When Gamma's subordinate met Archbishop Difan again, the Archbishop did not continue to press him about Gamma, which was somewhat unexpected.
Not long ago, he was almost so excited that he fainted. To be able to hold back from asking, his temperament was truly remarkable. The official admitted that he could not be like Archbishop Difan.
The second half of the meeting revolved around the purpose for which Gamma sent them: to make Sanctuary World self-sufficient.
Although there was some dissatisfaction with the fact that fully automated factories had to use AI, even the most cynical person had to admit that Gamma was very generous to them. Once the factories were built, Sanctuary World would immediately be able to enjoy meals with meat and wine every day.
"Truly incredible technology," the Archbishop exclaimed.
"Yes, we thought so too at first, but His Highness Gamma said that humans in the 2K era could produce food from the air. The tragedy is not that we forgot the technology, but that we forgot that all our efforts, all our sacrifices, all our endurance, and all our suffering were for the purpose of making life better, richer, and more interesting."
After hearing the official's words, the Archbishop suddenly asked, "Do you think humanity is worth saving?"
The young official had never considered this question. He opened his mouth to ask why the other party would ask such a question, but as the words came to his lips, he recalled the various tragedies he had witnessed in the past, the selfishness, the self-degradation—.
The Archbishop continued, "When I was a young man, I mechanically followed the Emperor's teachings to love everyone. At that time, I was just a young acolyte in a remote chapel in the Underhive, responsible for transcribing books. Although I could do very little, I tried my best to save a portion of my meager living allowance by scrimping and saving, and gave it to those in tattered clothes. Each time I received their thanks, it made me feel very satisfied.
I believed I was doing something very, very remarkable."
"But at the time, what I said was, 'It's just a little bit,' 'It's nothing,' 'It's all the Emperor's guidance,' hahaha."
The young man was somewhat confused as to why the elderly Archbishop suddenly began to tell his own story, but he didn't mind spending some time listening to the story of this amiable old man, who was both powerful and wise.
"The environment in the Underhive was harsh, heresy was rampant, and people were both ignorant and cunning. There were very few devout believers. I was proud that I could get a group of people to come to the church once a week, until one time, for some reason I can't remember—it seemed to be because a celebration caused that month's supplies not to be distributed on time—those wanderers didn't come to the church for a whole month."
"This left me in a state of confusion. If the faith I cherished as life itself was merely a meal in their eyes, then were they worth my love?"
"Burying this doubt in my heart, I became a priest and moved to the Midhive. This allowed me to see more and understand more.
But I still wondered, were the cunning merchants, the merciless gangsters, my colleagues who squandered the offerings of believers, and the extravagantly luxurious nobles truly worthy of love?"
"Later, to find the answer to the doubts in my heart, I boarded a merchant ship and began to travel through the galaxy. But the more I knew, the more I saw, the more I doubted. I couldn't understand why His Majesty loved humanity so much. What exactly was there about humanity that was worth loving?"
"Gulp, Archbishop, you—" The young man was a little nervous. He suspected that the other party had been influenced by those evil entities.
Unexpectedly, Difan saw the nervous official and burst out laughing: "Don't worry, they cannot break my will yet."
"Later, I met an old priest who, like me, was wandering in the galaxy. I asked him if he was also looking for answers, and guess how he answered me?"
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"How did he answer?" the young official, engrossed in the story, asked subconsciously.
"He said that what he was doing was the answer. He said that His Majesty loves humanity, and he loves His Majesty, so he also loves humanity. He wasn't wandering to find anything, but rather to let more people know that His Majesty loves, to receive His Majesty's love, and to guide more people not to betray this love and grace."
"Then I understood. The essence of faith is dedication, it is reciprocation. I am His priest; what I should do is to make more people understand His Majesty's love for humanity, and to let more people know how to repay His Majesty's love."
"And even more so, to let His Majesty know that His love is not for an unworthy race!"
"So, young man, His Highness Gamma saved you and gave you everything. Have you ever thought about how to repay him?"
The Tech-priest, after hearing all this, had a conflicted expression and gradually moved away from his subordinate, inching back with his butt. He seriously suspected that the official in front of him had been corrupted by an old pervert who liked young boys. What was all this talk about love? Even if the author of the article were brought here, he wouldn't be able to answer this question. Over-interpretation kills!
