The Macragge's Honor was shrouded in sorrow. This great vessel was currently under full lockdown. The news of Calgar's injury was only circulating among the ship's crew and a select few high-ranking expeditionary force officers.
His injuries were too severe. That rusty sword was too malicious, targeting not only the body but also the soul.
If he truly died, he might not even be able to preserve his soul.
No one dared to release such news.
Calgar had led the expeditionary fleet for so long, coupled with his extraordinary leadership abilities, which made him deeply beloved by the Imperial soldiers.
If the news of his severe, near-fatal injuries were to spread, the consequences would be unimaginable.
After deliberation, the high-ranking officers could only seal off the information to avoid inciting the wrath of the Imperial army. The Imperium had currently captured a group of prisoners from Universe 04.
If they learned of Calgar's injury, there might be a large number of prisoner executions. The Gene-Priests and Apothecaries desperately and frantically tried every method to save Calgar.
Ultimately, they could only place him in a sarcophagus that completely isolated him from the Warp, time, space, destiny, and all concepts of truth. This was a cutting-edge technological creation that had not yet been widely adopted. This device was equivalent to extracting a spatial rift from the current river of time and then fashioning it into a time capsule independent of the background time.
It could completely stop Calgar's time. The property of isolating the Warp could also effectively protect Calgar from harm by those mysterious forces.
Allowing him to maintain his current state and return to Terra. This was the best method the wise men treating him could conceive of.
As the expeditionary force cheered, the Macragge's Honor silently departed the battlefield through the opened Warp portal, setting course back to its home universe, back to Terra, to seek the Emperor's healing.
Urgent orders were quickly relayed to various inter-universal stations, requiring them to fully cooperate with the passage of the Macragge's Honor, postponing all other matters. The command document was marked with the highest-grade Aquila seal.
Should anyone dare to disobey, the Inquisition would directly pay them a visit for reckoning.
As soon as this document was issued, it caused all the administrators of the stations along the route to show expressions of shock.
Inter-universal channels were vital pathways connecting the home universe with other universes. The number of ships passing through daily was incalculable. The amount of materials needing transportation was even more immense.
Now, everything was being ceded to the Macragge's Honor; how could these individuals not be astonished?
At the diversion station leading to Universe 03. This was a colossal fortress, with astounding dimensions in length, width, and height.
An old-model battleship, five kilometers high and twenty kilometers long, appeared minuscule in front of the fortress.
Vast transport fleets resembled scattered ant colonies, tiny in stature, numerous, and inconspicuous.
Humans from other universes, upon seeing this magnificent structure, first uttered exclamations of awe.
Even Asagami Shion, who had become a Legion Commander, was shocked by the Imperium's might and by the god she believed in when she saw the fortress.
Asagami Shion's physique had become even more perfect through the optimization program of the Heart of the Imperium and the immersion in divine power.
Her delicate face, like a meticulously carved work of art, could captivate countless men just by looking at it.
Her flawless, fair skin seemed to be condensed from high-purity milk, silky smooth, and naturally exuding a faint body fragrance.
She wore a black gothic long dress, as always. The only difference was that she was no longer barefoot, but wore knee-high white socks and a pair of cute, elegant flat shoes.
In her normal state, the iconic halo of a Living Saint would not appear behind her head. The halo would only manifest during combat. The presence of the halo was a greatly inspiring sight for the Imperial forces on the battlefield.
After becoming a Living Saint, Asagami Shion's victories and achievements were enough to make her an Imperial hero worthy of being recorded by historians.
For this, she earned the opportunity to visit the Imperium, study, and meet with the Emperor.
For Asagami Shion, this was undoubtedly an event that could make her faint with happiness.
She had finally gained the chance to directly face the Emperor, to whom she could dedicate her entire being.
For this opportunity, she had toiled for countless days and nights.
Now, her wish had finally been granted. The only regret was that this honor did not belong to her alone.
