Lorgar's footsteps fell upon the streets of the City of Holy Edict, the capital of Colchis.
The ground was paved with clean alloy plates textured for traction. Towering buildings rose on either side, their lines straight and their style uniform, combining efficient practicality with an almost religious solemnity.
He rode in no vehicle, simply walking at an unhurried pace like an ordinary man returning home, surveying the homeland he had not seen in so long.
The hem of his robe swayed gently with his steps. His face still bore the pallor of his injuries, but his eyes were calm and deep, reflecting the immense city he had personally planned.
General Burn followed slightly behind him, maintaining just the right distance.
His initial nervousness had not entirely faded, but as their conversation deepened, a strange sense of ease gradually displaced some of his apprehension.
Never before had he spent time with a Primarch so closely and informally. Nor had he imagined that this lord of a Legion, a figure spoken of in legends as a god walking among men, who struck terror into xenos and traitors on the battlefield, could speak so gently in private, even showing the humility of someone willing to listen.
Lorgar asked about details, expressed approval of certain figures in his explanations, and posed incisive questions about particular stages of training. His tone remained level throughout, without any overbearing pressure, only a focused interest in the matters at hand.
This greatly eased Burn's discomfort, allowing him to report more fluently and occasionally even with a touch of a professional soldier's pride.
"My lord, military service on Colchis is voluntary."
"We do not conscript. Since our exemption from the Imperial tithe, people have enlisted more out of faith in you, admiration for the Legion's great undertaking, and the