"What does this have to do with them joining the expedition?" the Tech-priest asked, adopting a defensive posture.
"It is like this, Your Highness. Their purpose should be to use this to break free from their isolated state and integrate into our system to achieve certain ulterior motives," the official calmly analyzed the Adeptus Ministorum's intentions.
"Because they are powerless to resist you, they want to inspire our gratitude towards you, prompting us to take actions to repay you. The most direct option is to call on more people to join your expedition, which will inevitably require the cooperation of the Adeptus Ministorum in various regions. The best cooperative partner for the Adeptus Ministorum is undoubtedly the high-ranking officials of Sanctuary World."
Seeing that his subordinate could still speak logically, clearly, and analyze the Adeptus Ministorum's little scheme, the Tech-priest relaxed, lowered his hand, and asked:
"Since you understand all this, why do you say that what the Archbishop said makes some sense?"
"Your subordinate believes that the other party's words make some sense because Your Highness has protected us too well. Even with AI-assisted supervision, after one or two generations, the common people's sense of crisis will inevitably decline. The galaxy is full of dangers, and living in a false peace is destined to end in tragedy," the official explained.
"So what do you mean?" Gamma was a little confused about what he wanted to do.
"Your subordinate suggests forming a Mortal Auxiliary Army, allowing unaugmented ordinary people to join Your Highness's expedition!"
"This—"
Gamma understood the reasoning and knew he was right, but forcing the Tech-priest to throw ordinary people into a hellish battlefield was something he couldn't bring himself to do. Moreover, in terms of resource utilization, Iron Men were much more efficient; they didn't require logistics, didn't need to consider the environment, didn't need to consider combat morale, and didn't even need Gamma to give them orders—they would eagerly go looking for a fight themselves.
"Your Highness, among those not chosen to become Gamma Warriors, there are also many who wish to do their part!" the human official pleaded again.
"Let me think about it—"
"Your subordinate will take his leave now."
After his subordinate left, the Tech-priest scratched his head helplessly, sighed, and muttered to himself, "What should I do?"
Troubled by this question and having not slept well for several days, Gamma decided it was best to ask the opinion of professionals. So, he braced himself and sought out Calgar and Ventris, who were full of resentment.
"Give me some advice. The next time we encounter the Word Bearers, I'll definitely send you two in first!"
"Heh, I wouldn't dare, wouldn't dare. Even Great Daemons are like toys in your hands. Our meager strength—"
"Stop it, Ventris, why are you always so sarcastic!"
"Heh."
Calgar, as the Chapter Master of the Ultramarines and the supreme commander of the Great Crusade 1.5, had a much greater capacity for patience than the "worthless" junior captain. After hearing Gamma's words, he retorted:
"Gamma, what is your definition of an Gamma Warrior?"
"Soldiers, of course. Otherwise, why would I give them such superhuman physiques?" Gamma replied.
This answer clearly did not satisfy Calgar, who then asked, "What kind of soldiers?"
This time, Gamma understood Calgar's meaning. He was asking whether Gamma Warriors were ordinary soldiers or special units like the Astartes.
"I haven't thought about that question," Gamma answered honestly.
"You need to think clearly before we can offer you advice."
The Tech-priest did not get the answer he wanted from the Ultramarines, and instead gained another headache. If Gamma Warriors were ordinary soldiers, it would mean that Gamma Warriors would integrate into the lives of ordinary people, but unaugmented mortals could not compete with them in terms of physical function and lifespan.
Gamma Warriors were destined to occupy the ruling class within the Tech-priest's faction, to be superior to mortals, which was something Gamma did not want to see.
However, if Gamma Warriors were positioned as special units like the Astartes, given special positions but not the right to govern mortals, then forming a Mortal Auxiliary Army would be inevitable. Only through the forging of iron and fire could humanity grow!
"Did you hear?"
"Hear what?" Mickey asked, puzzled.
After giving his friend a punch, Carson grumbled, "What have you been busy with all day? You don't even know about something as big as the Near Sea Defense Force!"
Mickey, speechless, returned two punches, but still felt unsatisfied. After adding a kick, he roared, "I think you're just looking for trouble! Do we need to 'hear' about this? The announcement has already been delivered to each of us!"
