Tieron walked up the steps of Lion's Gate, looking at the battlefield before him with a hint of weariness.
Almost the entire outer palace had been razed. War, blood, bombardment, and the ravages of the daemon army.
Now, the tide of war had subsided. All the Greater daemons had been annihilated, and the remaining lesser daemons were being swept away by the Custodians and Grey Knights. Those who might have been corrupted were being taken away in batches by the Inquisition.
For this, Tieron could only be grateful for the mercy of Sanguinius and Saint Doraemon. Due to his duties, Tieron had witnessed almost the entire war, and he felt his will had been shattered by those chaotic, terrifying scenes.
Eight Bloodthirsters slaughtered lives, countless human skulls floated in a sea of blood.
Those monsters opened their bloody maws, letting out terrifying war cries. Flame whips shattered fighter jets, chain-axes crushed tanks. The ancient defenses of the palace were like the lowest quality parchment before them.
The living saint with a halo, accompanied by Great Canoness Morven Vahl, slew one. The collaborating Grey Knights also dispatched one.
Lord Mephiston of the Blood Angels displayed his terrifying Psyker power, crushing two Greater daemons. Chapter Master Reyna and Captain Valerian worked together to kill one, and Custodian Marshal Trajan Valoris personally cut off the head of another.
But it wasn't they who truly ended the battle.
When that beast, thousands of times more terrifying than the other eight Greater daemons—Skarbrand—entered the battlefield, Tieron was able to hear that name from Saint Doraemon.
The daemon named Skarbrand effortlessly broke through the Custodian's defense. Neither the Grey Knights, the Custodians, nor powerful psyker like Chapter Master Reyna could stop that blood-burning daemon.
They charged without hesitation, but still could not stop the tide of blood.
The monster seemed to be the embodiment of wrath, savagery, slaughter, and betrayal. Nothing in the mortal world could stop him.
Until the figure in a cowboy hat, holding a revolver, appeared.
Tieron considered himself dull, but he still felt the aura of Saint Doraemon and the Emperor on that young man.
Then came the sound of gunfire and wailing.
Skarbrand was instantly killed by that bullet, but it wasn't over yet.
Tieron clearly saw that bullet tear through the veil of reality and pierce into the Warp.
Then Tieron—no, it should be said that all of Terra, and perhaps even the entire galaxy, heard it.
They heard the sound of the bullet tearing through a leg bone, heard that crimson face looking down on Terra let out a sharp, angry, yet joyful howl.
Immediately after, all Khorne daemons within Tieron's sight limped on one leg, and the eyes that originally held only fury revealed an almost imperceptible cowardice.
Then, the Eternal Gate opened, and the Primarch and Saint Doraemon joined the battle.
Tieron's memory of the subsequent events became fragmented.
He only vaguely remembered some scenes.
Roboute Guilliman stood in the bloody storm, a posture completely unlike his legendary rational image, holding the brightly burning Emperor's Sword before daemons far larger than him.
Sanguinius, like a bright sun, cut through the dark clouds. The Spear of Accomplishment fell like the Emperor's tear, severing the surging sea of blood.
Saint Doraemon smiled as he strolled over the blood and battlefield, grabbing a daemon and stuffing it into the pocket on his belly. Even Khorne daemons, whose minds held only anger and a desire for slaughter, showed fear at the sight of Him and fled in disarray.
Every time Tieron recalled those scenes, his heart pounded, as if he had returned to his childhood, listening to the mythical stories of the Adeptus Ministorum.
But what was before him was not a story, not a myth, nor a legend.
People often say that facts become stories, stories become legends, and legends eventually become myths.
But Tieron saw it that day; he saw myths, legends, and stories become reality.
However, having witnessed this scene,
By common sense, even Tieron, as the Imperial Chancellor, could not escape the brutal scrutiny.
Inquisition gunships flew over Tieron's head like a flock of eagles.
He truly didn't know where they had been hiding; they swarmed out after the battle, arresting those who might have been corrupted or who had seen things they were not authorized to see.
Then came the interrogations, selections, hypnotism, suppression, and memory removal—the usual measures.
Tieron would have been one of them.
But Sanguinius gently healed Tieron's shattered will with his Psyker power, and Saint Doraemon, with a red cross and a blue circle, declared Tieron still pure.
He was allowed to remain in the palace and continue his work.
During this time, Tieron was almost like an automatic robot, moving from one task to the next. He barely spoke except for necessary communications. He lost weight, yet his body became more bloated than before.
His mind was filled only with a series of political affairs: calculating losses, estimating remaining food and fuel, filling vacant official positions, and so on.
Finally, today, he got a little rest. Tieron had just reported the work of the past few days to Primarch Roboute Guilliman.
The biggest problem was still reclaiming the uncontrolled areas of Terra.
But the fundamental reason these areas were uncontrolled was not that people were disloyal, nor that they no longer believed in the Emperor.
It was simply that Terra produced too little and consumed too much.
