Whether you admit it or not, murder is one of human nature.

Children will be curious about life, they will stare at bugs or frogs for a while, then they will crush the bugs with their feet, they will throw frogs with their hands. They are happy to see something else die.

Curious why this is the case? No one knows. But when they become more mature, this curiosity begins to develop into an impulse.

Some restrained it, others didn't.

Times change, the years go by, and the cloak of morality and civilization turns this impulse into a latent violent craving, which usually does not manifest itself, but when the time comes, it will explode, force the brain with anger, and cause impulsive bloodshed.

But if you go back in time, back to the savage years, back to the time when the flames were not yet ignited, what is killing?

Nothing.

Primitive people have no so-called moral concept, they kill to survive, they kill beasts, and they also kill their own people.

Warriors within a tribe will kill warriors from another tribe with hatred, and chiefs will have bad thoughts of their sons who covet their position in old age, and will actually kill their own bloodline.

Mothers kill sons, fathers kill daughters, families are ruined, barbarism runs rampant - and then, one day, suddenly there is fire, then iron, then houses.

People began to resist the beast, to the darkness, to everything. People can be fed, clothed, and live in a place where they don't have to migrate.

So morality began to be promoted.

People don't kill their loved ones, they don't kill the people they love, they know it's not good, and they know that it will bring disaster. It's like a convention. Nobody brought it up, no one taught it so, but everybody knew it.

Until one day comes.

On that day, next to a village on a river somewhere on the border of Eurasia, a man with a flint spear killed his brother. He was full of hatred, and no one knew why, but he did hate his brother.

He plunged the spear into his brother's body, blood splattering on his face, scaling hot to the point of almost stinging his skin. He watched his brother die, no matter how much the victim struggled and screamed.

Thus, after him, morality began to become a cloak that could be thrown away at any time.

But why is he special? No, why was this first murder special? Is it just because the murderer murdered his own brother?

To answer this question, you need to find a boy who was still young at the time. The boy knew nothing about the future, and he was helping his mother with laundry by the river, unaware that his father was dying.

Years later, he felt a hole in his father's skull, a power was born in his heart, and an answer came from the void and reached his ears. So the boy walked out of his house and found the murderer.

He killed him, not so hateful, not too hostile, but he killed him.

He avenged his father and killed his uncle with his own hands.

This is the enmity of his relatives, and no one can accuse him. The hatred of killing relatives is not shared.

The boy didn't realize what he had done until tens of thousands of years later, but alas, it was too late.

By the time he found out, he had been fighting the monsters in the darkness with torches for countless years, and during this time he had protected them, even if they didn't even know who he was.

He watched them go from wilderness to civilization, from village to city, he had stood up to turn the tide when a country was in danger, he had also ignored the destruction of the world, and he had watched radiation and destruction destroy the earth to a point that even he felt strange

And then it's now.

He is the emperor.

He is the Lord of mankind.

The demons feared him, the gods rejected him, his deeds spread across the galaxy, countless people saw him and heard his name—and something began to take place, all quietly watched by the forces of chaos.

There is no concept of time in subspace, and the echo of the first murder has disappeared for tens of thousands of years on the time scale of the material universe, but it has only just entered in subspace.

The call of the living beings led it to see the man, to see the face of the Emperor.

The child's face was quickly linked to the laurel-crowning giant. It had been the child's uncle, how could he not recognize his nephew's face? How can a victim not recognize the murderer's face?

So everything was right, the reverberations were tempered, and the demon named Dracenion was born.

It was born from the hatred of the Lord of Mankind and stemmed from the extreme sin of murdering blood relatives.

Back in time, back to the old Eurasian border, the young boy let his uncle die of a sudden heart failure, he murdered his uncle with his own power, and everything was complete and became a closed loop.

Hatred, spiral, vengeance – this is where the power of the Dracenion comes from, the four gods power it, vengeance crowns it, and through the emperor's past, it becomes an incarnation.

If one could spread out the subspace and turn it into a giant dictionary, they would be able to find an index underneath the nouns marked with the emperor.

Derackenion – six syllables, very awkward, what is its meaning?

Enemy of the Emperor.

That's all.

It was the emperor's first malice, the first hatred, the first killing. The stronger the Emperor, the greater the threat it poses to the Emperor.

No one can escape the darkness in his heart, even if he is the Lord of Mankind.

