"Is there anything else you require?"
Caelan gently tucked the blanket around the infant and turned to look at the young girl standing in the doorway.
Sapphire maintained a respectful posture, her silver-grey hair gleaming with a cold sheen under the lumen lights. Dorn had left after giving brief instructions. As the chieftain of the Dorn Clan, he couldn't spend all his time entertaining an outsider, so he assigned his granddaughter, Sapphire, to attend to Caelan.
It was both service and surveillance.
"Sapphire, how old are you?"
Sapphire answered, "I'm eleven years old."
Inwit had no day or night cycle, but they still used standard years to measure time.
On almost every human colony, the local standard year was the Terran year.
"What a coincidence, Calliphone is also eleven."
"Who is Calliphone?"
"Calliphone is Perturabo's sister, just like you are a Primarch's sister."
Sapphire frowned in confusion. "But I don't know anyone named Perturabo."
Caelan pointed to the sleeping infant. "There is more than one primarch. He is also a primarch."
Sapphire stood on tiptoe, leaning forward curiously. "This child is Perturabo?"
"He is Rogal Dorn."
"Is he also a child of the Dorn Clan?"
"Not before, but he is now."
"You come from Terra. Are Calliphone and Perturabo also from Terra?"
"They are Olympians."
Sapphire tilted her head slightly in confusion. "How can you visit so many worlds?"
A gentle smile played on Caelan's face. "I came to find the Primarchs. Where the Primarchs are, I am."
Their conversation seemed casual, but the young girl had been subtly probing, trying to get him to talk.
Caelan saw through it, but he didn't care. There was nothing to hide.
On the contrary, Sapphire was acting very strangely.
Dorn and his sons were experienced warriors, yet they brought a young granddaughter along on a dangerous trek across the ice. This was clearly unusual.
This wasn't an outing. Any unnecessary burden could endanger the entire team.
This hinted at Sapphire's special status among them. She was no dead weight; she might even be the core of the squad.
An ordinary young girl couldn't be the core unless she possessed some extraordinary talent.
For example, being a psyker.
If Sapphire were a psyker, her psychic powers could indeed protect the others in deadly blizzards.
But Dorn had deliberately concealed Sapphire's special nature and arranged for her to serve Caelan. The purpose was obvious.
This was understandable. Caelan would also be wary of a stranger appearing out of nowhere.
Especially since Caelan's timing was far too coincidental.
Precisely at the critical moment of the war between the Dorn Clan and the Rahn Clan, a mysterious outsider appeared on the ice field with an infant, happened to meet the Dorn Clan chieftain, and was conveniently brought back to the Dorn Clan's ice-hive. It was hard not to question his identity.
Sapphire might look like an eleven-year-old girl, but as Dorn's granddaughter, she was far from the innocent child she appeared to be.
The Dorn Clan was Ice Caste. Regardless of gender, children underwent strict military training from a young age. Someone too naive, even Dorn's granddaughter, would be eliminated.
Though Dorn had left, ostensibly to handle clan affairs, he was likely eavesdropping.
There might even be three hundred axe-wielding warriors hidden outside, ready to burst in at a moment's notice.
"I think he's awake." Sapphire's voice was very soft.
Caelan turned. Rogal Dorn lay quietly in the crib, his clear, bright eyes fixed on him.
Caelan wrapped the infant in a blanket and gently lifted him into his arms.
Rogal Dorn was surprisingly cooperative, neither crying nor struggling, simply observing his surroundings with curious eyes.
Caelan held him steady, his tone very serious. "From now on, your name is Rogal Dorn. And I will be your father."
Caelan gently turned the baby's face towards Sapphire. "This is Sapphire, your sister. Understand?"
Rogal Dorn blinked, seemingly processing the information.
His gaze shifted between Caelan and Sapphire, finally settling on Caelan's face. He let out a babbling sound.
Sapphire said in surprise, "He seems to understand."
"That's a Primarch for you. They reach adulthood in six months and can conquer a world by age three."
Sapphire couldn't resist reaching out to touch the baby's cheek. Rogal Dorn immediately turned to her, babbling, "Jie jie..."
"It's 'sister'!" Sapphire immediately frowned, correcting him. Rogal Dorn earnestly corrected his pronunciation, "Jie jie jie... jie... sister..."
He then looked back at Caelan, opening his little mouth to form a clear syllable, "Baba."
...
"Did he really come just for that child?" Old Dorn muttered to himself. "Why did he name him Rogal Dorn?"
Probus wondered, "Maybe to curry favor with us?"
A flicker of disappointment crossed Old Dorn's eyes. If Probus had such shallow wisdom, how could he ever lead the Dorn Clan?
Probus asked cautiously, "Father, he claims to be from Terra, but Terra cut off contact with us thousands of years ago. The orbital defense array didn't issue any warnings. Do you really believe him?"
Inwit's political system was very unique.
Each ice-hive was a highly autonomous political entity, controlled by the Ice Caste clan that ruled it.