Carson, grinning carelessly, patted the footprint on his calf, then nudged Mickey with his shoulder and asked, "Are you going to sign up?"
Looking enviously at his strong, thick-skinned companion, Mickey felt the world was so unfair. They used to be skin and bones, so why did this idiot Carson manage to eat himself into a body full of muscle in less than a year, while he, despite eating desperately, only achieved a normal build?
Seeing no response, the strong youth crossed his arms over his chest and, with a disdainful look and tone, said, "What's wrong? A few days of full meals made you a coward? Where's the Mickey who dared to steal food from gangsters?"
"Get lost! I'm not a coward! I'm thinking about which branch of service to sign up for!"
"Huh? There's a difference!"
"Isn't it all written in the announcement?"
"Too many words, and it's written in a roundabout way. I only understood the biggest words on it," Carson said, scratching his bristly short hair, looking foolish.
Mickey suddenly didn't envy Carson's strong physique so much. He realized the world was still fair. If a strong body came at the cost of brains, he would still choose brains. Out of friendship, the smart Mickey began to consider whether to advise Carson not to join the Near Sea Defense Force selection. With his intelligence, a few words of persuasion would send him to the front lines as cannon fodder and a suicide squad. But then he remembered the one who turned hell into heaven, and abandoned the idea. He didn't believe Gamma would do such a thing.
"Tell me about it," Carson said, with no hint of asking for a favor.
"Sigh, fine. Go buy me two cans of cola to wet my throat," Mickey said, covering his forehead.
"Alright!"
Soon, he saw Carson trotting back with four cans of cola. The thought of persuading Carson to give up surged again. What else could someone who couldn't even count do besides being in a suicide squad?
Then his idea changed again, because Carson only gave him one can, keeping the other three for himself, all with the tabs pulled.
"Gulp—Ah, refreshing!" Carson exclaimed, chugging two cans of cola. He then took a sip from the last can and said, "Phew, so sweet! Mickey, why aren't you drinking? If you don't want it, give it to me, I can still—"
"Get away!"
Slapping away the hand reaching for him, Mickey rolled his eyes and sat on the roadside steps. Carson followed, plunking down next to Mickey, putting an arm around his shoulder, and saying,
"Quick, tell me!"
Mickey struggled but couldn't free himself from the tight arm, so he gave up. He reluctantly raised his auxiliary wristband, projecting the Near Sea Defense Force conscription announcement, and explained each point to the idiot beside him.
"First, this is for volunteers, unlike the old days when noble lords and warlords conscripted men."
"I know that—"
"Are you listening? If you want to listen, shut up!"
"Oh." Carson made a zipping motion over his mouth.
"Secondly, future officials will be preferentially selected from those with service experience."
"Hehehe, doesn't that mean I can also become a noble official later? Then I can take whatever I want from whomever I want."
Mickey looked at his excited companion strangely. Carson, realizing the silence in his fantasy, saw Mickey's expression and followed his gaze to the metal wrist guard on his own wrist. He instinctively shivered and quickly said,
"I'm just kidding, I'm an enemy of evil!"
"Heh, stop talking nonsense and listen carefully!"
"Mmm-hmm-hmm." Carson nodded vigorously. "Then there's the division of major branches: Army, Navy, Air Force, and the Near Sea Fleet."
"Army, Navy, Air Force I understand, but what's the Near Sea Fleet?" Carson asked, puzzled.
"The elite screened from the three major branches, equipped with the best gear, to conquer the star sea for Gamma!"
"I want to sign up for that one!" Carson shouted.
"..." Mickey fell silent. The thought of persuading Carson not to enlist surged again. Not understanding words was not much better than not being able to count.
In Gamma's plan, the Army, Navy, and Air Force were positioned similarly to planetary defense forces, responsible for defensive work within their star system. The Near Sea Fleet was positioned like a combination of the Astra Militarum and the Imperial Navy, but unlike the Imperial Navy, the Near Sea Fleet's scope was not as vast, unless Gamma's expedition required them.
While the conscription efforts were in full swing, Gamma's laboratory echoed with the relieved, yet smug laughter of the Tech-priest.
"Hahahahaha, Archmagos, I've done it!"