Look at the Lord of Humanity at this moment, and look at him lying on the ground. The blood flowed continuously, creating a river beneath him. Legend has it that he doesn't bleed, and legend says he is a god who no one can stop, and now?

He lay quietly, his face pale. There had never been a moment when he was so weak. The pain that had long forgotten forced him to gasp lowly, his black hair scattered, without the majesty of a monarch.

But he was laughing.

Karil Lohals stood in front of him, holding a longsword in his hand, a very ornate, very evil one. The black metal and the white bones intertwined with each other, creating its twisted shape.

Countless screaming faces rolled at the sword, and the blood of the Lord of Humanity remained on it, greedily devouring it.

Even when it was being held in its hands, its struggles were still violent. Hatred spurred it, and demonic nature made it hungry and thirsty for more blood from its only enemy.

But it can't go any further.

Carlil clenched his right hand slowly, firmly, and irreversibly. The crown above it hummed, and the white claws rested on the hilt of the sword, forcing it to be quiet.

He took his sword and walked up to the emperor, and lifted him up from the ground little by little. Such a majestic giant, but at this moment he looks like a completely ordinary person, except for his huge body, even his breathing is extremely weak.

At the same time, a shattering sound came from deeper into the tunnel.

"As I recall, I didn't agree to the plan at the time."

The bones opened their mouths, and the sound was like thunder.

"Do you really understand what you're doing? Terra had already been impregnated by the forces of chaos because of my presence, and now, you took the initiative to call me here. You've made this an altar to a god. ”

"If not, how are you going to get back?"

The Emperor smiled and asked, a smile that was in his hands.

"Tzeentch's plan is chained, and by stealing time to lure you away from Terra, Magnus doesn't matter. What is His purpose? It's to lead you away from Terra. Isn't it for this moment that He is taking you around the universe and deliberately delaying time? ”

He raised his hand and pointed to the sword.

"He wants to kill the Emperor." The weak and tired man said quietly. "And the Emperor can't be an enemy of Dracnien, and in the same way, neither can Machado, nor can the Praetorian Army, nor can anyone on Terra. Only you can, Carlil. ”

The god with the fire of revenge and hatred burning in his eyes kept silent, and the sound of shattering from the depths of the network continued to be heard, spreading unstoppably. Terra has become an altar to the gods and the Net. Unable to continue to exist.

It will shatter.

"It's a failure." The emperor whispered. "After all, I still have to destroy everything myself, but it doesn't matter, if it is not broken, it will not stand."

"If they want a war so much, then we will give them a war. Since they want a god so much, then we will give them a god. ”

He looked up, gazing through the mask of the god of vengeance and hatred at the man beneath him. His gaze was so direct, so sharp, that it went straight to the heart.

Then, slowly, he spoke.

"Deliver a command to them for me, god. Then we can fight side by side. ”

——

Four hours and twenty-two minutes into the war, a hoarse voice finally came from Roger Dorn's communication headset.

He immediately stopped all his movements, as did his brothers Ferus Manus and Fogham. And if someone can look far away, look at the whole of Terra, they will see the same scene everywhere.

Panicked commoners paused for the loudspeakers in the streets, and the anxious nobles and dignitaries awaited the next sentence in the newsletter with ecstasy, which was heard by countless people.

The voice was heard by everyone, even the warriors in the tunnel.

La Endymion was one of them, as was his commander Constantine, and even the servants could hear it behind them. Even the servants stood still.

So, what about the demons?

Of course, they can hear it. They trembled, roared with fear and hatred, the killing stopped, and the fear of encountering predators forced them to stiffen.

But why? Why is this happening? Who's talking?

Later scholars recorded that on this day, on the day of the shattering of Terra, the emperor gave a short speech of only fifty-five words, which inspired mankind for 10,000 years.

Countless people chanted it and died, and countless people recited it and lived.

"Loyal Terra, warriors, people of the Empire."

"This is the moment."

"There is no sense of escape, there is no chance of retreat. There is only fighting, only fighting. ”

"Fight for humanity."

"Till death strike."

The last chapter can't be written, and it's back tomorrow.

In addition, the explanation of why Deracknien was able to kill and injure the Emperor in this chapter was all forced by me, and I hope it makes sense, so I don't take it as an official setting.

(End of chapter)