She was going as part of a study and observation group.
It wasn't just Asagami Shion; she was accompanied by several players from other factions, as well as politicians, merchants, and others who had established the provisional government of Universe 03. The group numbered approximately a thousand people.
Each one held absolute loyalty to the Imperium and to the Emperor.
Although it was called a study tour, in their eyes, it was undoubtedly a pilgrimage. The inter-universal train they were on stopped at the diversion station. This was a very rare occurrence; generally, inter-universal trains do not stop mid-journey.
Now, to coordinate an unobstructed path, the control hub had to make some trains and fleets stop and divert to other routes. The train was absolutely safe at the diversion station.
Passengers were even allowed to briefly disembark for rest and observation.
When they stepped out of the massive inter-universal train, the sight that greeted them made them disbelieve they were standing inside a structure built by humans.
In Universe 03, the Imperium and the Reincarnation Game had also constructed many tall and magnificent buildings.
But such a vast and magnificent fortress was truly unimaginable. The sculpture of the Emperor soared into the clouds, its head out of sight.
From their angle, they could only see the legs, sculpted with combat boots.
If not for the servo-skulls providing introductions nearby, no one would have guessed this was a sculpture of the Emperor.
"This is taller than a planet!! Is this truly a structure that humans can build?" asked Gedworth, the deputy commander of the Purifier Legion, looking up with an amazed tone.
Giant battleships flew around the statue.
In comparison, even those magnificent warships seemed incredibly small. The politicians who had established the provisional government of Universe 03 also struggled to hide their shock.
These politicians were very famous and talented in the Imperial territories of Universe 03, ruling their worlds well and continuously supplying the Imperium with vast amounts of soldiers and resources. They had long witnessed the Imperium's power.
warriors in power armor could slaughter the once-lofty Reincarnation players as if mowing grass. The Imperium had also established its own player system, no less impressive than the Reincarnation Game.
Many local scholars in Universe 03 believed that the Imperium's strength was comparable to the Reincarnation Game.
Now, it seemed the Imperium and the Reincarnation Game were not merely comparable.
It was more likely that the Imperium surpassed it.
In areas like high-end technology and high-end combat power, both sides might be on par, or evenly matched.
But in industrial productivity, the Imperium had left the Reincarnation Game so far behind that its taillights couldn't even be seen.
In the past, people might have had a mistaken notion. They might have thought that great power belonged to the individual, and no matter how strong hot weapons were, they could be shattered with a single punch.
No matter how strong industrial productivity was, it couldn't compare to the usefulness of extraordinary power.
But the emergence of the Imperium turned this idea into a joke.
Shattered with a single punch??
They would be shattered before they even saw an Imperial warship.
Mass-produced Primaris Marines, fully armed Astra Militarum, Titans equipped with cannons capable of destroying a continent with a single shot.
Furthermore, they could directly create black holes and annihilation waves from hundreds or thousands of light-years away, obliterating entire worlds.
With such technology, most extraordinary beings couldn't even react before they were annihilated. They wouldn't even know who struck them. They could only roar and wail at the air like wild wolves under a farmer's gun.
Once high-tech industrial productivity takes shape, for extraordinary civilizations, it is truly an overwhelming despair, making even a decent resistance impossible. The fortress' architecture was enclosed in all dimensions.
Whether it was three-dimensional, four-dimensional, or even higher dimensions.
It was completely enclosed, capable of preventing Warp entities from prying into it.
All the towers and ports extended into unknown dimensions, seemingly without end.
Patrolling Imperial ships cruised between the towering structures. The inter-universal channel was like a giant, flourishing tree, with paths leading to different universes as its branches. Through the diversion stations, Imperial ships entering and exiting the universes were controlled.
Diversion stations were also typically garrisoned by Imperial forces. They were generally responsible for ensuring the safety of the routes.
Asagami Shion felt an urge to kneel and pray to the Emperor.