The little Tech-priest, bouncing around, patted the casing of the giant spirit bone gravity engine prototype in front of him, while performing a strange, hip-swaying, butt-wiggling dance like a shaman.
"It wasn't easy! I didn't expect this Archmagos to experience the feeling of being rushed by 'the client' again. It was truly difficult."
After speaking, he gave the spirit bone engine a kick and, without looking back, went to find the Eldar Miss. To complete the development of the gravity engine before the Near Sea Fleet was established, Gamma had been cooped up in his laboratory for quite some time. For a pleasure-seeking tyrant who believed in hedonism, this was a painful ordeal. Now he was finally free.
While the conscription plan was still being discussed in detail, Gamma's territory, centered on the reclaimed star systems, was divided into a dozen administrative districts within a 20-light-year radius. The future duty of the Near Sea Fleet would be to bring all human worlds within this range under Gamma's dominion, while also defending against potential enemies.
It was precisely for this reason that a new faster-than-light engine became an urgent matter, something that had to be completed before the Near Sea Fleet was formed. Thus, the Tech-priest had to abandon all his hobbies and leisure activities, dedicating himself entirely to the research and development of the new engine.
The problems of the gravity engine's excessive size and slow speed had remained unresolved, fundamentally due to substandard material performance and strength.
As the final deadline drew nearer, the Tech-priest, who had started losing hair from worry, had to admit one thing: technological progress became exponentially harder at higher levels. Trying to leap over this threshold with one leg would take decades of practice. So, he decided to leap with two legs—if physical technology wasn't enough, then psychic technology would assist!
And so, the spirit bone gravity engine prototype came into being. According to Gamma's calculations, the spirit bone engine's speed could reach half that of an Imperial Warp engine, and its size was reduced enough to fit into small ships, which was perfectly sufficient.
Now, after a few tests to ensure that the integration of psychic technology wouldn't cause ships to plunge headfirst into the Warp, it could be mass-produced.
"Your Highness, Yvraine is looking for you."
The Tech-priest unhappily lifted his head from the Eldar Miss's soft, fragrant lap and asked impatiently, "I just got out, and she's already bothering me. How annoying. Let her come in."
Then he changed his position and lay back down, amusing the nearby maidservants who giggled behind their hands, while not forgetting to pick up a translucent fruit and feed it to the Tech-priest.
When the Harbinger of Death saw Gamma, surrounded by maidservants, being fed and massaged, sprawled out like a puddle, her face twisted with anger.
"Can't you act like a leader!"
"None of your business," the Tech-priest retorted grumpily.
"I'm too lazy to bother with you. Do you still want the spirit bone?"
"What spirit bone?"
Gamma, whose mind was currently filled with "Come on, let's be happy, we have plenty of time anyway," couldn't remember what he had asked Yvraine for.
This made Yvraine even angrier. She impatiently said, "Didn't you ask for a method to cultivate spirit bone materials that can resist the dangers of the Warp? If you don't want it anymore, I'll leave now!"
The 'toll' made the Tech-priest's intelligence regain the high ground. He quickly got up and said, "You should have said so earlier! Quickly, bring a chair for the Harbinger of Death."
"No need. Just look at the price. If you can accept it, pay quickly!"
The other party didn't appreciate it, but Gamma said nothing. Don't look at her being so "arrogant" now; in the future, the Tech-priest would find a way to make her "smile apologetically."
Picking up the spirit bone panel Yvraine had thrown on the table, Gamma carefully studied the information. From the performance displayed in the data, this spirit bone material not only had high resistance to Warp energy but also possessed physical strength comparable to high-grade adamantium, and could absorb free Warp energy to convert into a psychic shield.
The Tech-priest nodded repeatedly in his heart, but on the surface, he disdainfully said, "How many Bonesingers can achieve such a complex cultivation process? How did you trick them into bringing out this ancient relic?"
Yvraine's expectations plummeted upon hearing this. Gamma was right; this spirit bone cultivation method was a product of the Eldar Empire era, found on a lost ancient world. The discoverer was none other than a member of Yvraine's Death Guard.
But Yvraine wouldn't let go of the chance to fleece Gamma so easily, so she retorted, "You said you wanted the best! Do you know how much effort I put in to get them to reveal their ancient secret method, which they never show to outsiders?"
