Thanks to the formidable discipline of the two legions, and the fact that the Fifteenth Legion truly offered no further resistance, Prospero's armed forces were disarmed in batches.
The mortal soldiers were gathered together under guard, watched over by units carrying heavy weapons. At the slightest sign of rebellion, they would be executed on the spot.
The Astartes, on the other hand, were granted a measure of dignity. Even the Night Lords—scum that they were—did not strip the noble sorcerers of their power armor. They merely confiscated their bolters, staves, and other weapons, and even then, left them piled where the Thousand Sons could still see them.
Then they had them obediently gather around Magnus.
This was partly to reassure Magnus, and partly to show the Thousand Sons that the allied fleet was not nearly as bloodthirsty as they imagined.
We came for justice. War was only a means to an end. As long as you cooperated, who would go out of their way to torment you?
Besides, if they really did mistreat them and the Emperor came asking questions afterward, would that not just be inviting trouble? Their lives belonged to the Emperor now.
Thus, with the aid of Magnus's psychic broadcast, more and more Thousand Sons made their way toward Tizca. Naturally, as they traveled, they had already been informed of the situation: no weapons, hands raised, and move of their own accord toward their primarch's position.
And once they saw Magnus, the enraged Thousand Sons gradually calmed down. Under the soothing words of their captains, they gritted their teeth and accepted it.
As long as Father was alive, nothing else mattered. So what if they had lost? That alone was not the end of the world.
As for the Prosperine civilians caught in the flames of war, the allied fleet dispatched manpower to rescue them in earnest. Medicine, food, and most importantly, water, rained down onto the surface in bulk.
Though these people were accomplices too and, by all rights, should have been herded together and made to atone for generations, neither Horus nor Curze wished to drive things to total ruin. In all things, one ought to leave some room for retreat.
No matter what, Prospero was still the homeworld of a legion. If they took things that far, they would forge a blood feud with the Fifteenth Legion. Besides, Magnus was only foolish and arrogant, not a true traitor.
How the other worlds beyond Prospero would be handled was another matter entirely.
Soon enough, a night stinking of gunpowder passed into an uneasy calm. Tizca gradually recovered the barest semblance of order. The Prosperine people, once they learned the war was over, wept bitterly, yet still set to work clearing the hellish ruins around them.
That labor would likely continue for a very, very long time—so long that even thousands, perhaps tens of thousands of years from now, people would still remember it.
But compared to Tizca's original fate—being teleported into a daemon world—this was already a far better ending.
At least, that was what Bruce and Curze believed.
"Acting Commander, you're incredible. You fought a primarch to a standstill and lived?" Warfarin gave Bruce a huge thumbs-up after examining him.
Really, it was only two broken legs, three cracked ribs, and torn muscles across his back. For someone who had exchanged several rounds with a primarch, that hardly counted as anything at all.
After all, this was a man who had actually survived trading blows with a primarch.
If it had been anyone else, they would already be dead. There wouldn't even be a body left lying there.
"So, Doctor... how long until I recover?" Bruce, wrapped head to toe in bandages like a mummy, lay flat on the bed.
Beside him was the enormous Crimson King himself, in no better condition. With his spine broken, Magnus could only lie there on his stomach and wait for his body to knit itself back together.
Bruce's injuries had been caused by Magnus, of course, but that did not stop the two of them from becoming infirmary companions.
"Hard to say. Your injuries are weird. Strictly speaking, your legs should probably be amputated. But there's still plenty of vitality in them, so let's keep observing." Warfarin offered her honest professional assessment.
"Then what about legion affairs—mmph!"
Before Bruce could finish, a thick, piping-hot fried dough stick was shoved straight into his mouth.
"..." Meiling stood there with a youtiao in one hand and soy milk in the other, with several freshly boiled tea eggs waiting to be peeled beside her. "Commander Sevatar said she intends to atone personally, so you won't have to trouble yourself."
