Warhammer 30: The Second Legion's Expedition

Chapter 42 Oath Before Battle

Lestrade didn't emphasize his words, but both of them fell silent.

Paris, in particular, blushed and then darkened, his gaze toward Sopa growing increasingly hostile.

"He said I lacked courage and hesitated on the battlefield," Paris said.

"That's what I mean," Sopa readily admitted.

Lestrade glanced at Sopa, then said to Paris, "You stopped."

Lestrade was quite certain of this, and he didn't even ask a question about it.

"Yes, sir," Paris replied.

He didn't think there was a problem with it. He was already preparing to tell the company champions and Lestrade, who were at the forefront of the charge, about the discovery, hoping to put a temporary halt to the fighting.

Upon hearing this, Lestrade stared intently at Paris, who had raised his head, and looked into his eyes. He said, "Then Sopa was right. You are a coward."

The verdict was delivered, and many soldiers turned their heads away, unwilling to look.

Clearly, they were all listening secretly, and then they heard this not-so-secret secret, which might become a small-scale topic of conversation between the First and Eighth Dalian, serving as one of the few sources of leisure and amusement among the Astartes.

Paris's face turned bright red.

The temperature rose so high that even Paris, with his superhuman physique, felt dizzy.

His head was throbbing with blood, and anger was almost his only thought, completely overriding his shame and confusion.

Beneath the power armor, his body trembled, his index finger slightly bent, repeatedly making the habitual, minute motion of pulling the trigger.

Paris instinctively glanced at Sopa, who had removed his helmet, expecting to see mockery and contempt on the man's face, as well as smugness at having the same opinion as the current supreme commander.

But no, Paris only saw an extremely serious Sopa.

He stood still, not taking advantage of the situation, which made Paris feel a different kind of confusion in addition to his anger.

“Not entirely, sir,” Sopa spoke up at this moment, pointing to Paris. “Paris wasn’t a coward, that’s too strong a word. He fought bravely and charged forward.”

Lestrade raised his hand to stop Sopa from continuing to defend Paris. He also took off his helmet, revealing a face weathered by time, barely revealing his former handsome and square features.

His serious face showed no smile, nor any other emotion.

He spoke to Paris with utmost seriousness, as if delivering the most impartial verdict: "What you did was an act of cowardice."

"Sopa is right."

Paris's lips trembled.

"I...I don't understand," he said. "I discovered something was wrong and reported it to you. Did you see my report?"

"I did see your communications," Lestrade nodded.

Paris's trembling lips calmed slightly, and he said, "I think your assessment is unfair. I was just preventing the army from falling into an alien trap. I was saving my brothers' lives."

"Wrong, soldier," Lestrade replied.

He raised his hand once again to stop Sopa from saying anything.

Paris didn't notice that Sopa was fidgeting, like an unlucky kid who had accidentally spilled a little secret and gotten his friend into trouble.

Lestrade slammed the longsword, which had slain countless enemies, into the ground. He placed one hand on the hilt and took out a booklet from his person with the other, from which a long, thin strip of paper, too long to be completely wrapped, was trailed.

Paris, Sopa, and all the warriors still watching recognized what it was.

"The oath before battle," Paris murmured, lost in his memories.

"That's right." Lestrade nodded in agreement. "This is the oath of war, the oath of war for our First Company. Your names are not on it."

"But I think you are not unfamiliar with me."

Paris's expression shifted, and finally he suddenly felt ashamed, no longer in the state of being so angry that he was almost suffocating.

He said, "Yes, sir, yes."

His voice was weak and listless, filled with deep frustration.

"It seems you already know, soldier," Lestrade said coldly, his gaze suddenly turning icy.

"Every warrior must swear an oath before going to war to the Emperor, to the Father of Genetics, that you have promised to kill for the living, to kill for the dead, and to kill for Hector."

"You promised that you would never hesitate, never be weak, and never back down."

"You promised to stand with your brothers, and you promised to bring glory and praise to the Legion with the heads of the enemies of aliens and humans."

"So, soldier, did you hesitate? Did you stand with your brothers through thick and thin?"

Paris remained silent.

He tried to find many reasons for himself, but in the end he was speechless, the words stuck deep in his throat.

His thinking had not yet fully shifted to Astartes, and even though Paris denied it, his mind was still stuck in the time when he was still the prince of Troy.

"Do you think you're the commander, soldier?" Lestrade took the booklet and tapped it on Paris's breastplate as he stood silently.

The sound was not loud; only the three people closest to it could hear it clearly.

But as Lestrade continued to strike, Paris felt as if the Dawn was pressing down on his body.

I'm starting to feel breathless. Paris told himself.

"No, sir," Paris roared, trying to suppress his emotions.

Lestrade was satisfied with this, but his expression remained unchanged.

In any case, the Primarch's brother did not choose the method he despised the most, but instead admitted his mistake.

Lestrade continued to question, "So, soldier, what were you doing while your brothers were fighting and bleeding?"

"I..." Paris felt a bitter taste in his mouth. "I dodged the guns, but I didn't run away!"

Paris had realized the folly of his actions, and what he could see, Lestrade and Sopa, the more experienced battlefield commanders (Lestrade objected), could also see.

But now that things have come to this, the only option left is to keep moving forward and fight on.

To retreat and hesitate is to betray one's brothers and to tarnish one's own honor.

He was showing off, with all sorts of arrogance, both spoken and unspoken.

Lestrade watched coldly, but he did not continue to question Paris.

This only made Paris feel more complicated, as he was filled with a bellyful of grievances and anger that he couldn't vent.

"Soldier." Lestrade opened the booklet and placed it in front of Paris. "There's no memory pen here. Are you willing to take it and swear an oath again, soldier?"

Paris took the booklet from Lestrade's hands without any hesitation.

In front of everyone, he did not choose to kneel before Lestrade, but instead turned around and knelt before Sopa, who was clearly not in a hurry to react.

Paris displayed remarkable royal magnanimity, kneeling before Sopa, raising his head, and solemnly presenting Sopa with his oath of war.

"Would you be willing to be a witness, sir?"

Sopa remained silent, wiping the blood from his hands repeatedly on his arm guard, and solemnly accepted the oath before battle.

"I am willing to heed your oath, warrior."

"Paris, do you accept this duty? Do you promise to avenge those who defy you and betray your honor?"

"I swear!"

"Have you sworn that you will never be weak, never hesitate, and never abandon your comrades and brothers?"

"I swear!"

"Have you sworn to never let any enemy of humanity go unpunished, any mortal foe who dares to oppose the bright future of the human race?"

"I swear!"

"Have you sworn an oath to bring glory to the Second Legion and victory to its Lord?"

"I swear!"

The solemn oath concluded with the warriors as witnesses. Paris then cut open his own palm and dripped his blood onto the paper.

Sopa patted Paris hard on the shoulder without saying a word.

Silence, speechless, yet their lives were entrusted to each other.

This is the Astartes.