Food, a large amount of food and water, was needed to revitalize those uncontrolled areas.
But Lord Guilliman merely raised his head wearily from the parchment, indicating to Tieron that Saint Doraemon would solve these problems.
No more needed to be done; they just had to wait for Saint Doraemon to act.
Tieron was astonished by this.
Even Terra, blessed by the Emperor, had never truly solved its food problem.
A somewhat blasphemous thought inexplicably popped into Tieron's mind.
Could it be that Saint Doraemon was more omnipotent than the God-Emperor?
This thought made Tieron feel some shame.
Just then, Tieron saw a familiar yet unconfirmed figure hurry past him.
They were several figures much taller than mortals, even slightly taller than an Astartes, but Tieron dared not confirm.
Because they were not wearing their iconic gleaming golden armor, but only short shirts, as if they were hive city workers going to a factory or agricultural world farmers going to the fields.
"Captain Valerian?" Tieron asked with a hint of hesitation.
Shield-Captain Valerian turned his head, his face ashen, and looked at Tieron.
He nodded in greeting to Tieron, then hurried away.
This left Tieron a bit bewildered.
"Say: I want to farm!"
"Are you going to farm or not?"
"Aren't you the Emperor's good Custodian?"
"Plant rice along the edge! And still say farming is lowly?"
"Is the land easy to farm?"
"Smack!"
Palace, deep beneath the Sanctum Sanctorum, in a tunnel that no detector could find,
Alexander, holding a whip he'd gotten from who-knows-where, tapped his palm and spoke.
A group of Custodians, not wearing their gleaming golden Power Armor, were kneeling in fertile paddy fields on carpets, planting rice seedlings one by one.
Above their heads floated a miniature sun, and beside the sun, tiny clouds were raining.
The Custodians listened to Alexander's scolding, their faces, already somewhat dark from the sunlight, immediately became even darker than a Black person's.
[Item Name: Holiday Agricultural Set]
[Origin: 22nd Century Earth — Future Department Store]
[Production Time: 261.M3]
[Function: A complete set of tools including rice seedlings, a miniature sun, instant cloud-rain, a paddy field carpet, and a scarecrow. Typically used for children to experience agricultural life.
Plant the rice seedlings on the paddy field carpet; the miniature sun will provide sunlight, the instant cloud-rain will provide water, and the scarecrow will ward off pests. Then the rice seedlings will begin to grow and mature rapidly, producing sweet and delicious rice.]
And at Alexander's waist, the Mad Clock, which could adjust the flow of time within a certain range, gently swayed.
Terra was currently in extreme need of food,
So Alexander exchanged for this Holiday Agricultural Set.
This set could make the rice planted on it mature and be harvested quickly. The only drawback was that this tool was originally designed for 22nd century children to experience agricultural life, so it required people to plant.
And to increase yield, Alexander also used the Mad Clock, adjusting the time flow near the farmland.
Now, about two years would pass in this tunnel for every day that passed outside. A month would be almost sixty years.
The problem was that the physical quality and lifespan of mortals simply couldn't withstand such labor, and many mortals inside and outside the palace had been corrupted, their loyalty also somewhat questionable.
Furthermore, many mortal bureaucrats died in the Battle of Lion's Gate, and the Imperial administrative system itself was severely understaffed. All trustworthy and reliable mortals were already undertaking workloads far beyond their capacity.
Then there was the fact that most people on Terra had no experience whatsoever in planting crops. Most of the food they ate consisted of protein paste, gruel, or corpse starch produced in factories and transported by cargo ships.
They needed to find a group of people who were strong, long-lived, loyal, reliable, whose work was not important, and who were knowledgeable to farm.
Then Alexander set his sights on the Custodians.
The Astartes were still busy reclaiming lost territories, expelling remaining daemons and cultists, and most of them only understood war. Their farming skills... one only needed to think about how unpalatable the grapes of Baal were to understand.
But the Custodians, the Custodians were practically born for farming! Their biotechnologically crafted bodies were perfect, their lifespans long, and they wouldn't be corrupted, being loyal and reliable.
When they were forged, they weren't just warriors like the Astartes; they had mastered many fields of knowledge, including agricultural knowledge.
Most importantly, their job was to protect the Emperor.
The most dangerous being in the entire galaxy was the Emperor; did he still need protection?
Their profession, in Alexander's view, was similar to missile maintenance.
Do missiles still need maintenance? Does the Emperor still need protection?
Missiles might need maintenance, but the Emperor absolutely did not need protection.
It would be better to use this free time to grow some food for the people of Terra!
Wasn't farming more useful than strolling around, playing blood games, or protecting the Emperor?
So Alexander borrowed a group of Custodians from Marshal Trajan Valoris and dragged them into this tunnel to farm.
It was just that this group of Custodians were arrogant, inherently looked down on farming, felt that making them farm was humiliating them, and often caused trouble for Alexander.
"I am the Emperor's guardian! My duty is to protect the Emperor!"
"How dare you make me farm! How dare you!"
"Smack!!"