She was standing in a city of miracles created by human might.
"Praise Him, He will ultimately guide us onto the path of light," Asagami Shion chanted a phrase often on the lips of Ecclesiarchy priests, her perfect face filled with piety and fervor.
She was impatient to meet the supreme, sacred, and luminous Emperor of Mankind.
She wanted to loudly declare her oath of eternal loyalty in His presence.
She would firmly tell the Emperor:
Even if death would decay in the long eons, even if everything in the world would vanish under the ravages of time, her oath would not fade in the slightest.
She would be loyal, she would dedicate herself, until eternity of eternities.
At the transfer station, several merchants in luxurious robes were shouting at the person in charge of the station.
"This batch of goods is extremely important; it's research material supplied directly to the Mechanicum," the merchant yelled. "I have the joint signatures of several sages, which attest to its value and importance. I demand immediate clearance!"
"Clear it immediately! This abrupt suspension of passage without prior notification is illegal. I will sue you!"
"Damn it, do you know how much money this delay will cost us?"
"We apologize for the inconvenience you're experiencing, but this is a top-level Aquila writ. There's an emergency that requires a clear, direct path across the cosmos. Please be patient; passage will resume soon," an official explained to the merchants, protected by guards.
"If necessary, you can apply for a delay writ. According to Imperial law, delays caused by unforeseen circumstances can receive subsidies from the Imperial Treasury and legal support, exempting you from huge compensation payments."
"Damn it, I told you to let us through!" the merchant screamed, enraged. "Are you deaf? This is live cargo; it must be delivered within the specified time."
"This is a writ from the Imperial Shipping Association. The agreement inside promises our ships unhindered passage through trans-cosmic channels. You cannot stop us!"
"You can't do this, I'm telling you. If you delay this shipment, you'll be in deep trouble."
The noisy merchants gathered, demanding immediate clearance.
"All of you, get out! Anyone still here in one minute will be handed over to the Inquisition for investigation."
A powerful voice rang out.
It cut through steel like acid, reaching deep into everyone's hearts. The noisy hall instantly fell silent.
Except for the self-muttering of the Cogitator and the humming of machinery, everyone was quiet.
A giant clad in white armor walked in through the doorway.
He stood before everyone.
No one knew how the fully armored Khan had arrived so silently.
His physique was so massive.
Yet no one noticed him. The Khan stood towering before everyone, his eyes as sharp and aggressive as a hawk's, like two knives ready to dissect the souls of all present.
"Are you here to challenge the authority and laws of the Imperium? Do you dare to disregard the Imperium's highest-level Aquila writ? Do you dare to disrespect the authority of my brother, the current Emperor?"
Jaghatai stared at everyone, his hand resting on the scimitar at his waist. The murderous intent in his gaze was unmistakable.
If these fools continued to cause trouble, trying to prioritize their own interests over those of the Imperium, he would show them what regret truly meant.
"We were wrong, my lord," the leading merchant knelt down. "The Holy Imperium is supreme, the Holy Emperor is supreme."
The other merchants all knelt as well. Their faces were ashen, and their bodies trembled.
If taken seriously, Jaghatai's words alone were enough to condemn them to death. The Holy Emperor is supreme, not to be offended, and transcends all laws and rules. This was the consensus of all Imperial citizens. The mere crime of offending the Holy Emperor was enough to damn them forever.
"Get out! If there's a next time, the Inquisition will come directly to your door," Jaghatai's voice was icy cold. The merchants all stood up fearfully and trembling, then left the hall.
Jaghatai withdrew his gaze, paying no attention to the departing mortals.
Instead, he turned his attention to the official.
"You have been dismissed. Your weakness has cost you your current position."
"My lord!" the official stammered, "I--!"
"Weakness is a fault. The iron laws of the Imperium tolerate no transgression in any form. They are humanity's bulwark, the source of fairness that protects every citizen of the Imperium. Your weakness is disappointing; you lack the resolve to dedicate everything to the Imperium. Leave this place."