Over a hundred hive cities' Ice Caste clans formed a loose alliance through the Inwit Imperial Council, jointly managing the orbital fleet and the affairs of their vassal worlds.
The Ice Caste's influence was not limited to Inwit. Their members not only served in the orbital fleet but also ruled as governors over vassal worlds.
However, the expansion of the Inwit Empire had not changed the fundamental political landscape of Inwit. Each ice-hive retained considerable independence, and inter-clan conflicts had never ceased.
This was the way of life chosen by their ancestors. They believed this method would keep their spirits strong and prevent decadence.
No Ice Caste was willing to submit to the rule of another clan. The cost of unifying Inwit was too high for any clan to bear.
Shared governance was a compromise among the various factions, but such a model was not without precedent in human history.
It was said that during the first wave of human interstellar expansion, the nations on Earth failed to unify and instead cooperated through a joint government.
Over time, the human civilization of the Golden Age had developed into a galactic-wide interstellar federation. The concept of nations had long since disappeared, but individual worlds still maintained a high degree of autonomy.
Humanity had never truly been unified.
Old Dorn asked his son, "Why did we risk leaving the ice-hive?"
Probus answered, "To track the falling meteor. According to the orbital defense array's calculations, it was definitely not a natural object. It's likely related to the Warp."
Old Dorn nodded. "It was a landing craft. Perhaps that's how they came to Inwit."
Probus frowned, "But he claims he came for that child. If the child arrived on Inwit via a landing craft, where did he come from?"
Old Dorn said, "That doesn't matter. He believed me when I told him the Dorn Clan was facing extinction."
The Dorn Clan had indeed made many enemies, but the threat of extinction was purely exaggerated.
As one of the most powerful clans on Inwit, they ruled more than one ice-hive.
These Hives had been seized from other Ice Castes. They were lucky if they didn't destroy other clans.
The Rahn Clan had indeed launched a war and received covert support from other clans. But their goal was merely to seize an ice-hive and gain a seat on the Council.
Old Dorn deliberately exaggerated to test Caelan's reaction. And Caelan's reaction seemed genuine.
He was very confident, seemingly unafraid of any danger.
But he was also completely ignorant of Inwit's political landscape.
If he was acting, then his acting skills were truly superb.
Probus, "But he could also be acting."
"Regardless of the truth, it's no longer important." Old Dorn slowly shook his head. "If they truly come from Terra, Inwit cannot remain aloof from the coming changes."
"Even if they aren't from Terra, accepting them brings no harm."
Probus lowered his voice, "Father, do you truly believe in Sapphire's prophecies?"
"We've all witnessed her power. What reason is there to doubt?"
"But she's just a child. Prophecies don't always come true!"
"The children of the Dorn Clan are also formidable warriors." Old Dorn replied calmly. "The world that birthed us taught us never to let our guard down. The price of weakness is death."
"If we are too weak to accept reality, then the Dorn Clan may indeed face catastrophe."
"We established the Inwit Empire in this star cluster. But compared to the vast galaxy, our empire is but a drop in the ocean."
"I believe there are many other empires in the galaxy like ours. Why couldn't one of them rise to unify humanity again?"
Probus fell silent, but his brow remained furrowed.
Old Dorn slowly continued, "Probus, do you know how we conquered other worlds?"
Probus answered without hesitation, "Because we have a powerful fleet."
Old Dorn chuckled and shook his head. "It's because our civilization never suffered a technological collapse."
...
Walking across the ice-hive's bridge, Caelan couldn't help but marvel.
"Even among all the human worlds in the galaxy, Inwit is one of the best-preserved civilizations!"
Compared to other primarchs' homeworlds, Inwit was in a league of its own.
Inwit wasn't a single world, but a pocket empire centered on Inwit, with its own space fleet, ruling an entire star cluster.
Only Macragge and Chogoris came close. Macragge maintained faint contact with surrounding worlds via sub-light ships, and Chogoris traded with nearby worlds using faster-than-light vessels.
But neither matched Inwit's pocket empire. An achievement none of the other primarchs' homeworlds had reached!
Other primarchs inherited city-states, tribes, gangs, and knightly orders. Only Rogal Dorn was born in Rome.
Though Inwit's surface was barren and inhospitable, with no valuable resources to exploit, the hundreds of ice-hives beneath were very livable. These cities, buried deep in the ice, sheltered hundreds of millions of people and had consistently maintained a technological level inherited from the Golden Age.
"You are truly fortunate."
Caelan looked down at the infant in his arms, gently stroking his soft cheek.
No matter how hard the stone, a child's face is soft.
Caelan looked up at the ice-hive's high dome. The light of the lumen lamps played across the metal bridges, illuminating the grandeur of this underground city.
The ice-hive extended several kilometers underground, but it wasn't an inverted pyramid structure placed underground. Instead, the entire hive city was vertically buried.
The city's layout was the same as a standard hive: the underhive at the bottom, the spires at the top.
