Warhammer 30: The Second Legion's Expedition

Chapter 54 Gift, Awakening and Prophecy

"I grant permission, Kana John." Hector appeared out of nowhere.

In his hand was a piece of alloy iron that he had broken off from a table.

"I hope you won't mind, my friend." Hector was moved by Kana John's almost confessional loyalty.

He held up the alloy iron block in his hand and waved it in front of everyone.

"The situation is urgent, and this is the fastest suitable medium I could find for carving. I hope you won't mind, Kana John," Hector said with a smile.

Carne John was deeply moved and said, "You may just call me John, sir."

"How could I mind?" He almost knelt down, his joy washing away the last trace of dissatisfaction. At this moment, he began to feel ashamed and regret his previous disrespectful remarks.

He began to regret his previous hateful thoughts.

"My lord..." he murmured.

Hector wasted no time and said to the two Dawnbringers beside him, "What is it, my son?"

"Your Majesty," Onosque said, "the ceremony to bid farewell to the fallen and the warriors is ready."

"Is there enough time for me to finish carving a statue?" Hector paused for a moment, then asked seriously.

"Of course, Your Majesty," Onosque nodded.

"Then wait for me, my sons," said Hector.

He feared that his feelings after the farewell would prevent him from carving a piece that satisfied him.

He reached out to Holmes, who, from who knows where, produced a short blade and placed it in Holmes's palm just as Hector extended his hand.

Hector was not surprised; he accepted the short blade almost instantly and began carving with complete concentration.

He glanced at Carne John, then at Holmes, who had taken out a huge mirror, and studied his reflection.

The short blade in his hand cut rapidly like a carving knife, and alloy shavings flew like snowflakes and fell to the ground.

Hector was incredibly fast; he had already studied this technique using stone tablets and wood back in Troy.

At almost the speed of the naked eye, two rough-looking humanoid figures, whose general style and appearance could already be discerned, appeared in Hector's hands.

The two, one big and one small, fought side by side. Cana John held a laser pistol high in one hand and a small chainsaw sword in the other, clearly shouting the enemy-repelling regulations and battle oaths.

Beside him stood the Primarch himself, wielding the shield and spear forged by the Emperor himself and named by Hector as the Guardian and Cleansing Spear.

As everyone watched, they marveled at the father of genetics' skill, but also felt a deep envy for the lucky Carne John, a sentiment even Sherlock Holmes couldn't help but feel.

Looking at the statue that was nearing completion, Holmes felt an urge to snatch it from the mortal and replace the statue of Carne John with his own.

"I hope you like it, Kana." Hector smiled, and with the final stroke, he carved as many patterns as possible onto his custom-made power armor.

Every pattern and every detail on it is lifelike.

The statue stands on Hector's large hand, like another, smaller one, fighting side by side with him.

Tears streamed down Kana John's face as he convulsed and trembled as if having an epileptic seizure, before collapsing to his knees.

This tough man looked like a young child separated from his mother, so sad that he covered his face with his hands.

"Take it, Kana John," Hector said with a smile.

Holmes stepped onto the deck, deliberately making a thumping sound to wake the sobbing, grieving child.

"I, I..." Kana John sobbed as he took it, and as if he were about to die, he stammered his thanks to Hector, "Thank you, sir."

"Call me Hector, Cana." Hector showed his approachable side, extending his hand for the other to take.

In his panic, Kana John, with a courage he didn't know where it came from, took Hector's large hand, which could easily crush his head, and quickly stood up.

"Thank you, sir." Kana John still habitually addressed Hector as "sir."

Hector did not insist on changing the title, and he smiled at Kane John, saying, "This is the umpteenth time you've thanked me today, my friend."

"But now, I have more important things to do; my children are waiting for me."

"I hope you understand that I am not abandoning you, but rather hoping that you can do more for this great cause."

"You always know how to change the subject with comforting words, sir," Cana said affectionately.

"Please leave, sir. As you said, your descendants await you, and the warriors who have sacrificed themselves for a great cause need your presence even more."

Hector nodded solemnly, said nothing more, and turned to Onosque and the other man, saying, "Let's go, my son."

The two men pounded their chests and took the initiative to walk in front.

Holmes frowned, a prophetic unease rising in his heart, and glanced at the two men's backs one last time.

…………

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"Drink!"

"What's going on!"

"It's over there, it looks like that... Hurry, someone's awake, it's a hibernation pod."

"How could this be? According to normal calculations, it shouldn't be like this..."

"Stop caring about all that bastard, go welcome our resurrected brothers!"

The pharmacists fiddled with the instruments as they and their assistants hurried toward the source of the noise.

The hibernation pod opened, and Paris awoke in terror.

His movements were extremely exaggerated, like a terrified drowning person, punching a finely crafted and expensive medical bot to the point of being scrapped.

"What's wrong, bro!" a pharmacist called out to the gesticulating Paris.

No one paid any attention to the scrapped machine servant that was making an electric crackling sound on the ground.

"A tranquilizer!" someone exclaimed.

Then a group of people rushed forward, attempting to subdue Paris.

But Paris, with a force from who-knows-where, threw the pharmacists, who were not wearing power armor but were instead covered in blood-soaked surgical gowns, off the plane.

The ping-pong ball landed on the ground with a thud, knocking over the table next to it where medical equipment was placed.

No one complained. The pharmacists who had been thrown off their feet quickly got up and swarmed back to forcibly restrain Paris.

Someone reacted quickly, grabbing a medical mechanical tentacle with a needle as thick as a finger attached, and without hesitation, plunged it into Paris's back.

As the clear liquid was rapidly pushed in, Paris's agitated and ferocious expression gradually returned to calm, and his waving arms stopped flailing wildly.

The next second, the pharmacists completely subdued Paris.

With the injection of more medicine, everything proceeded smoothly.

Paris finally regained his composure.

Just as Paris regained his composure and everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

A faint, urgent, almost delirious voice from Paris echoed in the panting room, sending a chill down everyone's spine.

"Someone wants to harm my brother."

"There, warrior, at the monument."