Colchis Unification War

The work of clearing out the lingering poison of the Lot Diocese proved even harder and... more nauseating than expected.

That war of purification was like cauterizing a festering wound with a red-hot iron. On the surface, it looked charred and scabbed over, but deep within, the pus and poison still bred and spread where no one could see. Lorgar became the only doctor capable of performing "precise debridement." His unique golden cleansing fire was the most accurate tool for identifying and eradicating the remnants of Chaos.

Zhou Beichen watched as Lorgar emerged once again from a valley where abnormal growths had just been reported. There was a trace of poorly concealed exhaustion on the primarch's face, and a lingering burnt smell of purification still clung to his fingertips.

"How was it?" Zhou Beichen handed him a waterskin.

"Cleaned up." Lorgar took it and tipped back several mouthfuls, water running down his sharply defined jaw.

This was already the fifth similar incident handled that week. The affected areas were not large, but the frequency was terrifyingly high. And these were only the material-level contaminations visible to the naked eye.

Even more alarming were the reports from the Faith and Order Defense Bureau—the newly established department composed of the most loyal members, screened by Lorgar's psychic abilities, among the "lackeys."

"Secret gatherings" had begun resurfacing in remote villages. They no longer openly preached Lot's theory of the "Four Gods"; instead, they had become more covert and twisted. The reports described villagers gathering late at night, murmuring altered Covenant Church prayers, quietly replacing the objects of worship with the "Invisible Benefactor" or the "Shadow of Pleasure." They did no productive work, ranked at the bottom in accumulated work points, yet somehow displayed a sickly "happiness" with their current circumstances. Their eyes were hollow, and their faces bore the same fixed-curvature smiles as the residents of the Lot Diocese.

There were also "unknown mutations." No longer obvious tumors or hardened growths, but changes that were more internal and better concealed. One farmer was found to possess endurance far beyond that of an ordinary person. He could work for days without food or water and never collapse, but his emotions had become extraordinarily indifferent; even the death of his family left him unmoved. A young weaver suddenly gained astonishing, almost uncanny weaving skills, able to create patterns that seemed to pulse with life, but she began refusing normal food and drank only liquid mixed with spices and small amounts of her own blood.

The most serious incident was when a border outpost intercepted a wanderer attempting to infiltrate territory controlled by the Earthly Heaven. In a crudely stitched satchel made from human skin that he carried, they found patterns full of geometric paradoxes written in an unknown blood. According to his frenzied mutterings, he was carrying out the revelation of the "God of Tzeentch."

Though these incidents were swiftly extinguished, that pervasive, impossible-to-guard-against feeling coiled around Zhou Beichen's heart like an icy venomous snake.

"This can't go on." At the military meeting, Zhou Beichen slammed his fist onto the map marked with an increasing number of red points. "We're like a bunch of people trying to fight a fire with ladles! We put it out here, and it starts burning over there! There's only one Lorgar. He can put out the big flames, but he can't deal with every spark that flares up in secret!"

He drew a deep breath, his gaze sweeping over the grave-faced generals and administrators. An unprecedented sense of urgency weighed down on him.

"This Chaos crap has a fucking network effect when it spreads! If a corrupted node isn't removed in time, it can infect everything around it exponentially, like a virus splitting apart! We're racing it right now! Before all of Colchis is completely drowned in this stinking muck, we need to establish a unified global 'firewall' and 'immune system'!"

At that moment, he understood more clearly than ever the state of mind of that "Old Huang" from his memories—the Emperor of Mankind—during the Great Crusade. It was not a simple desire for conquest, but an iron-blooded measure forced upon him by a cancer that kept spreading and could destroy an entire species' civilization. Time was not on humanity's side. Every moment of delay let Chaos sink its roots deeper, multiplying the price that would have to be paid in the future tenfold. Knowing the road ahead was a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood, yet having no choice but to march across the bodies—the heaviness and... helplessness of it.

"Send the order!" Zhou Beichen's voice was decisive, carrying an unquestionable resolve. "Expand the army! Triple the size of the Faithguard Army! Cut the training period to the minimum! Give them priority access to equipment!"

"At the same time, send envoys to every region not yet under our control! Spread the doctrines of the New Covenant Church and the Earthly Heaven's work-point system! Those willing to accept assimilation and abide by the order of 'equivalent exchange' will be welcomed. We will provide technical and resource support, help them improve their lives, and bring them into our trade and defense system."

He paused, his eyes turning cold. "As for settlements and towns that refuse, remain stubbornly attached to the old Covenant Church doctrines, or... show any signs of secretly worshipping Chaos—"

He made a crisp gesture, like a sharp blade cutting through a tangled knot.

"Conquer them by force and forcibly integrate them! We don't have time to reason with them slowly anymore!"

Once the order was issued, the war machine of the Earthly Heaven began roaring into motion with unprecedented efficiency.

