Without cultists and traitors or enemies, in general, to slow down my approach, I reached the territory of the City of Halfor after a mere hundred or so hours of constant running. Halfor, unlike Kuresh, was not a monstrous mega-city that stretched on for what seemed like thousands of kilometers in any single direction, with structures high enough to breach the sky, and underground chambers and labyrinthine tunnels and sewers that reached hundreds of kilometers deep. No, Halfor was a humble place. It wasn't small by any means, but nothing like Kuresh. In fact, as I looked on from the perch I'd taken atop a nearby mountain, Halfor was dwarfed by the thousands of kilometers' worth of refugee camps and medical tents, stretching out as far as even my enhanced eyes could see, nearly beyond the horizon, the scent of blood and death, disease and decay, carried by the wind.

Athulhum's blessing hadn't reached this far, I figured, seeing as it did not contain the lush greenery that indicated the spirit's presence and power. Instead, Halfor was built on a cold and rugged land – not barren, but certainly far from healthy or fertile.

Situated both to the north and to the south of the refugee camps and medical tents were the Imperial Guard Camps, Chaelus and Varon, each one hosting the remnants of the Planetary Guard; the latter, by my initial and, admittedly, light reconnaissance, bore the brunt of the infantry, the ones who were lucky enough to not be a part of the planetary war and those who were unlucky enough to have survived, after witnessing the deaths of everyone they held dear and knew. The former, Camp Chaelus, was mostly just artillery and armored crews; I wondered, briefly, if Olly and the others were there, but I didn't cling to that particular hope. Both camps were present, I figured, in the unlikely possibility that a bunch of heretic and traitor stragglers might launch some sort of suicidal attack against the refugees and the injured soldiers and civilians. And there were no walls or trenches to defend them.

Both the eastern and western portions of Halfor's immediate territory were thousands and thousands of kilometers of open land, and a few tall mountains here and there. If an army did approach from either direction, they'd be bombarded by artillery far before they could be of any threat. The northern and southern reaches, meanwhile, were mostly mountain ranges and crags and steep cliffs, with plenty of hidden marches and narrow passages, where a small army might just be able to crawl their way through, hence the camps.

I didn't think there was much to worry about, however, as the God-Emperor's presence, alongside Athulhum's blessing, the rampage of the Carcharodons, and, of course, the counterattack of the Planetary Guard meant there were very few traitorous and heretical war bands still existing.

So, I made my way down the mountain side, sprinting; doing so broke my shin and femur bones every few seconds, but fixing myself back to optimal functionality took me only a moment. I reached the bottom quickly enough. And from there, I made my way to the long line of refugees and injured soldiers who were making their way into the site. The lack of walls, I found, fortunately did not destroy any lingering sense of discipline my brothers and sisters might've possessed. Of course, there were a few exceptions, citizens who chose not to follow the right order of things and choosing, instead, to just walk right into camp.

There were four zones and three of them were medical in nature. The first zone belonged to refugees and, compared to the injured and the sick and dying, they were relatively few. The second, third, and fourth zones were meant to accommodate the injured and their varying degrees of injuries, ranging from somewhat minor to those who required the God-Emperor's peace to end their suffering.

The lines, however, were admittedly very long, divided into ten columns, each one comprised of hundreds of thousands of people. And no one batted an eye or asked questions when I walked right up to one of the lines and just stood there, though I quickly grew bored out of my mind as the hours ticked by. Surrounded as I was by strangers – brothers and sisters in the God Emperor though they were – I wasn't exactly fond of people I hardly knew; even in the Guard, I didn't really have anyone I could call a close friend. Frowning, I realized that... I really didn't take the time to truly bond and connect with any of them. We were brothers and sisters in arms, but... no more than that. What a waste.

Around me were men and women and children, ragged and tired, likely even hungry and sick. Beside me, a child fell to the soil, blood pouring from his mouth. His eyes were wide with shock and fear as he wiped the red from his lips and stared. He couldn't have been older than nine or ten. Thin and pale. The child hadn't eaten in days, I figured. And his parents, if he still had them, seemed nowhere in sight. I walked towards and child and knelt in front of him.

"Disease!" Someone screamed. And, just like that, the crowd began to panic, dispersing away from the poor child, as though they themselves were purer or cleaner. They screamed and brought disarray upon themselves, nearly breaking the integrity of the columns – at least, the part that was closest to the child. The scene, admittedly, brought forth some measure of anger within me – not a whole lot, but enough of it for me to feel mildly annoyed at my fellow humans, even if the very thought of using violence against my brothers and sisters was heretical.

"Silence!" I roared and the crowd calmed, and they turned to look at me, while I knelt on the ground in front of the child. That said, I didn't think my command was what stole their attention. Instead, I figured, what caused their immediate silence was the uniform I wore, that of a Guardsman, a defender of the people, a symbol of order. That was good. It meant they still recognized the authority of the God-Emperor. "This child is not sick."