Because she had also failed to reach the primarch in time and render aid, she had been punished with the task of watching over Bruce. Along with her came nearly half a company of the Black Guard.
Much as Sevatar hated to admit it, once the war's results were tallied, Bruce was the undisputed MVP.
After all—who had followed a primarch from the beginning of the battle to the end? Who had stood beside a primarch in a full fight against another primarch and still survived?
Granted, the true circumstances were not quite that "dramatic," but Bruce's reputation had already spread through both the Eighth and Sixteenth Legions.
Now everyone knew there was an Astartes so ferocious he had fought a primarch and lived to tell the tale.
Even the mighty First Captain Abaddon had nearly died. Little Horus had yet to wake up at all.
The strongest beneath the primarchs. None other than Bruce.
"Meiling! Could you not stuff food into someone's mouth when they're talking? It's weird, okay?" Bruce had to struggle just to bite through the whole fried stick, and nearly choked to death doing it.
"Can't help it. Father said if the food wasn't gone by the time she came back, I'd be whipped like a spinning top. I don't want to die..." Meiling hurriedly peeled an egg, looking every bit like she intended to stuff Bruce like a goose.
"..." Magnus, lying nearby, could not help falling into thought as he watched the scene unfold.
This fellow looked utterly harmless. How, then, could he possibly become the dictator of humanity in the future? A tyrant so dreadful?
It was bizarre.
And yet those high lords and nobles had all spoken of him exactly that way.
"Father..." Uthizzar Kraid approached Magnus with a drawn face and reported the latest numbers.
"This battle... our legion's dead have already passed twenty thousand."
At those words, the Thousand Sons gathered at their primarch's side all showed expressions of grief. The pain in the air spread without a sound.
The Thousand Sons had never been numerous to begin with. Even counting the detached elements away on special assignments, they numbered barely sixty thousand in all.
And in a single battle, they had lost a full third of that.
This could no longer be described as mere grievous losses. Their very foundations had been shaken.
At this point, the Thousand Sons were only barely better off than the Emperor's Children at their absolute lowest—and not by much.
"I understand..." Magnus closed his eyes and answered in a voice heavy with sorrow.
In the end, the problem of his sons' mutations remained unsolved, and now so many had died on top of it.
Perhaps they had been right. Perhaps he truly was just an ogryn.
For the first time, under the brutal weight of reality, the once-proud and arrogant Crimson King was losing the sharpness of his edge. In its place came thought. Reflection.
"But you needn't despair."
Magnus gritted his teeth and, with effort, rolled over to face the sons gathered around him.
"You are still here. I am still here. Then the Thousand Sons still have hope."
"Even if Father chooses to execute me for this... so long as you remain, the legion will remain."
"The five schools. The nine fellowships. You will be the legion's inheritance."
At last, Magnus had grasped it. The Emperor had enacted the Edict of Nikaea for a reason. There had to be meaning in it; Magnus had simply refused to understand.
If he was given even a little time, there was still something worthwhile he could do.
First, he had to reduce the Thousand Sons' dependence on psychic power.
This war had exposed one brutal truth: their overreliance on sorcery had only multiplied their casualties.
Too many Thousand Sons had fought until they lost control, overdrawn their powers, and then had their bodies turned against them by the tutelaries. After that, one collapse followed another.
So in many cases, those twenty thousand dead had not truly been killed by the allied legions.
They had died because of the Thousand Sons' own failings.
"F-Father!"
"We can't lose you!"
"That's right! If you're really... then what meaning does the legion have anymore?"
"We are here because we came to learn from you!"
"If even you are gone, then what purpose would all these schools and fellowships have?"
Hearing Magnus speak, the Thousand Sons could not help but grow more sorrowful.
Even though they knew perfectly well that this war had broken out entirely because of their gene-father's mistakes—
what did that change?
No matter what else he was, this was still their father. Their gene-father.
"Ahem."
