Chapter 11: The Perfect City of Promises

Page 1 of 3

“Well, um... I expect I’ll be waking up soon. I can only see you all in my dreams. Honestly, you troublesome little brothers just keep getting worse.”

Aaron awkwardly rubbed his smooth scalp, then tugged at Lorgar’s sleeve.

“Put me down. Next time I dream, I’ll appear right beside you anyway.”

Lorgar stopped and set Aaron on the ground.

The giant’s expression was solemn.

“I have not yet acknowledged that I am your brother. Aaron, you have merely gone from being a dangerous worshiper of darkness to an ordinary heretic. Our consistent practice with people like you is to raise stone monuments and altars in your homeland, then spread our doctrine.”

“In the end, we shall transform the entire world into a perfect city devoted to the one true god. It will be filled with everlasting peace and beauty. The future of humanity lies within it.”

“Still...” His expression slowly softened. “Tell me what your father is really like. I do not remember who my own father was at all.”

At this, Aaron brightened. He dropped heavily onto the ground and patted the empty space beside him.

“My dear little brother, let me tell you about that old bastard.”

Lorgar sat cross-legged. His body was simply too enormous, and he had to adjust his position so that he would not block the moonlight.

He found some wood, then struck a stone with the claw hammer in his hand. Sparks flew, igniting a campfire.

Aaron glanced warily back toward the castle on the mountainside and asked, “Those fellows aren’t going to come after us, are they?”

Lorgar shook his head. “There is no need to worry until they have decided the victor between them. As you said, before you awaken, tell me about your father. My adoptive father was Kor Phaeron, but once I grew older, he came to fear me and unconsciously pushed me away. I was not one of his kind, after all. Even so, I still respected him.”

If Aaron’s father truly was my father as well, perhaps that would resolve some of the questions in my heart.

That was what Lorgar thought.

Aaron pressed both hands against his knees and coughed twice.

“Ahem. Let’s skip Mother for now. If I describe anything incorrectly, she’ll definitely beat me when she comes back.”

“As for our father: King of the gods, lord of thunder, master of the palace atop the highest mountain, and wielder of power in the eternal present age.”

“Well, that’s what the myths say. These days, he’s merely a hunched old blacksmith—and not much of a blacksmith at that. He makes a living firing clay tablets for the people of the city.”

Aaron thought about it, but still decided not to mention that their main source of income came from the gifts left behind by noblewomen pursuing their father.

Lorgar looked toward the sky.

“I see. He appears to be a god of civilization from a small realm. At least authority and order still exist there, so it is not as chaotic and debased as the domains of the dark gods.”

Aaron smacked his lips and shook his head.

“Oh, come on. You’re just like Guilliman. Why do you start judging everything according to your own ideas the moment you begin talking? Whenever you use all those serious-sounding words, I feel as though my head isn’t big enough for them.”

Page 1 of 3

Page 2 of 3

“You’re listening to my story right now, so let’s use my perspective as the basis, all right?”

Lorgar turned his head aside and lowered his gaze.

“Have it your way.”

Aaron snorted.

“Once we meet you in the real world, in actual time, I’m going to kick all of your asses!”

“Never mind, never mind. I’m not going to talk anymore. I’m about to wake up. That old bastard will definitely make me cook during the day. Give me something from your belongings, and then I’ll be able to give you something of our father’s in return. That’s how Malum explained it.”

Aaron held out his hand, asking Lorgar for something.

Lorgar looked down and searched himself. Aside from his clothes, the only thing he carried was his claw hammer.

After thinking for a moment, he snapped off one of the longer, less sharply pointed nails from the hammer.

It might serve as a tool for inscribing words on clay tablets.

Aaron took it and casually spun it around a few times, clearly pleased with the feel of it.

Lorgar smiled.

“Treat it as a carving knife. You can use it to record anything you wish.”

Aaron nodded and carefully put the “pen” away. Feeling the call of his waking self in the real world, he offered one final farewell.

“Lorgar, my little brother, your ultimate dream is to build a perfect city, isn’t it? I’ll help you achieve it!”

Aaron faded from sight.

The giant stood frozen in place, his gaze lingering blankly on the spot where his “elder brother” had been.

He rose and took up his claw hammer once more.

Lorgar had not been lying. He had allowed himself to be “captured” by the worshipers of darkness so that he could gather them together and destroy them all in one stroke.

He would guide his companions to the settlements where these hidden dark forces had gathered.

Step by step, he would destroy the heretical faiths of the dark gods.

The giant raised his arms and cried out. In the distance, warriors of the one true god came in response to his call.

“We have finally found one of the castles of the dark realm—the gathering place of those sinners!”

“My brothers, destroy that castle and build a perfect city belonging solely to the one true god!”

“Erebus, attack the gates. Their defenses are weak now. Everyone else, follow me!”

The faithful followed close behind the giant as he charged, running beneath the moonlight.

This was the first battle in the history of Colchis’s unification. Many among the faithful who followed the primarch would later become the backbone of the Word Bearers Legion.

The record of the primarch Lorgar Aurelian being “tongue-kissed” by the Slaaneshi beast Lexmai, however, was never passed down.

Aaron awoke from his beautiful dream of being reunited with his brothers. He stretched, leapt from Malum’s back, and took the donkey off the Custodian’s hands as well.

“That old bastard isn’t too feeble to walk. His eyesight is merely failing. It’s daytime now, so let him walk by himself.”

Page 2 of 3

Page 3 of 3

Malum expressed his respect and asked, “Aaron, what did you dream about this time?”

Aaron glanced ahead. They were already very close to his father.

He looked down at his waist. The nail broken off Lorgar’s claw hammer was truly there.

Excitedly, Aaron took it out and called to his father, “Hey! I dreamed about another brother! He gave me this!”

Anda turned his head and stared at the object that had not yet been tainted by impurity. His brow furrowed so deeply that it seemed he might squeeze shut every crack in the earth.

“Aaron, snap that thing in half and throw it away. No—burn it!”

Anda roared.

Aaron refused without hesitation.

“This is a gift from my little brother! I don’t feel any sense of family when I’m with you at all. But in my dreams, my brothers are all so pleasant to talk to, and every one of them is a hero destined to accomplish great deeds!”

He still remembered what Lorgar had said: he would destroy all the worshipers of darkness in Colchis and give its people a beautiful life.

Anda could not help but freeze. His expression grew darker and darker, like thunderclouds gathering in summer.

Even Malum felt as though the many organs within his body could no longer continue functioning.

At last, Anda spoke. He forced down his thunderous fury.

“Do as you please. In any case, the age of your brothers lies far in the future. Once you come of age next year, I’ll throw you out of the house. You can fend for yourself.”

Aaron sneered.

“Throw me out? I understand now. You drove all my brothers away the moment they came of age, didn’t you?”

“When they encountered difficulties and sought your help, you never answered them!”

Malum very much wanted to explain on behalf of his master that the primarchs’ initial abandonment had not been his doing, but had been caused by their mother.

Still, after the primarchs returned to Terra, they were sent off to the Great Crusade again before long.

His master was, indeed, a completely hands-off father.

What a pair of parents to be saddled with. Enough was enough!