"What 'never show to outsiders'? I think they can't make it themselves, and even if they could, the price would be too high to sell."
"Stop talking so much, do you want it or not?"
Gamma feigned indifference, put down the documents in his hand, and resumed his previous lazy state, saying, "Yes, I can't let you work for nothing. What's the price?"
The Harbinger of Death said nothing, only produced another list and handed it to the Tech-priest. Gamma took the list, scanned only the first page, and then looked at Yvraine incredulously, asking,
"How many times did you mark up the price for me?"
"None! This is their quoted price. I didn't mark it up even once!" Yvraine said, feigning anger. She wasn't lying; the item was hers, and whatever price she set was the "factory price."
"Who are you kidding? These supplies are enough to arm everyone on Ulthwé Craftworld!"
Gamma didn't believe her at all. He looked at Yvraine with a pained expression, saying in a tone of regret and admonishment, "You are an Eldar, a noble Eldar, the eldest child of the Old Ones. How can you learn from that greedy, hairy ape, Guilliman? Don't let 'money' corrupt your character!"
Yvraine's expression stiffened, as if a raw nerve had been hit. She snapped, "What does Guilliman have to do with this! If you spread rumors about him and me, watch out, we'll both deal with you."
The Tech-priest didn't care about the other party's danger, he pouted and retorted, "Heh, you even have to team up to hit someone, and you say there's no relationship."
"You!"
"Alright, the pure remain pure. I was just joking. Is it really that big of a deal? Unless there really is something between you two."
Speechless by Gamma, Yvraine could only glare fiercely at the Tech-priest, but his skin was too thick to penetrate. After a moment of stalemate, Gamma spoke, "This price is unacceptable to me. I'm just doing research; I can't let this affect the operation of my forces. How about you ask them to sell me some physical goods? I'll pay you the intermediary fee separately."
It wasn't that Gamma was being "dishonorable"; it was simply that the other party's asking price was too outrageous. In that case, he couldn't be blamed for using other means to acquire it.
To his surprise, Yvraine flatly refused, "No!"
"You haven't even asked them, how do you know there's no? I'm not asking for their formula. What kind of business turns away a customer?"
Because the Death Guard's Bonesingers couldn't make it, Yvraine thought, embarrassed.
The Harbinger of Death, who narrowly escaped due to her subordinates' incompetence, hesitated for a moment before saying, "They don't necessarily need so many supplies. Weapons and equipment would also work."
This made Gamma look at Yvraine with a bit of suspicion. He felt there was something he didn't know. When did the Eldar start coveting other races' weapons?
Noticing the change in Gamma's gaze, Yvraine's heart skipped a beat. She realized she had underestimated the Tech-priest's cunning, so she quickly tried to backtrack on her previous statement:
"Ulthwé Craftworld's reputation among the Eldar is very great now. Countless people are watching your every move, and the performance of your Path Warriors is, of course, a key focus for them. The equipment you use naturally catches their eye."
"Oh."
So, Gamma's arms supermarket business could expand to the Eldar! The Tech-priest, whose mind was again consumed by thoughts of money, was swayed by Yvraine. It just goes to show that those most eager to get rich are often the easiest to deceive.
But even if it was exchanged for military equipment, it was still not a small sum, especially since the Defense Force and Near Sea Fleet were currently being formed. Where would the production capacity come from to produce the equipment the Eldar wanted? Just as Gamma was torn, a sudden flash of inspiration struck him, and he had an idea.
"But I'm expanding my army right now; I can't produce them immediately, and increasing production also takes time," Gamma stated his difficulty.
...
"How about this: I can sign an agreement with them. They can exchange this spirit bone formula for exclusive operating rights."
"Exclusive operating rights?" Yvraine couldn't understand such a profound business term.
The Tech-priest continued to explain, "It means that the weapons and equipment I produce will only be sold to them. They can use them themselves or sell them to others at a higher price, but only to Eldar."
One full meal or meals every day?
Yvraine was a smart person; the choice wasn't difficult. But this would expose her earlier outrageous demand. She was a prominent figure among the Eldar; if such an unseemly matter got out, how would others view her?
The conflicted Harbinger of Death thought of the Blue Man: If it were Guilliman, what would he choose?
