The purification process took several hours this time. Throughout, Magnus awoke multiple times, but Anglang always managed to send him back into unconsciousness.
After a few hours, the purification was complete. Magnus finally transformed from a five or six-meter-tall demon prince back into his original Thousand Sons' gene-seed form. His height drastically reduced, and the traces of corruption completely vanished. What stood out more was his head, covered in bruises, his face swollen almost beyond recognition.
Ryan, panting, took out a towel and wiped the bloodstains off his face. "Father, Magnus' situation is somewhat different from Brother Anglang's. I can purify his demonized body and reverse his soul, but his way of thinking has been permanently and irreversibly changed under the influence of Tzeentch."
"I understand, but that doesn't matter," the Emperor replied coldly after hearing Ryan's explanation. His tone indicated he didn't care much: "That's not important."
Seeing this, Ryan chose not to say more.
"Ah! It hurts! It hurts!" Just as they were about to discuss further, Magnus, who was lying on the stone slab, suddenly screamed in agony. He tried to touch his face, which only increased the intensity of his screams: "Ahh! My head hurts so much!"
"Relax, brother, this is just a side effect of the purification," Anglang calmly put down his great hammer and walked over to Magnus with a grin. "It'll be better soon."
"F**k! Anglang! Brother, you think I didn't see what you did just now?!" Furious, Magnus cursed loudly: "That was clearly your doing!"
"Was it? You better think clearly about who did it," Anglang retorted, picking up his hammer again.
"Er... I mean, just after the purification, my head was a bit dizzy, I was a bit out of my mind," Magnus barely managed to open his eyes, swollen to mere slits. His reconstructed body had also restored his blinded eye.
Noticing the blood all over the head of Anglang's hammer, Magnus immediately conceded, chuckling and then wincing at the pain in his face: "Ah! It hurts!"
"It seems you're quite spirited, Magnus," the Emperor approached with cold steps. Looking at Magnus' disfigured face, a slight change appeared in his expression.
Ryan could sense the Emperor almost smiling, seemingly in a good mood.
"Father, the god of the golden throne's rotting corpse? I didn't expect you really had a way," Magnus said, his tone filled with a mix of relief and unwillingness: "To really... bring me back."
"How foolish, Magnus. You are like a clown, always toyed with by fate, never understanding why, never learning from your failures," the Emperor spoke indifferently, looking at the weakened Magnus: "That's why you always fail, your impulsive instincts always leading you to foolishness, being deceived by Tzeentch, ambushing Kiriman on the moon was also a mistake."
"Maybe, Father, I've always been a toy, tossed back and forth between you and Tzeentch, like a ball. I thought I could escape this fate, but it ends with you continuing to play with me," Magnus tried to move his weak body but gave up: "Anyway, I have no other choice. I already told you what I wanted to say on the moon. You'll let your sons kill all of us, Tzeentch's promise to solve our mutation problem ended with Ahriman's red script turning 90% of our warriors to dust."
"No matter what, it's always the wrong answer, always a foolish decision. Now you tell me, Father, why bring me back, why bring me here?" Lying on the slab, Magnus spoke helplessly: "Aren't you worried I'll rebel again? Gather my army to destroy you?"
"Heh, tell me, Magnus, did you really enjoy being Tzeentch's demon prince for these ten thousand years?" the Emperor asked lightly.
"That... was not enjoyable at all. Tzeentch deceived me! I've always lived in a lie!" Remembering his past, Magnus spoke bitterly: "Alright, I guess I won't think about serving Tzeentch again."
"Regardless, Magnus, my brother, welcome back!" Anglang laughed heartily, walking forward to give Magnus a big hug, completely ignoring his screams of pain: "Ah! It hurts so much, don't hug so hard!"
"Damn, Anglang, you're here? The cruel iron fire demon army has been searching for you. They said whoever brings your head can become a demon prince immediately and get a valuable chance to take Kiriman's head," Magnus scratched his red hair, barely sitting up with Anglang's help: "And you ended up back in your original form."
"That's my purpose, Magnus. I want to gather all your brothers," the Emperor said to Magnus: "Fulgrim, Rogal, Perturabo, Mortarion... I will continue my Great Crusade until the galaxy is once again under human rule."
"If so, Father, if that's really what you think, then what does it have to do with me?" Magnus' eyes flickered, recalling the nearly forgotten memory.
The memory of ten thousand years ago.
The past fervor and glory, the brothers, the children, all gone, leaving emptiness.
"Grey Knights' progenitor, I need your help." Just then, the Mechanicum's Archmagos Belisarius Cawl approached Ryan: "About what you mentioned last time..."
"Yes, I told you last time, I want to create Grey Knights," Ryan said gravely.
"Understood, understood. But the production of Grey Knights is very special. The new original casting of Astartes technology has been successfully tested on the Primaris Marines, but whether it will work on Grey Knights still needs experimentation. I need to take some of your blood for research," Cawl said in his emotionless electronic voice.
"Okay!" Ryan nodded, and then a large needle emerged from Cawl's robe, piercing into Ryan's body.
The Archmagos drew over six hundred milliliters of blood before stopping.
At this moment, Magnus finally understood the whole story. The gene-seed progenitor sneered: "Heh, I didn't expect your chancellor left you with a last hope. Yes, you never trusted us, only him."
