AI Model: gemini-2.5-flash
"Logar, you did well."
"If one day someone blames me for this, will you help me?"
"Do you even need to ask? Of course, I'll stand by you."
Logar's lips slowly curved upwards, his handsome face outlined in a warm golden glow by the flickering firelight.
Erebus lowered his head; he was starting to dislike Logar a little.
Worp spoiled Logar too much. He was already grown up, so why did Worp still spoil him like a child?
Logar was also too childish. He was already a giant over two meters tall, so why did he still chatter incessantly in front of Worp like a child?
He was not only childish but also cunning.
Erebus felt that what Worp said today would sooner or later become a boomerang, hitting the other Primarchs squarely in the back of the head.
Chapter 64: Some Brothers, Some.
"For freedom, glory belongs to Logar!"
"For the Covenant, slay the heretics!"
The sounds of battle between the rebels and the Holy Covenant Army tore through the descending cold night, the sharp crack of flintlocks vibrated in the crisp air, and the roar of steam engines intertwined with the wails of the dying, forming a cruel symphony.
Slaves wrapped in coarse linen huddled on their dormitory beds, tightly covering their children's ears with trembling hands, as if this war had nothing to do with them.
Despite the Holy Covenant Army's stubborn resistance, the rebels still stormed into Echshe Hulk's temple. The Armorer Deacon guarding the temple was blown apart by Crawler artillery, the towering holy statue was toppled, and all the scriptures were set ablaze, declaring the victory of this war.
The Holy Covenant Army was caught off guard by the rebel raid. Akhida led his troops to bypass Echshe Hulk's frontal defenses by circling from the eastern sand ridge, and the Crawlers effortlessly blasted open the city gates.
Although the rebels paid a price of over a hundred casualties, their sacrifice was worth it compared to the victory of capturing Echshe Hulk.
"My Lord, I hope you are safe."
Akhida looked in the direction of Melson. He was not praying to the gods, but merely offering an ancient and beautiful human blessing.
After the cold descent came the high night. Even steam engine-driven Crawlers could not travel continuously during the high night, and Echshe Hulk was still two small days away from Melson. They could not return in time, so prayer was the only thing he could do.
…
"Esperia, you traitor!"
Tricu's Armorer Deacon arched his armored back like an enraged desert scorpion, and the scimitar in his hand transformed into a silver lightning bolt, vowing to cut the betrayer into a thousand pieces.
He wore the same exoskeleton armor as Esperia. Although this armor lacked the suffocating defense and destructive firepower of a Holy War Warrior, it possessed astonishing advantages in mobility.
"You are accused of heresy, a unforgivable crime! I will purify your body, and the gods will judge your soul!"
Esperia was briefly dazed, because she had said these very words not long ago, and had even executed Atlantis's priest.
Yet, in a blink, she herself became a heretic. She could not refute it, but she would not surrender either.
She twisted her body sharply, her scimitar carving a fatal silver arc through the air, accurately piercing into the neck joint of the opponent's exoskeleton armor.
Amidst the muffled sound of tearing metal and flesh, hot blood gushed out along the blade groove, splattering like dazzling red plums on the sand.
"Why, Esperia, why did you betray us?"
The dying Armorer Deacon gasped hoarsely, his armor joints screeching with metallic friction as he convulsed, finally crashing to the ground and raising a cloud of dust.
Esperia lowered her head, but did not look at the Armorer Deacon's corpse.
They had once knelt together before the gilded altar in the Vahadish temple, and the Archdeacon had personally bestowed upon them the holy office of Armorer Deacon.
He was different from her; his father was a priest of the Covenant, while she was just a commoner's child.
She hadn't been able to stay in the coastal town, but was assigned to Atlantis.
He could have stayed there, with a bright future, but he also came to Tricu.
Esperia knew why; he liked her.
But she had sworn before the Archdeacon to remain chaste and dedicate the rest of her life to the gods.
Her vow was not out of piety, but to make the Archdeacon value her more, so that she could stay in the coastal town instead of the barren low desert.
But the Archdeacon seemed to see through her ulterior motives, and she was still assigned to Atlantis.
He came to Tricu for her, but she personally killed him.
"Why?"
Esperia asked herself, why did she betray the Covenant, and why did she follow Logar?
She could have told him she was coerced, begged the Covenant for forgiveness with the bodies of these rebels. He liked her so much, he would surely vouch for her.
She could return to the Covenant, and even exchange information about the rebels for a promising future.
If she married him, their combined strength as two Armorer Deacons might even lead them to the Archdeacon's throne in their later years; their future was bright.
Yet she killed him.
Esperia's fingertips unconsciously wiped the bloodstains on her scimitar, and memories flooded back like a tide.
The figure of the youth in his flowing white robes, amidst the burning scriptures, became increasingly clear. In the depths of his violet eyes, nebulae seemed to swirl, and when she gazed into those eyes, she felt as if she saw the entire galaxy's brilliance solidified in that fleeting glimpse.
The youth's handsome face, illuminated by the firelight, was imbued with a divine glow, and even the blood droplets splattered on his cheeks were like rubies adorning a divine statue.
He said he was not a god, but was he truly not?
Esperia did not believe it.
He said the gods were false, and faith was a shackle.
Then she would listen to him, abandon the false gods, and break the shackles of faith.
Because she had never seen the gods, and because a god stood before her.
Esperia's gaze swept over the gradually cooling corpse. The rebel warrior was clumsily stripping off his exoskeleton armor.
The same training, the same vows, yet they diverged at the crossroads of fate.
He remained trapped, struggling within the lies woven by the gods, while she chose to follow Logar to break the shackles of faith and shatter the gods' lies.
"Commander Esperia."
