The Great Crusade began in 798.M30 and ended in 999.M30.
During that time, the divided remnants of humanity were conquered one by one by the rising Imperium of Man and brought together as one.
Perhaps this was where a grand image displaying the Imperium of Man's achievements should appear, accompanied by equally majestic symphonic music, with a line beneath it—The victory of the Great Crusade.
To show just how important the completion of this mission was to humanity.
In any case, whether they were the vicious techno-barbarians, the two-legged livestock enslaved by xenos, or the ancient relics using leftover high technology to dream of pocket empires, none of them could stop the Imperium of Man's conquest.
The Emperor and his sons, along with the millions of Space Marines born for the Great Crusade, shed their blood and gave their lives to conquer the Milky Way.
Though there were conflicts and misunderstandings among them, they could all tolerate one another for the great cause of humanity's revival.
It was an age of light, an age of exploration and progress. All humanity believed they would drive away the darkness of the past and march toward a brighter future.
"Grandpa, this story is way too cliché."
Inside a wooden house standing atop a small hill, the young granddaughter lay across her grandfather's lap, protesting the story's predictable development.
It was winter, the season of falling snow. Outside the window, everything was quiet. The white snow reflected the equally bright moonlight. The granddaughter wore a blue sweater, while her grandfather curled up on a sofa beside the fireplace beneath a thick red blanket.
"I've heard stories like this too many times." Pouting, the granddaughter lightly thumped her grandfather's chest with her fists. "Something definitely went wrong next. The Great Crusade went from flourishing to