"That's because you guys are unreliable! A bunch of spoiled children," the Emperor said coldly.
"Er..." Magnus' crimson eyes moved back and forth. Seeing Anglang's happy demeanor, he whispered: "Father, how about I stay here too? Ryan needs a helper, a sorcery helper, and I think I can do it..."
"You want to stay too? No, no, Magnus, I have a more important mission for you, involving the future of humanity! You will become a hero guarding humanity!" The Emperor's expression changed slightly, his face filled with miracles and light as if suppressing something.
"You're going to appoint me as a warlord, Father? Lead your empire's Great Crusade?" Magnus immediately thought of a possibility. The more the gene-seed progenitor thought about it, the more he believed it was true. He thought if his father could recognize his past mistakes and appoint him as a warlord, serving his father again wasn't unacceptable.
"Come with me, and you'll see," the Emperor patted Magnus' shoulder, his expression gentle: "It's definitely a surprise."
"Okay." Lured by the promise painted by his father, Magnus gave up the idea of staying.
Then, the Emperor touched Ryan's head: "I leave this place to you, Ryan, Anglang. I'm taking Magnus back."
"Okay." Ryan, who had six hundred milliliters of blood drawn, looked a bit pale. He and Anglang nodded together.
So, the Emperor, Archmagos Cawl, and the newly restored Red Son Magnus left together. After greeting the Imperial Army and others, Ryan and Anglang stepped out of the cave and walked in the snowy forest.
After a few steps, Anglang suddenly sighed: "Magnus is still so foolish, unbelievably so. He actually thought Father would appoint him as a warlord."
"Hahaha~ It's always good to have dreams, brother," Ryan, hands behind his back, couldn't help but laugh: "In reality, it would never be his turn."
"Yes, Father just wants someone to maintain the Astronomican and sit on the Golden Throne in his stead," Anglang chuckled: "Indeed a surprise, but more shock than joy."
"Hahahaha~" The two gene-seed progenitors laughed heartily in the snow, shaking the accumulated snow off the trees.
"Brother, it looks like we'll have to find a way for your weapon ourselves," Ryan remembered another issue: "To make a weapon like a power axe, we need ceramite, only this top-quality material can make the weapon you want."
"I understand, but where can we find ceramite?" Anglang nodded, showing he understood.
"Ceramite... most of it is controlled by the Dwarfs. Even if there's a small amount on the market, it's hard for us to get it. First, we lack the funds, and second, a small amount of ceramite isn't enough to make a substantial battle axe for you," Ryan frowned, still very concerned about Anglang's matter.
"No rush, brother. In fact, I still haven't recovered from the weakness of resurrection, and it will take at least seven or eight years," Anglang patted Ryan's shoulder understandingly: "Take it slow, take care of your things first, no rush for mine."
"Thanks." Ryan felt quite moved.
"In this world, only we two brothers have each other. We should support each other."
"Right!"
...
In the following days, Ryan focused on governing his territory. Under his rule, Baron Gene's land was filled with business opportunities, attracting many freemen to settle. The workshops by the river began to prosper, with leatherworking and textile workshops starting operations. The presence of the Wood Elf trade post attracted numerous merchants and nobles for trade. Every time the Wood Elves brought goods, they were sold out the next day, allowing them to obtain much-needed materials like amber, ore, wood, and food for winter (Wood Elves generally don't farm).
December arrived, and the footsteps of the Winter Festival approached.
This was Ryan's first Winter Festival in this country.
Before the Winter Festival, Ryan convened all his knights and courtiers for an annual meeting, including his tax collector Gasparton, steward Carstenberg, his four knights Lopes, Hex, Olivier, and Anglang, his vineyard manager Durand, his magic advisor Veronica, and Alfred, the builder of the Church of Justice's chapel.
Unknowingly, he had built his own team.
He had done a lot in this year, developing the territory, attracting investment, participating in the Knights' War, rising to fame in the country. Many minstrels sang his poems. In less than a year of entering the Knight Kingdom, he earned a second-class Iris Flower medal and was promoted to Grandmaster of the Holy Grail Knights.
Many dukes showed goodwill towards him, but many also harbored great malice, like Duke Berleon, who saw Ryan's absorption of a large number of his freemen as a provocation, and Duke Paravion, who was envious of Ryan's trade with the Wood Elves.
"In the coming year, I plan to recuperate, consolidate our current territorial foundation, ensure security, and develop our military and commerce," Ryan said at the annual meeting: "Currently, the foundation of Gene's territory is not stable, with many conflicts between locals and newcomers, so I don't plan to wage war in the short term."
Hearing Ryan's plan, the knights were somewhat disappointed, as war was the best way to advance. However, his tax collector and steward were pleased, as this was what they wanted.
After the meeting, Ryan called his blonde, blue-eyed childhood friend: "Alf? Spend the Winter Festival in my castle!"
"Ah! Yes, my good friend. This year in your territory, if you weren't waging war, I was busy, so we didn't have much chance to meet. No problem, I'll definitely come," Alfred agreed, still optimistic.
"Great!" Ryan nodded, but then Steward Carstenberg returned: "My Baron?"
"What is it, Carstenberg?"
"Princess Morgiana has arrived."
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