“My ideal is very simple…
People are no longer slaves, but the masters of their own will.
My Legion is no longer the War Hounds, but the doctors who heal the world.” “Therefore, I swear upon all that I am.” “I, Angron,” “Lord of Nuceria, Father of the Twelfth Legion, Lord of the Crimson Angels, and one of the loyal sons of the Emperor, will certainly apprehend the traitor Lion with my own hands, bring him to this place, kill him openly and honorably in a duel, and use his blood to honor all the people who sacrificed their lives on Nuceria.” (t/n: fun fact..
in the original fic angron was a women named Anglona.) …
It was very difficult to describe Lancelot’s expression after reading the contents of the stone stele.
If one had to say, it was as twisted as the ancient Terran painting The Scream.
Angron.
Lord of Nuceria…
Father of the Twelfth Legion?
Crimson Doctors Legion?
One of the loyal sons of the Emperor, who would also certainly apprehend the traitor Lion with his own hands?!
This was actually a fucking Angron holding the loyalist script!
And a completely altered version at that!
Lancelot tragically realized at that moment that he had transmigrated into the Warhammer universe again!
It was just that compared to the main world, this was a reversed world.
In this world, the identities of the loyalist and Chaos Primarchs had been swapped.
The traitor Angron, who was supposed to fall to Khorne, had become the loyal Lord of Nuceria.
Meanwhile, the Lord of the First Legion, Lion El’Jonson, who was supposed to be the loyalist, had already become a member of the Chaos faction.
No wonder there was no activity here…
because this was a fucking Primarch’s homeworld!
It might even be the very gladiatorial arena where the Primarch of the Twelfth Legion, Angron, had fought during his youth.
The inscriptions on this stele might even have been carved by the Primarch himself!
As his mind raced through these realizations, Lancelot almost immediately turned his head and prepared to run away!
One of the iron laws in the Warhammer world was this: anything involving a Primarch was no small matter!
Especially since this was the homeworld of a Primarch.
Such a planet would generally become the homeworld of their Legion—a holy land in the hearts of the entire Legion!
And what was the situation now?
This place might be a private space specially cleared out by the Primarch.
In the hearts of this Twelfth Legion, now apparently called the Crimson Angels, this place was probably the holiest of holy lands.
The only thing that could possibly compare to it was perhaps the Imperial Palace on Terra!
As a Dark Angel who had blundered onto someone else’s holy land, if he didn’t run, was he just waiting to eat the Twelfth Legion’s bolter rounds?
Besides, hadn’t he just read that the conflict between this world’s Twelfth Legion and First Legion was massive?!
It was just that, where should he run to?
As the Legion’s homeworld, this planet had probably long been transformed to be as watertight as Ultramar.
The reason he hadn’t been discovered immediately, and why he hadn’t seen any mechanical modifications in the vicinity, was probably because the people of the Twelfth Legion never imagined that anyone in the galaxy would dare trespass here!
Leaving this prairie would probably result in immediate arrest, but staying in it was like dancing in a minefield!
He didn’t know when he would step on a bomb!
“Damn!
This luck is just unbelievable!” Lancelot turned his head to look at the gladiatorial arena.
Going out was definitely impossible.
He would stay in this arena first to observe the situation.
If things really didn’t work out, he could always humiliatingly log off and run back to the main world.
It was just that it would be a pity to waste a precious exploration opportunity…
The tactical literacy of a Ten-Thousand-Battle Veteran allowed Lancelot to quickly calm down.
After analyzing the current situation, he felt that for now, his best choice was to explore this gladiatorial arena a bit.
Whether it was a bear’s den or a wolf’s lair, he had to try.
Lancelot grabbed his power sword and bolter, cautiously entering the gladiatorial arena’s main building.
Most of the place was completely empty.
He cautiously deployed the Inviolable Domain and slowly advanced inside.
Whenever he encountered even the slightest trace of technology, he would choose to detour.
But there wasn’t a single trace of technology within the entire gladiatorial arena.
Lancelot explored all the way through…
and deep within the arena, he found an unusually spacious room.
The door was wide open.
Inside was a room full of artistic ambiance, filled with the scent of archaic incense and hung with many items.
Among them were breathtaking city design blueprints, scrolls flashing with golden light, and an unusually large red formal robe placed on a rack, embedded perfectly with jewels—breathtakingly beautiful.
Obviously…
this was an extremely private room, and as for its owner, there was only one possible answer.
A Primarch’s private room!
Although in this parallel world, the Primarch of the Twelfth Legion might no longer be that daemon Primarch whose brain was filled with the Butcher’s Nails, consumed by rage, and enslaved his entire life—even if you equated this to Roboute Guilliman’s room, it wasn’t a place one could just casually enter!
Lancelot immediately wanted to run away, but as luck would have it, from the doorway he could see some research materials and scrolls resting on the office desk inside…
Moreover, even from a distance, he could see the word “Lion” within the text.
“…” This place practically had the word “Trap” written on the door!
What kind of Primarch’s room had the door wide open, and specifically left the corner of a document exposed on the desk, showing the name of the First Legion’s Primarch, “Lion”?
This kind of trap was like a little kid taking a bucket on flat ground, propping it up with a stick, and tossing a handful of rice inside to catch a dumb bird!
But…
Hiss…
Lancelot paused his footsteps.
The panic on his face gradually dissipated, revealing a thoughtful expression.
Inside a Primarch’s private room, the name of another Primarch appeared on a document on the desk.
Theoretically speaking, it must inevitably involve major military intelligence and secrets.
In other words…
it was highly likely it could be recorded by his Secret Keeper system, thus activating a reward!
If that were the case, the rewards and risks would be proportional.
If he could dig up some secrets from within, his trip to this reversed world would be worthwhile.
Besides, perhaps he was truly overthinking things.
Being this clumsy…
was it really a trap?
Given a Primarch’s abilities, how could they possibly set such a stupid trap?
Thinking about it carefully, he had transmigrated from another world.
To the people of this world, he was a completely new variable appearing out of thin air.
Coupled with the effect of the Inviolable Domain, even the four Chaos Gods and the Emperor couldn’t locate him.
Things like prophecies or psychic signal probes were completely ineffective against him!
For a Primarch, this place was definitely under heavy surveillance.
Even the Librarians of the Chapter stationed here would have their psychic powers monitoring this area at all times.
But those things were ineffective against him.
To a certain extent, his arrival at this place could be considered a perfect infiltration!
Right!
That was exactly it!
Thaniel_a_goodchild.