“My ideal is simple…
People will no longer be slaves, but masters of their own wills.
My Legion will no longer be War Hounds, but physicians who heal worlds.”
“And so, I swear this upon all that I am.”
“I, Angrona.”
“Lady of Nuceria, Mother of the XII Legion, Mistress of the Crimson Angels Legion, and one of the Emperor’s loyal children, shall personally seize the traitor Lion and bring him to this place.
In an honorable duel, I will kill him openly and fairly, so that his death may serve as an offering to all who sacrificed themselves on Nuceria.”
…
It was difficult to describe Lancelot’s expression after reading the contents of the stele in full.
If one had to compare it to something, it looked as twisted as the ancient Terran masterpiece The Scream.
Angrona.
Lady of Nuceria…
Mother of the XII Legion?
Crimson Angels Legion?
One of the Emperor’s loyal children, and she would personally seize the traitor Lion?
This was actually Angron holding the loyalist script!
And a gender-swapped version at that!
At that moment, Lancelot came to the miserable realization that he had crossed into the Warhammer universe again.
It was just that compared to the main world, this was an inverted world, one where the loyalist and Chaos Primarchs had swapped roles.
The traitor Angron, who should have fallen to Khorne, had become the loyal Lady of Nuceria, Angrona.
Meanwhile, Lion El’Jonson, who should have been the loyal lord of the First Legion, had already become a member of Chaos.
No wonder there was no movement here at all.
This place was the homeworld of a Primarch.
It might even be the very arena where the XII Legion’s Primarch, Angrona, had fought in her youth, and the words on the stele might have been carved by the Primarch herself.
After his mind flashed through all of this, Lancelot almost turned around and ran on the spot.
One of the iron laws of the Warhammer universe: anything connected to a Primarch was never a small matter.
That was especially true of a Primarch’s homeworld.
Usually, such a place would directly become the homeworld of an entire Legion, a sacred site in the hearts of that Legion.
And what was the current situation?
This place might very well be a private space specially cleared out by the Primarch.
In the hearts of the XII Legion, now called the Crimson Angels, this place was probably the holiest of holy grounds.
The only place that might possibly stand on equal footing with it was the Emperor’s Imperial Palace on Terra.
And as a Dark Angel, he had somehow wandered onto someone else’s holy ground.
And had he not seen that, in this world, the conflict between the XII Legion and the First Legion was enormous?
But where was he supposed to run?
As the homeworld of a Legion, this planet had probably already been rebuilt into an airtight fortress, just like Ultramar.
The only reason he had not been discovered immediately was probably because there were no mechanical devices here.
More importantly, the XII Legion had likely never imagined that anyone in this world would dare come to this place.
If he left this grassland, he would probably be arrested immediately.
But if he stayed on this grassland, he was basically dancing in the middle of a minefield.
Who knew when he would step on a bomb?
“Hiss…
My luck really has gone straight to hell.”
Lancelot turned back to look at the arena.
He definitely could not leave.
For now, he would stay in the colosseum and observe the situation.
If things truly became impossible, he could only shamefully end the broadcast and run back to the main world.
It would just be a shame to waste one precious chance to explore.
Still, the tactical discipline of a veteran of countless wars quickly calmed Lancelot down.
After analyzing the current situation, he felt that, for the moment, his best option was to explore the colosseum.
Whether it was a bear’s den or a wolf’s lair, he had to take a look.
Lancelot drew his power sword and boltgun, then cautiously entered the colosseum’s structure.
Most of the place was empty.
Lancelot carefully unfolded his Untouchable Domain and slowly advanced inward.
Whenever he encountered even the slightest trace of technology, Lancelot chose to detour around it.
Yet throughout the entire colosseum, there was no trace of technology at all.
Lancelot searched all the way through until, in the depths of the arena, he found an extraordinarily spacious room.
The door was open.
Inside was an artistic chamber filled with the scent of ancient incense.
Many things were hung throughout the room: breathtaking city design plans, scrolls shimmering with golden light, and an exceptionally broad red women’s gown placed upon a clothes rack.
Its jewels were set with perfect restraint, making it almost painfully beautiful.
Obviously…
this was an extremely private room.
And as for its owner, there was clearly only one answer.
A Primarch’s private room. This chapter is updated first at g.com.
Although in this parallel world, the Primarch of the XII Legion was perhaps no longer the Daemon Primarch with the Butcher’s Nails in his brain, devoured by rage and enslaved for life, even if this were Roboute Guilliman’s room instead, it still would not be somewhere a person could just casually enter.
Lancelot immediately wanted to run.
But from the doorway, he could see research materials and scrolls sitting on the desk inside the room…
and even from a distance, he could see the word “Lion” appearing in the text.
“…”
This place might as well have had the word “trap” written on the door.
What kind of Primarch’s room would just happen to have its door wide open, with a corner of the documents on the desk conveniently exposing information about the First Legion’s Primarch, “the Lion”?
This trap was so crude it was practically like a child setting a bucket on flat ground, propping it up with a stick, and scattering a handful of rice beneath it in an attempt to catch a stupid bird.
But…
Hiss…
Lancelot came to a slight stop.
The panic on his face gradually faded, and thoughtfulness replaced it.
Inside a Primarch’s private room, a document on the desk contained another Primarch’s name.
In theory, that meant it had to involve major military intelligence or secrets.
In other words…
there was a good chance it could be recorded by the Secret-Keeper System and activate a reward.
If that was the case, the potential gains were now proportional to the risks.
If he could dig up even a little secret from this, then this trip to the inverted world would not have been in vain.
Besides, maybe he really was overthinking things.
Could something this clumsy really be a trap?
Given a Primarch’s capabilities, how could they possibly set up such a stupid trap?
Thinking carefully, he had crossed over from another world.
To the people of this world, he could be considered a variable that had appeared completely out of thin air.
On top of that, thanks to the effect of his Untouchable Domain, even the Four Gods and the Emperor could not locate him.
Prophecies, psychic signal detection, and similar methods were completely useless against him.
For a Primarch, this place was definitely under close watch.
Perhaps even the Librarians of the Chapter stationed here were using their psychic power to monitor this place at every moment.
But all of that was ineffective against him.
In a certain sense, his arrival here could be considered a perfect infiltration.
Yes.
That was it.
A secret connected to a Primarch was right in front of him.
What Dark Angel could possibly resist?