An ill-timed cough suddenly interrupted the atmosphere.
The Thousand Sons all turned and, upon seeing who stood there, instantly went pale.
K-Konrad Curze?!
Had she come to settle accounts with their father?
No. Absolutely not!
"Don't look at me like that. If I came to kill him, I wouldn't have come this politely." Curze looked distinctly annoyed.
Yes, perhaps their moment of father-son reconciliation was lovely and all, but her own sons had also died. So had Horus's. Those dead would stay buried here forever.
Magnus looked up with a grim expression. "Is there something I can help you with, my brother?"
He could tell at once that Curze had not come here casually. Whatever it was, it had to be serious.
"Just one question."
Curze's gaze sharpened.
"Where is your First Captain, Ahzek Ahriman? And the other captains—where are they?"
"Do you know where they went?"
If only one had run, that was manageable.
If a whole group had disappeared—and all of them captains—then the situation was much worse.
And with that particular lineup...
Curze could not shake the feeling that something very bad was about to happen.
Join here to read ahead.
In Star Rail, Ultra-Beast Armored — Have I Caught "Equilibrium"? l (Chapter 80)
Uma Musume, But I Only Have Five Years Left to Live (Chapter 178)
Zenless Zone Zero: I'm a Doctor, Not a Bangboo (Chapter 150)
Ben Tennyson Wants to Join the Justice League ( 126 )
TYPE-MOON: Redemption Beginning with the Holy Grail War (Chapter110)
Yu-Gi-Oh! — Transmigrated into the White Dragon Girl (Chapter190)
"Is this chat group even serious?" (Chapter105)
I, Lord Ravager, Utterly Loyal! (Chapter222)
Can Playing Games Save the World? 65
Crossover Anime Multiverse: The Demon Hunter of an Unnatural World 77
From Junkman to Wasteland 66
Weekly Refresh of Overpowered 31
I'm Grinding Proficiency Like 46
From Kiana, Lord Ravager, Onwa 190
Honkai: Is This Still the Prev 42
Elf: My Starter Pokémon Is Inc 65
Warhammer: My Primarch Is Remi 170
From Demon Slayer to Grand Ass Volume2/5
The Way the Umamusume Look at 68
Uma Musume, but My Cheat Power 215
Naruto: Weaving the Future, Be 65
Zenless Zone Zero, but Kamen R 76
Multiverse Crossover: The Perf 66
My Cyberpsycho Girlfriend 65
Uma Musume: The Dark Trainer 200
Uma Musume: A Calamity Born fr 154
I, a Reincarnation-Loop Player Volume4/30
The Violent Girl Group Is Beat 115
Uma Musume: The Horse Girl Who 67
Uma Musume: From Beginner 130
Becoming a Horse Girl, I Will 85
Uma Musume: I Want All 105
I Can Copy Unique Skills 100
Summoning an Evil God, but the 70
Supernatural Multiverse 90
My Harem Is Indescribable 85
Jujutsu Kaisen: Heroic Spirit 90
"I'm just a Valkyrie passing through." 68
Uma Musume: Today Is Another Romantic Battlefield 81
Still playing traditional Honk 69
The Most Filial Son Under Heav 65
What Should I Do After Switchi - Volume2/3
Reincarnated as a Demon, Skill 60
Hell-Difficulty Dungeon? 55
Transmigrated as Sukuna 61
Checking In in Demon Slayer 65
The Reincarnating Trainer of Tracen Academy 80
I Refuse to Become a Heroic 66
My Best Friend Into a Slime? 58
A Saiyan Stands Above Marvel 65
What Do You Mean by Using a Lab Mod to Be the Hero? 63
Tanya Starts from Re:Zero 59
Why did they assign me to Uma 55
MYGO Beauties 56
DanMachi: Emiya the Giant Hero 45
The Gacha Merchant Who Started 49
Honkai's Otherworld? Wait—Who Are You People?! 26
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