The recruitment offices were packed. Zhou Beichen skillfully linked enlistment to work-point incentives and family benefits, supplementing it with propaganda about "defending our homeland and resisting the enemy of the void." Military service was no longer seen as hard labor; instead, it became a path to rapidly elevate a family's status and income. New furnaces burned day and night, using captured and locally produced materials to forge more swords and armor.

Diplomatic delegations and trade caravans disguised as "lackeys" traveled among independent settlements and towns, carrying beautifully printed doctrinal pamphlets made from Colchis paper, samples of salt, and small glass products. They promoted the prosperity and order of the Earthly Heaven, displayed the miracles of new technology, and secretly assessed local conditions, marking potential resistance forces and hotbeds of Chaos.

Most small settlements chose submission after seeing tangible benefits and hearing doctrines like "equivalent exchange" and "labor creates heaven," which better matched the logic of their survival. After all, in the bitter cold of Colchis, they would follow whoever could fill their bellies and let them see hope.

But there were also diehards loyal to the old Covenant Church, as well as strongholds whose leaders had already been eroded by the whispers of Chaos.

Zhou Beichen did not hesitate over those.

Newly formed Faithguard Army units, brimming with youthful vigor and fervor, charged at their targets like unsheathed swords under the leadership of experienced veterans.

The fighting was not always easy. Some strongholds possessed formidable defenses, while others hid individuals who had gained bizarre powers through Chaos corruption. But the Earthly Heaven's army had stricter discipline, superior equipment, and, most importantly—they clearly understood the enemy they faced, and they had Lorgar, the divine son who could purify abnormalities and turn the tide at critical moments.

The process of conquest was inevitably accompanied by bloodshed and death. Zhou Beichen stood amid the ruins of a recently captured town, one that had once used living people in sacrificial rites. He watched soldiers escort prisoners away and clear the horrifying remains of altars from the square. The air was thick with the smell of blood and burning.

His stomach churned violently, but his gaze was cold as iron.

"Think it's cruel? Can't get used to it?" Lorgar had come to his side at some point. The primarch's keen senses had caught the fluctuations in his emotions.

Zhou Beichen wiped his face and exhaled a foul breath tinged with dust. "Fuck, back when I was at the exchange, the worst I did was ruin people financially. Now... I'm directly deciding the lives and deaths of tens of thousands." He gave a bitter laugh. "But I don't have a choice. If we leave this place alone, in less than three months it'll turn into another Lot Diocese. Then even more people will die, and their deaths will be meaningless. Even their souls will become snacks for those bastards."

He thought of the Emperor. The man seated upon the Golden Throne, who had launched a war that swept across the galaxy and destroyed countless human civilizations that did not conform to the Imperial Truth. He had once thought the Emperor cold, authoritarian, and devoid of human feeling. But now, he could understand a little of that sympathy born from being driven into a corner, with no other choice. When you bore the survival of an entire species on your shoulders and faced an enemy that could not be compromised with, one that had to be crushed by absolute force, so-called morality and mercy often became the first luxuries to be sacrificed.

"What we're doing is cutting away rotten flesh. It hurts, but it's necessary to save the patient's life." Lorgar's voice was calm. His golden cleansing fire allowed him to perceive the filth and danger of Chaos more clearly than anyone.

The expansion continued at an astonishing pace. The controlled territory on the map spread and bled outward like ink dropped into water. But the string in Zhou Beichen's heart only tightened further. He knew this was merely temporary suppression. The main forces of Chaos, those truly terrifying beings, were surely still watching this place—watching Lorgar.

Late one night, Zhou Beichen was still studying the next stage of the integration plan by lamplight after a busy day when the tent flap was lifted and Lorgar entered, his expression unusually grave.

"Father, I saw it." There was a faint tremor in Lorgar's voice, not fear, but a certain... sense of destiny.

Zhou Beichen looked up. "Saw what?"

"In meditation." Lorgar closed his eyes, as though recalling the shocking vision. "A... incomparably brilliant light, like a star, tore through the heavens. Within it stood a figure clad in golden armor, as majestic as a mountain. Simply standing there, he seemed to be the embodiment of the entire universe of order. His light drove away endless darkness and whispers."

Zhou Beichen's heart skipped violently. Golden armor... the Emperor?

"Then," Lorgar continued, his brow furrowing slightly, "another figure appeared. He was equally enormous, his skin deep red, like cooling lava. He... had only one eye, burning with the fire of knowledge and mysteries. Yet deep within that fire, there seemed to be endless sorrow and... fractures. He looked toward us, his gaze piercing through time and space."

One eye! A red giant! Magnus!

The charcoal pencil in Zhou Beichen's hand fell to the ground with a clatter.

He knew. The Emperor and Magnus were coming soon. The flames of the Great Crusade were about to formally reach the seemingly remote but already turbulent land of Colchis.

He truly did not have much time left.

Before those two true "giants" arrived, he had to completely integrate Colchis into a single unbreakable whole, establish a sufficiently solid defensive line of order, and... prepare for a negotiation with that "Old Huang" he called a "bastard," the man who carried humanity's last hope—a negotiation concerning Lorgar's fate, and perhaps the future balance of the galaxy.