"I've been hunting geese for years, but now I've been pecked in the eye by a sparrow. I've shamed the ancestors of the Adeptus Mechanicus!"
When Yvraine signed her name on the agreement, Gamma felt like he had disgraced the Tech-priests. He had actually been tricked by an alien, delivering such a large piece of cake to her.
"Your Highness Gamma, please take care of me in the future."
Looking at Yvraine, whose face bore the same "hypocritical" smile as Guilliman, Gamma's heart burned with hatred.
You might ask, the little Tech-priest has never met Guilliman himself, so how does he know it's the same hypocritical smile as Guilliman's?
Gamma would tell you that a couple's resemblance and the Great Secret Treasure both exist!
The thought of Yvraine using his Webway to transport his weapons and then raking in profits made Gamma's heart bleed.
Seeing the hateful alien make money was more painful to him than losing money himself.
If you ask, wouldn't it be better just to not let her use it?
Gamma would tell you, the more Yvraine earns, the more he earns. Who would turn down money!
"Hmph, why haven't you left yet? I don't provide meals here!" The little Tech-priest began to shoo her away. As an honest businessman, he couldn't stand Yvraine, this trash who got rich by "swindling and cheating."
"Your Highness Gamma, you still haven't said when the first batch of military supplies will be delivered, have you?" Yvraine completely disregarded the little Tech-priest's rude attitude.
Although Gamma also wanted to sell armaments, his production capacity was insufficient, but he didn't want to lose face in front of the alien, so he unhappily said:
"Why are you in such a hurry? Aren't you afraid of the goods getting stuck in your hands? It's not too late once you've found a customer!"
To his surprise, Yvraine replied, "When I last saw Guilliman, I heard him say that the Orks are stirring up trouble again. I think he happens to need a batch of powerful weapons manufactured by Your Highness Gamma. Coincidentally, I also have something to discuss with him. Why don't Your Highness give them to me now? It would also be helping the Imperium."
It's true what they say, a daughter marries out. She hasn't even married in yet and is already subsidizing the man. I think the Death Guard is finished! Thinking this, Gamma couldn't help but say:
"Aren't you afraid your subordinates will rebel if you do this?"
"Rebel?"
"You're using Death Guard resources to subsidize Guilliman. Won't your subordinates have opinions?"
Yvraine really wanted to pry open the little Tech-priest's skull, filled with gossip, to see what kind of dross was inside. She rolled her eyes at Gamma and said:
"How could I possibly give them to Guilliman for free? Of course, I'll sell them to him at double the price."
...
So, the Imperium was doomed. Guilliman was clearly a henpecked husband, listening to his mother Yudon when he was young, and now listening to the Thirteenth Princess. His old father was also paralyzed in "bed," and his vast family fortune was destined to be plundered by this hateful alien. For the future of humanity, he absolutely could not "aid the wicked." So, Gamma tilted his head back and said:
"Wait until I finish expanding my army."
Upon hearing this, Yvraine regretted it immensely. She still wasn't as shameless as Guilliman, otherwise, she wouldn't have given him the formula under the little Tech-priest's sarcasm just now, leaving her with nothing but an agreement that she didn't know if Gamma would honor, and no leverage over him.
But it was too late for regret now. She could only resort to other tactics she had learned from Guilliman—conjuring something out of nothing.
"Important matters come first. It's fine if our business is delayed for a while. Your Highness and I both have long lifespans!"
Gamma knew Yvraine was warning him that if he dared to break the contract, he wouldn't have peace in the future. What a joke! Didn't she know who she was dealing with? When had he ever done such a thing?
"Thank you for your understanding. These small things, once I free up my hands, will be a piece of cake!"
Yvraine also understood. The little Tech-priest was mocking her, ridiculing her for making grand statements without considering her own strength. The Harbinger of Death was annoyed, but she also had to face reality: Gamma was indeed stronger than her.
"With Your Highness Gamma's strength, you certainly wouldn't put these small things in your eyes. However, isn't Your Highness curious about where this formula was found?"
Ugh, so troublesome, she immediately hit my weak spot. Gamma was itching with curiosity from Yvraine's words. He was indeed very curious. He wanted to reclaim the face of the Adeptus Mechanicus ancestors; he wanted to dig up the "graves" of the Eldar ancestors!
