On the battlefield north of Tyros, everything is silent, the waves of subspace have returned to calm, and the physical rules of reality have regained the upper hand on this plain.

At this moment when the dust seemed to settle, the white castle and the high wall that appeared out of thin air behind the battle line not long ago also quickly and silently disintegrated and disappeared, and the girl standing at the head of the city also fell from mid-air unconsciously. It wasn't that she hadn't prepared for it, but she couldn't react now: if you looked down from above, it was easy to see that she was completely unconscious even before the walls began to dissolve.

But she obviously wasn't going to end up with the ridiculous ending of falling headfirst to death - there were so many people on the ground.

The man dressed in white rose from the ground, as if he had anticipated the present scene, and caught the girl's falling body in mid-air; Sigismund, who was a little further away from the crowd, slowly stood up from the ground, dragging his smoky armor and burned Lingji, and stumbled back to the team; The Imperial soldiers on the battlefield were still a little dazed by the drastic change in reality, and it was not until Robert Killiman turned to them and raised the Emperor's sword that they celebrated with shouting, screaming, and crying as if a switch had been flipped on to it; While everyone wanted to see the true face of the saint, the ultramarines of the Manifest Realm in the Self-Curse Binding Army gathered around their original body-

- There is no doubt that this is a victory. The victory itself is something to celebrate, but it's not the end of it all.

Sparks flickered irregularly in the skies of Pamenio, the fleets in the void were still at war, and the other battlefields on the planet's ground were still fighting. The soldiers of these distant empires would not know why the Nurgle army had weakened significantly in the recent period. They won't let go of this obvious opportunity, but their fight won't end with a breath either.

Ultramarines hovered around the edge of the Ultramarine's ultramarine ocean with black-painted dark angels, one of the two leading men with a severed hand, and the other apparently picked up a blue helmet from the battlefield and buckled it on his head.

In the heart of the city, where they could not penetrate for the time being, Killiman spoke briefly to the man in white, and Sigismund and Akulddona, who had returned to the group, embraced him and the girl in his arms.

In the midst of the cheers, the eyes of these people remained serious, but none of them stopped the celebratory actions of the surrounding Astartes, the Astral Army, the Battle Nuns, or the others present.

It's not the final victory, but it's also a victory. This victory can be celebrated because people need it.

It is still far from the victory of this war, far from the great cause of the emperor's dream, and even farther from the future of "doing five days off, reasonable salary, appropriate surplus, and being able to play and travel safely", but this victory may indeed make mankind take a small step forward on the long road to that future.

- He admits that he would love to see that future.

High in the sky, the ravens that no one found overlook everything and witness everything. He flapped his wings in the thin air, and the high heavens echoed with the turbulence of his wings. The pitch-black crow feathers disappeared behind the curtain, and the screams and howls of the lifeless were immediately heard in the subspace. Blue feathers and eyeballs glowing with aura, blood-stained in all directions, reduced to the invisible aether in a moment, and then, with the blessing of another technology, some kind of behemoth crossed the veil almost silently:

Ralapidated, embarrassed, damaged, stained with filth, but still triumphant, the Imperial's Dream cast his great shadow on the plains of Pamenio.

——

"You see, I'm still very good at learning." Conrad Coetzes was so smug as he was.

If Rika Fujimaru had been there, he would have undoubtedly gotten a comment along the lines of "yes, but I just didn't learn well" — but alas, she wasn't there. At this point in time, she was still in the process of imaginary submarine from Tyros Cathedral to the battlefield on the Northern Front, and at this moment, none of the heirs around Koz would refute him.

And the dark angels who were coerced around him also dared to be angry with his actions.

The Lion's Mane has now broken away from the Imperial fleet's array, or rather, surveillance, and is heading for Mandeville Point in the galaxy alone. If the calculations, navigation, and handling of the plague fleet were not wrong, the slightly rerouted Galatan Star Fortress would follow her: if everything that was about to happen next went well, the behemoth would become a prison for the Midnight Lords; If it doesn't go well, then it's also a lethal enough weapon for this rabble fleet.

These orders may seem very ill-conceived, but judging by the path of data transmission and the associated electronic seals, they are the work of the Imperial Regent. No one dared to question the authority and precision of the primordial body, and even though the series of instructions did not seem to be foolproof, they were carried out without compromise out of trust in Robert Killiman.

But this order was issued at a time when the Imperial Regent himself was trapped on the battlefield of subspace with an escort of more than 100 people. It was impossible for him to move out of his authority at this point in time and issue any orders to the Lionmane.

The man who did that was Conrad Coetze.

It's been 10,000 years, and the Empire's genetic testing technology has not made much progress. Kotz, who was in a happy mood, sighed in his mind. 10,000 years ago, he used a similar tactic to impersonate the identity of Leon El Johnson on the Invincible Reason and forge an airdrop order; Ten thousand years later, he succeeded in assuming the identity of Robert Killiman and invoking the seal and authority of the imperial regent.

- The Empire's genetic testing technology may have been able to identify mortal twins, but it still can't tell the difference between the genotypes, even if they seem to be far more different than the twins.

Or perhaps, their physical genetic makeup is identical, and the reason for these differences is subspace-derived factors?

Koz allowed the little conjecture to spiral in his mind for a moment. He knew he wasn't good at it, and he didn't have any obsession with the answers to his questions. After determining that he couldn't come up with an accurate answer, he easily let it go.

The Lionmane's navigators reported on the large fleet approaching behind the Veil, and the signals reflected from the ships that had jumped out of Mandeville were beginning to appear on the divination instruments. Coates glanced at the time, and was pleased to see that everything that had happened so far had exactly matched what he had foreseen—whether it was the successful execution of his fabricated orders or the timing of his heir's fleet leaping out of subspace 10,000 years later.

This certainty gave him some satisfaction, but he still restrained his desire to continue to "look backwards" and rejected all the illusions of the future that came to him. He stood up from his chair on the bridge, looked at the dots representing the ship projected on the screen by the divination instrument for a short moment, and began to order:

"Turn on the full-band broadcast channel." "I want all of them to know that I've arrived," Coetze announced. ”

I have come for you. Midnight Ghost thought so.

Miwoo (six o'clock)

Gollum helped the Empire capture Motarian, Gollum is good.

The shell faked the regency order and acted privately, and the shell was bad.

(End of chapter)