—

Karyl closed the book.

Its author, Mek Gawn, was the only scholar within the Imperium recognized by the Salamanders, permitted to set foot upon their homeworld for travel and academic pursuits.

He had first been