"Tell me, let's deepen our cooperation!"
Her plan succeeding, Yvraine chuckled and said, "Your Highness, do you know about the Crone Worlds?"
The little Tech-priest, of course, knew about the Crone Worlds. They were a testament to the past glory of the ancient Eldar Empire. These planets were among the first to be colonized by the Eldar, and before being swallowed by the Eye of Terror, the colossal Warp Rift that appeared after Slaanesh's birth, they formed the core of the Eldar Empire, representing its most essential part.
But after the birth of the Eye of Terror, the region where the Crone Worlds were located was gradually consumed by Chaos, becoming a nightmarish land existing in reality.
In the Imperium of Man, the Crone Worlds were almost synonymous with Daemon Worlds, territories of the Ruinous Powers and their servants.
It was much the same in the eyes of the Craftworld Eldar, but whether Craftworld Eldar or Exodite Eldar, they would send people on journeys to the most dangerous regions of the entire galaxy, because the Crone Worlds were crucial to their continued existence—they were the sole source of spirit bone.
Countless Eldar who ventured to the Crone Worlds in search of new spirit bone or other valuable items never returned, and those who survived suffered severe psychological damage, quickly turning to the Infinite Circuit for solace.
"You mean this formula was found on one of the Crone Worlds?"
"Yes, a companion of mine accidentally found it while helping the Exodite Eldar search for spirit bone. According to the information currently available, that place was once an industrial hub of the ancient empire. Countless excellent Bonesingers gathered there during the imperial era. Your Highness Gamma can probably guess what that implies."
Damn, this hateful alien is tempting me. Can I fall for this trick?
Hmm… should I pull some people from the Gamma Legion…? No, no, where would I get the manpower? What about Great Crusade 1.5?… Or should I pull some from the Eldar…? No, no, what about repairing the Webway?
Seeing Gamma's constantly changing expression, Yvraine was delighted. With this bait, she wasn't afraid of the little Tech-priest reneging on his word.
"Your Highness, please take your time to consider. I will take my leave now."
After Yvraine left, Gamma was still in an internal struggle. He wasn't even in the mood to watch the young ladies dance until Eldrad came to report on work, which diverted his attention.
Eldrad's visit was for nothing else but the Wraithbone Engine. Although the prototype had been manufactured, there were still many issues from the laboratory to industrialized mass production. The biggest problem was the need for a large number of skilled trades—Bonesingers.
spirit bone nanomachines could solve the raw material problem, but parts directly molded by them could not be used. Like compressed metal powder parts, they still needed further processing to meet Gamma's requirements.
This necessitated the Bonesingers using their psychic powers to forge the "rough blanks." However, the number of Bonesingers on Ulthwé Craftworld was far from sufficient to meet the demands of industrial production, forcing Gamma to find a way to train a batch of qualified "psychic laborers."
"Your Highness is truly a genius!" Ulthwé's chief Bonesinger exclaimed, holding the Wraithbone Engine data.
The others who came with him all nodded in agreement. Because of their reluctance to travel through the Warp, Eldar ships either used the Webway or "crawled" at sub-light speeds in real space. The advent of the Wraithbone Engine was like fitting a prosthetic limb to the Eldar's crippled leg. Even if the Webway became unusable in the future, the Eldar would not completely lose their right to soar through the galaxy.
As for the speed being half that of a Warp engine, the Eldar didn't care at all; they had long lifespans.
"It hasn't been tested on a real ship yet, so don't celebrate too early," the little Tech-priest said, tilting his head back with feigned humility.
"How could anything fail when Your Highness takes action?" Eldrad also happily flattered Gamma.
"Hahaha, you all—never mind. Do you have any other opinions about the Bonesinger Academy?"
Hearing Gamma's question, the chief pondered for a moment before saying, "Focusing on shaping in training can indeed quickly cultivate talent that meets Your Highness's requirements, but such an incomplete education will inevitably bury the potential of young people with good talent in this area."
"Besides, to become an excellent Bonesinger, in addition to solid foundational knowledge, talent and inspiration are also indispensable. Repetitive labor will inevitably cause them to lose their creativity."
