After reaching an agreement with Ferrus Manus to jointly develop the relic sites, Nareth returned to the ancient ruins and found Gabriel.
"I've decided to assign you to lead part of the tech-marines, remain here on Medusa, and afterward follow the 10th Legion in their campaigns.
They have much that is worth learning."
"At your command, Father," Gabriel replied.
Three hours later, a transport ship from the Throne of Shadow's Sovereignity delivered Nareth's old armor, the one he once wore but had preserved as a keepsake in his private armory.
Though the suit forged by Wojciech Bielek could not compare to the craftsmanship of a master like Malevolus, it was still serviceable for temporary use.
Nareth then drew the golden living metal of his armor, infused with the essence of a C'tan , back into his wings, letting them remain free.
Gabriel, using his servo-arms, carefully adjusted the old armor to allow the wings full movement.
Nareth next headed to the site where Manus was holding his clan-convocation, a celebration announcing to the Medusans their return to the Imperium and their oath of fealty to the Emperor.
He did not fly at full speed; instead, folding his wings, he boarded a Stormbird with Gabriel and Arsena.
As the gunship approached the site, Gabriel gazed down at the endless caravans of massive steel crawlers.
"The smallest of Medusa's crawlers are over a hundred meters long. Families, machines, and daily necessities are all carried within them."
"They are a nomadic people, riding their steel beasts."
The "Savant" gazed down with his deep blue eyes.
"Medusa's skies are locked in perpetual darkness due to pollution. The planet's geology is violently unstable, earthquakes and volcanic eruptions constantly reshaping mountains and seas."
"This world reminds me of Fenris. Without doubt, under the Imperial Administration's classifications, Medusa IV qualifies as a Death World."
The Nareth's silver-haired aide frowned with curiosity.
"What I don't understand is this: Lord Manus is revered as the Gorgon, a demigod among the clans. He could easily end their wars and unify this world under a single rule, yet he chooses not to. That is unlike any of the other primarchs."
Nareth explained:
"This is Manus's philosophy. He believes limited competition benefits the whole."
"It is a calculated outcome, and those who die in the process are sacrifices he deems acceptable."
"Most of the time, his decisions, cold as they seem, are the best for the greater good."
It was Manus who reforged the Stormwalkers into the Iron Hands. Under his iron grip, the usual Terra-born versus native-born strife that plagued other Legions was burned away.
This was not unlike Nareth's own reforms on Luna, where Advocates and "Arbiters" shaped recruits from the very start of training. Different methods, but the same goal, molding Terran-born into the culture of the Legion's homeworld.
The result was the same: only a rare few clung to their past, yet even they were loyal to their Legion and primarch.
"Beneath Manus's cold exterior burns a hidden fire."
"Gabriel, in the 10th Legion you'll see how he treats his sons with stern harshness, yet always protects them without hesitation."
"So when you work among them, remember: show respect, and learn their secrets of machine and calculation."
"Yes, Father," Gabriel answered, committing the words to memory.
The Stormbird descended, and Nareth approached Manus's colossal crawler.
"Welcome, Lord Nareth," greeted Santor respectfully, speaking in newly-learned High Gothic.
Nareth returned the smile, then entered.
Steam hissed, and a wave of dry heat swept over him as the gates of the Iron Forge opened.
Inside, a great relief stretched across the wall: a smith's hammer striking an anvil, cracks spreading into veins of silver.
To one side stood depictions of Medusa's myth-beasts, the golden Garuda among them.
Santor guided him onward to a grand door of diorite, marble, and steel. Guards saluted and opened it.
Within the vast steel hall, Manus stood before his personal banner, a velvet and silver tapestry depicting him striking down the great silver wyrm Asirnoth.
The Imperial Aquila hung at the center, with Alpharius standing beside it, and the Emperor enthroned before it.
To the left, Nareth saw another banner: velvet and gold depicting his own slaying of the golden Garuda.
The work was lifelike, unmistakably crafted by Manus himself, the only one whose silver eyes could pierce the Burning One's flames.
Manus turned his coin-bright gaze upon Nareth. In a single instant, those silver eyes liquefied, scanning and recording Nareth's body to memory, for the forging of new armor.