After saying this, Jaghatai ignored the official, who had turned pale and started crying.
As the Hawk of Chogoris, his heart would not waver in the slightest for such weak individuals.
He glanced at the guards accompanying the official.
"Tell the deputy supervisor here that he's been promoted. Have him come see me immediately."
A guard ran out.
Soon, a somewhat portly man scurried in.
"My lord."
Jaghatai nodded.
"Maintain the operation of this station until the 'Light of Macragge' passes. Until then, do not allow any ship or train to pass. If anyone dares to smuggle themselves through, destroy it."
The man paused for a moment.
But then quickly nodded.
"I understand."
"There must be no mistakes in this matter, or you will be stripped of the right to receive the Holy Emperor's protection after death."
Jaghatai turned and walked out.
"My lord, may I ask why the 'Light of Macragge' is being given such an honor?" the man humbly asked. "According to the intelligence I've received, since the trans-cosmic channels were built, this has never happened. Even in the most urgent war situations, nothing like this has ever occurred."
Jaghatai paused.
"For the benefit of the Imperium, we cannot lose a legendary hero."
A storm swept across the desolate plateau. The summer heat and dry gales blew dust into the air.
On the distant horizon, a layer of brown-black clouds lurked, with lightning flashing within.
A man walked across the plateau, occasionally finding seashells in the sand. Time had changed the landscape; it seemed this plateau was once an ocean.
His cheeks were wind-chapped, showing tiny cracks. The scorching sun baked him, and rolling heat waves rose, distorting even the air. The distant storm was approaching, bringing thunder and heavy rain.
Yet here, it remained hot. The man looked around in confusion, wearing a set of black armor and carrying a massive greatsword chained to his hand.
"Where am I?" the man's cracked lips moved, his voice hoarse.
His saliva had dried up.
Even licking his lips was useless.
It couldn't alleviate the cracked lips. The man had forgotten how long he had been walking.
His memory was blurry; he just kept walking forward.
Physical fatigue was accumulating little by little, like the water level in a reservoir, rising bit by bit, trying to reach a peak, and then completely overwhelm him. The man lowered his head, every cell screaming, wishing he would just lie down.
Compared to endless pain, death felt like a release.
Yet, the man, with sheer willpower, dragged his weary steps forward.
Only the weak would surrender to death.
Step by step, the man squeezed every last ounce of energy from his cells.
Even facing death, he pushed forward with all his might.
Stumbling through this desolate plateau.
He didn't know where he was going, but moving forward was always the right choice.
No matter what, there would be an outcome.
After an unknown amount of time. The sound of the storm grew closer, at the boundary between the scorching hot plateau and the storm.
An old man stood there, wearing a tattered, hole-ridden robe, with bare feet.
In his hand, he held a stick, not even worthy of being called a staff.
It was just a branch taken from a thorn bush, stripped of its thorns and bark.
Its surface was smoothed by his hand.
His face was ancient, full of the marks of wind and wrinkles, his eyes cloudy.
"Greetings of peace to you, traveler," the old man said to the man. The man nodded.
He was very tall, and protected by armor. The frail old man posed no threat to him.
"You've been walking, never stopping," the old man said. "Are you going somewhere?"
The man paused, his confused eyes studying the old man. The other's face was very familiar.
As if he had seen that face countless times before.
Yet he couldn't recall any memory.
"I don't know where I'm going? I just know I have to keep walking," the man said in a low voice, and as he spoke, fragments of memory flashed through his mind.
Images of roars, battles, and desperate screams appeared in his mind.
A man holding a chainaxe, clad in red armor, lay on the ground.
His throat was slit.
As he spoke, foamy blood sprayed with his words.
"My chain-brother, Sigismund."
"Eat dirt, traitor."
The man suddenly saw another warrior in yellow armor. The other's face was so familiar, as if it were his own.