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"...We need to tell them."
“I thought you would ignore it and let that mortal who brought us here take us back to that barbaric planet.”
"This is different."
Griffin said, but his voice clearly lacked confidence.
"Forget about that. Although we don't want to and can't meet with them directly, we still need to find a way to tell them what we know... It would be best to tell Roger Dorn directly."
"Are you going to continue using that mortal? Forgive my bluntness, but an ordinary traveling merchant would probably never even get to see Roger Dorn."
"I have my own way."
Griffin spoke, a hint of smugness in his voice.
"After all, although we are not accepted by the traitors, over the years we have learned some useful information, haven't we?"
----------
The sky over Halesridge turned pitch black. The entire continent of Amegadoton was shrouded in eternal twilight, with only the faint orange glow from the heat sinks and the flickering, dying orbs of light illuminating the planet.
On the 48th Terran after the war ended, Rogdorath stood atop the towering walls, overlooking the endless desert below. Mount Sunmare was anchored in the planetary orbit of Amigidoton, its massive body reflecting the starlight. Looking up, it resembled a strangely shaped moon.
Supported by his orderly, an elderly man, his body entangled in the mountains, slowly moved to Rogue Dorn's side. The old man did not bow, even though, as a mortal, he should, theoretically, have performed the highest form of courtesy according to the Church of England upon seeing the Primarch.
Roger Dorn showed no surprise at the question; he maintained a stern expression, giving the impression of a cold, hard stone. However, upon seeing him, one was not reminded of a stone, but rather of a sharp, yet unseen, blade.
This is Rogdoryn, a walking contradiction: a master of defense, yet also an incredibly ferocious warrior.
“Amigidon hasn’t had such a peaceful night in many years.”
Arek said so.
"As far back as I can remember, Amegadoton was always bustling, even at night, as a fortress world,"
His nests are all covered by dense factories, each of which works 22 hours a day.
Every factory, every production line, every industrial worker on that line, and even the families behind each worker—they are all cogs in this massive war machine.
The purpose of this was simply to have more resources available for use in the next orcish attack.
After speaking, the political commissar turned his head to look at Rogdorn, his old face full of seriousness. He refused the orderly's continued support, stood up straight, and made an extremely simple Eagle Salute with an extremely serious posture.
"On behalf of Amighiddon and those above, I thank you, Lord Dorn."
"Ha ha……"
Roger Dorn let out a forced laugh, which sounded like a cold and mocking smile.
However, after spending time together, Arak had come to realize that this was not Roger Dorn's original intention.
The reason he laughed like that was most likely because he hadn't laughed in a long time.
The fact that he could laugh proves that he was in a very happy and joyful mood.
"Aren't you worried that I will bring you another, even bigger war?"
"That was just Amidorton's own fate."
Arrek answered Roger Dorn's question in this way.
“Amigidon is a fortress world located at an extremely important trade and logistics hub. In such a critical position, it may lack many things, but there is one thing it will never lack: war.”
Arek sighed, seemingly lamenting the planet's tumultuous fate.
"Whatever you bring, at least for today, you have brought a peaceful night to Amigiddon."
Roggle Dorn remained noncommittal, gazing at the endless desert before him. This gave him a strange feeling, considering he had seen this desert countless times when designing the defenses for the Halsridge dynasty.
The scenery of the desert is repetitive and limited to only a few types.
Yellow sand, sand dunes, starry sky, scattered vegetation and roaming wild animals, and on Amigidoton, there may be even more remnants of war.
Such a scene will surely leave you breathless with awe the first time you see it, but once you see it many times, you will only feel an overwhelming monotony, a monotony that even the best poets cannot create two equally excellent works of.
But for Rogårdorn, the scenery was something he could never tire of.
"However, I still have a question."
Arek deliberated for a long time, and finally, the commissar mustered up his courage and looked at the Primarch beside him, the son of the God Emperor, and the father of the Imperial Fist and his sons.
"Who exactly is Amigidoton's next enemy?"
Roggle Dorn glanced at Arek, and finally, he slowly spoke, uttering a name from his throat.
"Perturabo."
Roger Dorn answered calmly.
"Next, Amagidon will face the enemy of Pedurab and his sons' fleet."
Peturabo.
Upon hearing the name, a look of confusion crossed Arrek's face. As a legend of the Empire, Arrek had always possessed considerable authority, which allowed him to be familiar with many of the Empire's enemies, even those who shouldn't have been recorded.
However, he felt a strange sense of unfamiliarity with the name Peturabo, and after racking his brains, he found that he had no information about the name.