Van Mogel walked towards him with a worried expression, "Do we truly not need to reinforce Melson?"
Esperia asked, "Do you not believe in Logar?"
Van Mogel was stunned. Esperia said, "I believe him."
A god would not lose, no matter who the enemy was.
…
"If someone is destined to bear the shackles of faith, then let it be me."
Logar stood silently on the blood-soaked sand, his violet eyes downcast, gazing at the scattered corpses.
The hem of his white robe was soaked with blood, dragging dark red streaks across the cold, dry sand.
In those eyes, where the light of nebulae swirled, a divine compassion was revealed.
Neither Akhida nor Esperia had completely abandoned faith; they had merely shifted the object of their faith from the gods to Logar.
Even when Esperia knelt forlornly before the sea of fire, Logar could see the fervent flame of faith burning in her eyes.
They all saw him as a god, and the Covenant and the gods as heretics.
Logar knew this would lead to endless trouble. They saw him as a god now because they had not seen a true god. If one day the gods were to show them true miracles, perhaps they would abandon him just as they abandoned the Covenant, and return to the embrace of the gods.
Logar was not a god and could not change their minds.
He could have killed them, granted them true liberation, thus leaving no hidden dangers.
But he was too kind; he was unwilling to harm those who followed him, even if they followed him for the wrong reasons.
They believed in and followed him, albeit with a mistaken faith, but they practiced his way, and they made great sacrifices, gladly.
Could there truly be someone in this world who, because others followed him out of faith, would angrily kill those who devoutly believed in him?
Logar could not do it, so he could only endure their faith alone, bearing the pain himself.
Logar hoped they would die in the glory of liberating Colchis, but if any of them survived the war, he would also properly arrange their future.
Logar looked back at the group of youths standing in the biting cold wind behind him, their cracked lips tinged purple, tiny ice crystals clinging to their eyelashes and hair, falling like dust with their trembling breaths, yet they still stubbornly held their heads high.
They were the Ashen Circle, and they were the ones who could truly practice his way.
"I am not a god."
Logar told them again and again, "We are human."
…
"The Covenant has lost five thousand elite warriors and all settlements around Atlantis. They are unable to organize another attack in the short term."
Logar spoke lightly, but everyone else understood that without Logar, those five thousand Holy Covenant Army soldiers alone could have annihilated the rebel uprising.
Logar: "Esperia, you understand the Covenant better than us. How long will it take for them to gather their army and launch a full-scale invasion?"
Esperia: "Vahadish's Holy Covenant Army has only twenty thousand standing troops. This five-thousand-strong vanguard is already a quarter of their total force. According to normal tactical projections, to annihilate their vanguard, the rebel army would need to be at least twenty thousand strong."
"To suppress the rebels, the Covenant will mobilize at least fifty thousand troops, which must be drawn from garrisons in other surrounding towns. The assembly of the army, plus the preparation of food and supplies, will take approximately ten days."
"Ten days, seventy small days."
Logar said, "Then we can gain a valuable respite. Esperia, Akhida, quickly train the rebels. We need to launch a new offensive within five days."
Esperia and Akhida nodded gravely. Any command issued by Logar was sacred; they had to complete it.
The rebels now controlled four 'cities,' with no shortage of water and food, and a total slave population of one hundred thousand.
However, limited by the quantity of weapons and equipment, and the need for a large population to maintain settlements, they could arm a maximum of only ten thousand rebels.
Ten thousand against fifty thousand, and a ragtag army against a regular army—there was no chance of victory.
But as long as Logar was there, their chances of victory were one thousand percent!
Why should the Covenant, who believed in false gods, contend with rebels who possessed a true god?
Logar: "I need to leave for a while. Erebus will lead you in my place for these two days."
"Yes, My Lord."
…
By the Empire's standard for classifying worlds, Colchis could be categorized as a Death World.
It was too hot, and too cold, with day and night each lasting 85 hours.
Colchis's area was three times that of Terra, but over 97% of its surface consisted of barren mountains and deserts, with only the polar ocean regions being habitable.
Yet, humanity stubbornly survived on this world. Colchis natives were generally more tolerant of heat and cold than humans from other worlds, a legacy of the Golden Age's directed genetic optimization.
Before the Age of Strife, this world also had an advanced civilization, and the fragmented ring visible in the night sky was clear evidence.
Metallic debris floated in Colchis's orbit like Saturn's rings around this desolate world. Logar, observing through a telescope, could distinguish hundreds of ancient spaceship wrecks.
They rotated slowly outside the thin atmosphere, their broken keels resembling the skeletons of giant beasts, twisted armor plates reflecting the cold light of the star, and faint electrical arcs occasionally sparking from shattered engine arrays, as if narrating the glory and fall of that lost era.
Logar: "I will rebuild it."
Logar gazed at the star-studded night sky. The high night desert was utterly silent, with only him and Worp, and no annoying Erebus.
Logar disliked Erebus, just as he disliked Koz.
Before he met Worp, this lucky mortal had already followed by Worp's side.
Whenever he wanted to be alone with Worp, Erebus would shamelessly cling to them both, impossible to shake off.
Logar could understand Erebus's feelings for Worp; it was similar to his own but different, because Erebus's feelings for Worp were definitely not as profound as his.
"Colchis or the orbital ring?"
Worp asked.
He was observing the ring with a telescope. Logar had found it in the treasure vault beneath Melson's temple, and it was the only thing he had actively sought.
"Everything. I will correct all things and set them back on track."
This tranquil moment seemed to freeze time, becoming an eternity belonging only to the two of them. How Logar wished such nights could last forever.
He often fell into conflicting thoughts in the quiet night wind, and when his violet eyes gazed at the stars, a hint of melancholy, imperceptible to ordinary people, would emerge.