Nareth ascended the dais and stood by his banner.
There too were Azhek Ahriman, his brother Ormuzd Ahriman, and their companion Apophis, representing the 15th Legion.
Looking down on the clan chiefs, Manus's voice rolled like lead.
"Warriors of Medusa's clans, today we gather to mark a new age."
"My Father, Master of Mankind, has descended from the long night."
"I, Ferrus Manus, in the name of the Iron Hand, swear before forge and flame, eternal service to the Emperor!"
The clans, led by Santor, fell to their knees.
"We follow the Gorgon! Eternal service to the Emperor! Forge and flame witness our oath!"
The Emperor, smiling, answered:
"I accept your fealty. Rise."
At the feast that followed, Manus turned to Nareth.
"The banner I made for you, to record your slaying of the golden Garuda."
Nareth was unsurprised. Cold though Manus seemed, his heart burned hot. He had gifted many weapons and works to his brothers, not only to his favored Fulgrim.
"Manus, it is a masterpiece. I'll hang it in the highest place of my palace."
He signaled Gabriel forward.
"My son, Gabriel. Only my Forge Lord, Rosicky, surpasses him in craft."
Gabriel stepped forth and bowed deeply.
"Gorgon of Medusa, Gabriel greets you."
Manus studied the youth, noting the servo-arms, the chainblades, the artisan's tools, all finely wrought, no less skillful than his own Iron Fathers'.
"Gabriel, you are a masterful craftsman. You will be welcome in my Legion."
Ten days after the celebration, the 10th Legion fleet arrived at Medusa.
Nareth returned with the Emperor aboard the Bucephalus.
The Emperor's flagship held a grand ceremony to welcome yet another primarch.
Scribes, lacking permission to ride through Medusa's deadly rings, now stood among the crowd, recording every moment:
"822.M30. The Emperor, accompanied by Primarch Nareth, has found the Tenth Primarch..."
"On Medusa IV, the Monarch of Vostroya and his sons on behalf of the Emperor contested in the excavation of relics with the Gorgon and his brother."
"Both unearthed treasures of equal worth, and by the Emperor's word, they join hands in cooperation..."
Together, Nareth and the Emperor stood on the upper gallery overlooking the banquet hall.
Below, the Medusans sat in precise order, so unlike the raucous, laughing Wolves of Fenris.
The Emperor's eyes gleamed.
"Amadeus DuCaine has come. He forged the 'Storm and Hammer' doctrine. I believe it will become a cornerstone of Imperial warcraft."
Nareth looked down, seeing DuCaine for the first time, the man remembered as the first beneath the primarchs in the early Great Crusade.
He wore thick Mark I "Thunder" armor, inscribed with canticles of war.
Platinum etchings adorned his tall helm, including the Eye of Horus, a mark of pride.
Nareth knew DuCaine, born of Terran Arabia, veteran of a thousand battles. At the Rustworld Campaign he had devised the famous Storm and Hammer tactic.
He held his Stormwalkers back, personally leading auxilia to draw the Orks into a tide against an unyielding anvil.
Only when the greenskin horde poured from their fortress, fully spread and scattered, did he unleash his Legion as the hammer.
With minimal losses, the 10th shattered the Orks and then swept on to aid other fronts, earning the respect of many Legions. The 4th and 13th even adopted his methods.
Afterward, the Emperor himself led the 10th. Horus in particular admired DuCaine, gifting him the Eye of Horus, and even assigning Ezekyle Abaddon as his temporary aide to learn from him.
Nareth reflected:
'Storm and Hammer seems simple, yet it is an intricate, precise system. It became the foundation of the Iron Hands' future doctrine, further refined by Manus himself.'
'DuCaine was made Praetor, equal in rank to clan-commander Santor, the highest officers beneath Manus.'
'The Reapers once scorned such tactics, but perhaps now I can propose joint operations with the 10th.'
As he pondered, DuCaine and Manus locked eyes for ten seconds, then both knelt before the Emperor.
The Emperor nodded in satisfaction.
"Come with me. It is time I learn of the string of triumphs you achieved upon the Wheel of Fire."
.....
If you enjoy the story, my p@treon is 30 chapters ahead.
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