“It’s normal that you don’t know who he is. After all, he is one of my father’s sons. After the betrayal ten thousand years ago, the information about him was sealed away.”
"Rog Dorn said, looking up at the endless starry sky."
Peturabo, I'll be waiting for you right here.
On the Ironblood, Perturabo abruptly raised his head, a strange smile appearing on his face.
"Fleet, accelerate! Full speed ahead!"
Chapter 219 The Handshake Meeting of Dorne's Offspring
I will probably never forget this day.
Danas Lysander thought to himself, as a company commander of the Imperial Fist, a warrior with a renowned reputation within the Empire,
Throughout his long life, Lysander had met countless people and experienced countless things, but in terms of the unforgettable nature of those events, none of them could compare to what happened today.
In Amighiddon, in an ordinary church in the capital of Halsridge, Rogdorn sat in the main seat.
He was not wearing armor, but only a plain black robe.
The church doors and windows were all open, and the wind rushed in from outside, causing Rogdorn's robes and his short white hair to tremble slightly.
Lysander took a deep breath, knelt respectfully on one knee before Rogdorn, and fell into a long silence.
What should I say?
Lysander thought nervously, he had never imagined that he would feel this way.
After all, even within a chapter like the Imperial Fist, their company commander, Nasreshand, is a synonym for violence, loyalty, and stubbornness.
What can make such a person nervous is enough to leave other people completely at a loss.
"Danas Lysander".
Rogdorn spoke, looking with great interest at his son, who would become quite famous ten thousand years later.
If, in The Fist of the Empire, Rogue Dorn had to choose someone very similar to himself, ten thousand years ago he would have chosen Sigismund, and ten thousand years later, based on the vaguely pieced-together imprint, he would have chosen Darnass Lysander.
His choice was not solely due to the stubbornness that Lei Shengde displayed, which was almost identical to his own.
More importantly, he learned from others about the story of how this progenitor was lost in the Warp for 1000 years before returning to the Empire.
A thousand years is a considerable amount of time for the Ada Spirit Beads, but for humans, even Space Marines, it is an eerily long time.
A thousand years is enough time for you to return to a familiar place and discover that everything you once knew, whether people or things, has become completely different from what you remember, or has simply disappeared without a trace.
Rogdorn understood this all too well; after all, when he returned to the Empire and saw this stubborn, ignorant, and dark empire before him...
He heard that his father had become a powerless, decaying corpse sitting on the throne, and felt the despair, decay, and depravity pervading all of humanity.
The fact that he didn't go insane on the spot is enough to prove that his inner strength is beyond what ordinary people can achieve.
Darnassred may not have felt as deeply as Rogdoryn, but the similar feelings still made the Stone feel a greater sense of affection for his offspring.
I've heard of you.
Rogdorn spoke in a low voice.
"You are indeed an excellent soldier, and you are truly my son."
At this point, Rogdorn's tone suddenly changed, no longer serious and vulgar, but calm and relaxed.
"After all, 1 years ago, I was often teased as a stone, and your stubborn temper is very similar to mine back then."
It was a lighthearted remark, but when it came from Rogdorn's mouth, it still sent a shiver down one's spine.
Looking at his father, Lysander was surprised to understand the meaning behind his words, and his tense nerves relaxed a little.
"grown ups……"
"Call me father."
Rogdorn sighed. He had repeated this sentence countless times today. Although the empire had become incredibly ignorant and rigid, Rogdorn knew that many people worshipped him as a god, just like his father. But if possible, at least among his children and some familiar people, he wanted him to be treated as a human being, not a god.
For example, the Seventh Legion, which has now become dozens of battle groups.
Guilliman, your decision back then was a huge mistake. At the very least, you shouldn't have solidified the Codex Astartes. What was it 1 years ago? It's still pretty much the same 1 years later, but countless warriors and resources have benefited from it, causing countless wars to be delayed and ultimately leading to the collapse of the Empire.
The empire has survived to this day for two reasons: firstly, the emperor himself serves as a deterrent, and secondly, the empire is truly like a centipede that, though dead, does not fall down.
"That's what empires are like."
Lin Qi floated behind Rogdorn, his body looking very weak. After the battle with Brother Gao Mao, he was now in a very weak period. Fortunately, he wouldn't need to do much in the rest of the battle.
His current task is to stand behind Rogdorn and provide commentary on whatever happens.
"Father."
Lysander spoke, his voice tinged with hesitation, but clearly he also very much wanted to use that word to refer to Rogdorn.
Rogdorn nodded, Lysander took a deep breath, and turned to leave the church.
"You're practically throwing a handshake party."
Lynch complained.
What is a "handshake meeting"?