The highest spire connected to the elevator leading to the surface. Its tip extended out of the ice field, the only gateway between the surface world and the underground.
Caelan stood at the bridge's edge, looking down thoughtfully. "Do people live in your underhive?"
A flicker of surprise crossed Sapphire's eyes. "Can people even live in a place like the underhive?"
Caelan smiled. "True."
Unlike hives like Nostramo, crammed with tens of billions, Inwit's ice-hives had a relatively sparse population, far below their carrying capacity. This allowed Inwitans to maintain a very high standard of living.
Beneath the surface of an ice world lay a highly advanced technological civilization. Clan conflicts couldn't hide the fact that Inwit was a star-spanning empire.
Even without the Phalanx, Inwit's fleet strength was still considerable.
If the Imperium tried to take the Inwit Empire by force, it would likely come at a significant cost.
But what if someone other than the Imperium found Inwit first?
Caelan murmured, "Hopefully no surprises."
Vulkan had a dragon mother. Fortunately, Caelan had saved the dragon mother, averting a potential tragedy.
But Inwit might be invaded by Orks. If the Phalanx was lost, the consequences would be dire.
Caelan suddenly felt a warm, sticky wetness on his chest. Looking down, he saw that Rogal Dorn had fallen asleep again, a trickle of drool sliding from the corner of his mouth, soaking Caelan's shirt.
Caelan sighed, gently wiping the drool from the infant's lips with his sleeve. "You're not reassuring at all. Can't you be more like Perturabo? Look how sensible he is!"
The infant in his arms seemed to understand the reproach, wrinkling his little nose in his sleep as if in protest.
Then, he shifted to a more comfortable position and continued his slumber.
....
"A-Bo, Mentor is gone!"
Calliphone, her skirts hiked up, rushed into the study. Her eyes, usually bright with laughter, were now filled with panic. "I've searched the entire West Tower and asked all the servants. No one has seen him."
Perturabo put down his pen, rubbed his face, and straightened up from his desk, which was covered in design drawings. "Calm down, sister. He hasn't disappeared. He's just gone to find my lost brother."
"How do you know?"
"I just know. Just like when he found me. When we need him, he appears by our side."
Calliphone worried, "But... what if he doesn't come back?"
Perturabo reassured her, "Since he left me, it proves my brother needs him more than I do. Maybe he'll be back tomorrow. There's nothing to worry about."
Perturabo's voice was steady and reassuring, instinctively making one believe him. Calliphone's rapid breathing gradually calmed.
The young girl's eyes were drawn to the astonishingly complex models on the desk, with their exquisite design drawings underneath.
She picked up a model of a magnificent theater, a flicker of surprise in her eyes. "Did you design all these?"
"Not all. I haven't finished them yet." Perturabo said. "I plan to rebuild this city, or build a new one on the northern slopes."
"Will Father agree?"
"I'll convince him. With a magnificent theater."
Calliphone covered her mouth, giggling. "Father is indeed a vain man."
"But it's still very surprising. Father wanted you to compete with Andos. I was afraid Andos would lose confidence."
She walked behind Perturabo, gently straightening his clothes, her voice holding a hint of reproach. "Did you stay up all night again?"
Perturabo's face flushed slightly. He pulled away from her hands. "Sister, I'm not a child. And you're not my mother."
Calliphone huffed. "I'm your sister. An elder sister, you have to listen to me!"
"Brother Caelan said so!"
Calliphone added quickly, giving Perturabo no chance to argue.
Perturabo, as expected, didn't press the issue, but still protested, "I'm a Primarch. Occasional late nights mean nothing. There will be many more late nights to come."
Calliphone lowered her head dejectedly. "Father often stays up late, too."
The Tyrant, ruling only a single city-state, often worked late. What about Perturabo, destined to conquer the galaxy?
He was born with a heavy burden. Some things were unavoidable.
"No!" Calliphone's eyes suddenly widened. "You discovered Mentor was gone last night, didn't you? That's why you stayed up!"
A hint of helplessness crept into Perturabo's voice. "Sister, being too clever can make you disliked."
Calliphone's eyes were full of concern. "You obviously care so much, yet you insist on pretending to be mature and steady. Right now, you are being very twisted!"
"But I have to grow up eventually. Growing up is about learning to walk alone. He won't be by my side forever. I have to get used to it."
"Your way of getting used to it is to numb yourself with work?" Calliphone looked directly into her brother's evasive eyes. "Listen, stinky brother, this isn't growing up. This is escape!"
Perturabo's eyes lowered. "But I'm also afraid. What if he really leaves for good?"
Calliphone opened her mouth, but didn't know how to comfort him.
A light, teasing voice suddenly came from outside the door. "What? Thinking about me?"
Perturabo's head snapped up. Caelan stood in the doorway, a strange infant in his arms.
The little one was sucking his thumb, curiously observing the two people in the room.
Perturabo's brow furrowed, "Who is he?"
Caelan's expression went blank. "Your brother. Just a little unexpected."
....
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