"May I help heal you, child?" I asked. And, I figured I'd keep asking that question every single time I was going to fix someone. The human form was perfect as it was, but that did not mean it was invincible or invulnerable. And every single human being held an inalienable right to maintain themselves as they saw fit, without my intervention; if someone, for instance, wanted to die from some kind of disease that I could easily fix, then who was I to tell them otherwise?

Fortunately, the child nodded, however softly and weakly.

I reached out and grasped the child by... his... no... her head and, immediately, I knew every single thing that was wrong with her body, everything that was gradually killing her – the scars she'd received at the moment of her birth, the bones that'd once been broken long ago and healed incorrectly, the failing organs, the infection by hundreds of types of bacterium and viruses, a number of cancerous growths and masses, and, of course, the effects of malnutrition. With my power, [Flesh Shaping], mending all of that was as easy as blinking.

And, so I did. By the God-Emperor's grace, I did. The child's small stature meant I barely had to expend any amount of [Biomass] to fix everything that was wrong with her. I straightened her bones, fixed her organs, got rid of her cancers and tumors, annihilated the legions of bacterium and viruses in her bloodstream, and flooded her body with nutrients. Within the span of a single moment, the dying child was suddenly healthy; her skin took in a more vibrant hue, the paleness receding immediately. And she breathed in, deeply and clearly, the stream of blood gone from her lips. Her eyes widened. And her gaze was... fervent.

Briefly, I considered altering her DNA so that she'd never be sick again, but I soon tossed away the thought. Doing so, without asking permission, was heretical and, frankly, criminal.

"Do you feel better, child?" It was a pointless question, but one I felt I needed to ask, regardless as I laid a hand on her shoulder. I wanted to reassure her as much as I could, to ensure that she'd never lose faith. I was merely doing the God-Emperor's work, after all.

She nodded again. Whispers and awed voices echoed all around us, but I tuned them all out. They approached us, but a sharp look from me kept them in place. I was going to try and heal everyone I could, but I had no interest in being swarmed by others, hoping for their share before anyone else. The sudden surge of life about her came withsomething else, a small, but powerful presence within her, I noted – within her soul. Interesting. "Y-y-yes... t-thank you... sir."

I smiled and ruffled her hair... or what little of it was on her scalp. "The name's Perry, little girl. And I'm just a humble guardsman. What is your name?"

I held her hand and guided her back to her feet, and we stood up together. She was tall enough to reach my waist. Cute kid. I ruffled her head again. "Katarinya, my lord... Katarinya Greyfax."

"Well met, Katarinya," I said. "Now, where are your parents?"

The child glanced around, her eyes sad and narrow, but Katarinya shed no tears. Despite the people that clouded her sight, her gaze seemed almost distant – as though she saw nothing and no one else there. For all her sadness, her face remained steely. "I... don't know. There was... a fire and... they told me to run. So, I kept running and running, until I... fell asleep... somewhere. A pale giant saved me and carried me to safety – I think."

Ah, her parents were dead. That was a damn shame. I smiled down at her and pinched both of her cheeks. "Worry not, child. If they held true to the God-Emperor, then I am sure they now live on by his side in paradise. For whosoever accepts the Master of Mankind into their hearts shall walk with him, eternal, after death."

Katarinya's eyes lit up as she nodded. "Stay close to me, child. I'll take care of you."

At least, until I could find a good place to take her to and leave her in. The spark of power within her soul told me that sending her off to be another Guardsman would be a waste of her talents. Katarinya would better serve the Imperium of Mankind as a Sister of Battle or, if circumstances permitted it, an Inquisitor. But, if this child was to ever fulfill the God-Emperor's plan for her, then she'd first need to survive. Katarinya nodded and took a step towards me. Just then, the crowd gathered around us and dozens of injured men and women stepped forth, many of them my brothers and sisters of the Imperial Guard; their eyes were skeptical, but therein lay a glimmer of hope.

"They say you're a healer." One of them said, a man who'd lost half of his face to some sort of incendiary attack, alongside his right arm, the stump of which was bleeding through the poorly-done bandage.

I nodded. Tears welled from the corner of my eyes as I looked upon the injured faces and bodies of my comrades in arms, fellow servants of the God-Emperor. Still, there was no time for such things and this definitely wasn't the place for it, either. "I am. And, by the God-Emperor of Mankind, I will do all that I can do to help all of you."

They didn't believe me, but they would. Not everyone witnessed Katarinya's healing and it wasn't as though I had to restore any of her limbs. Breathing in, I reached into my pocket, which I did to reach into my [Inventory], without anyone noticing; there, I took the gift I'd received from Athulhum, something I didn't ask for, but was granted to me most graciously by the spirit, [Elesscor], a ring that enhances all manner of external regeneration and healing; in practical terms, if I was using my power to restore someone else, then the [Biomass] cost was halved.

Stepping forward, I held out my left hand to the man before me. He stared at me skeptically. "May I heal you?"