"You make a good point, but we urgently need to mass-produce Wraithbone Engines. The Craftworld fleet needs them, the Near Sea Fleet needs them, and even other Craftworlds may very well seek to purchase them from us in the future," the Supreme Seer replied after some thought.
"I understand this principle; sacrifices are inevitable. I just want to incorporate a selection process during the training of qualified workers, so that talented young people will have the opportunity to unleash their talents."
Hmm, why does this sound so familiar? Gamma thought as he watched the Eldar discuss back and forth.
As the training and selection of mortal soldiers, the cultivation of Bonesingers, the testing and finalization of Wraithbone Engines, and the secret attempts to repair the Webway proceeded systematically, the little Tech-priest found himself floating with the realization that he had completed all preparations to become a minor overlord of the Dark Imperium. All that remained was to wait.
Time slipped away unnoticed, and no great power suddenly emerged from the real universe to crush the little Tech-priest who was secretly developing in a corner of the galaxy.
Gamma settled into a "decadent" life of counting planets every few days, boring and monotonous, with nothing to do but waste time in song and dance.
"How lonely, how lonely is invincibility."
"How empty, how empty is invincibility."
"Alone at the peak, the cold wind continuously blows. My loneliness, who can understand me?"
"Ba ba ba ba ba—"
As soon as the song began, thunderous applause erupted from below the stage. Gamma's fanatical "fans" held up their homemade support signs, cheering and screaming for him.
"Your Highness sings wonderfully!"
"Your Highness, I love you!"
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Ultramarines: —
Custodes:
Their dark Gothic cyberpunk style made them so out of place and conspicuous at the "concert" that even Gamma, performing on stage, noticed these "unsociable guys."
He waved his hand, stopping the music and lights. To the lingering disappointment of his maidens, Gamma announced the end of the "concert" and then, still wearing a face full of makeup, walked over to Calgar and the others, asking:
"Why did you suddenly come?"
"We came to bid you farewell," Calgar stated their purpose directly.
Upon hearing this, Gamma thought Calgar and the others were finally fed up with his daily life of eating, drinking, and merrymaking and were about to abandon him. He quickly said:
"Don't do that. If you have any complaints, you can voice them. If you leave, what will happen to all these matters I have?"
...
The Ultramarines found it hard to describe their feelings. To say they were touched, the little Tech-priest did nothing serious day after day. To say they were angry, the little Tech-priest had entrusted military power to them without ever doubting them, even knowing they intended to gather intelligence and prevent Gamma from causing trouble.
"How long has Great Crusade 1.5 only just sped up, and you're already leaving? Are the people of the Dark Imperium not going to be saved? Is Abaddon not going to be hammered? Is Dante's face not going to be slapped?"
"I understand you have feelings, but I also resorted to this as a last resort to stabilize the Eldar. If I acted wise, heroic, and ambitious, the Eldar would not know how to guard against me, and how could the Imperium use the Webway?"
"I tell you, ever since the Webway Committee was established, the frequency of Chaos activity within the Imperial Holy Territory has been declining. The Regent has even written me several thank-you letters because of this."
Listening to Gamma's incessant pleas for them to stay, Calgar and the others were quite touched. Although they also understood that part of it was due to the little Tech-priest's habit of being a hands-off boss, for this unreserved trust alone, the Ultramarines didn't mind Gamma treating them like beasts of burden. But this time—
"Honsou has reappeared. He is leading Chaos warbands, pirates, cultists, and Xenos to invade the Five Hundred Worlds of Ultramar!"
Hearing Calgar utter the name "Honsou," Gamma turned to look at Ventris, remembering that Ventris had a grudge against Honsou.
With such an event, Gamma indeed found it hard to keep Calgar and the others. He couldn't possibly let the Ultramarines neglect their home world.
"Is the situation very bad?" Gamma, being half a Macragge native, asked with concern.
Calgar nodded gravely, replying, "The momentum is even greater than last time, and it is suspected to have the backing of other Chaos forces."
"What about the Regent's side?"
"There are abnormal movements from the Ork Empire in the Barrak and Andrea Sector 4, and the Imperium is mobilizing heavy troops in that direction."
Greenskins?
Yvraine seemed to have mentioned this, but it had been so long, and they were still mobilizing troops!
Alas, this efficiency is truly terrifyingly low, thought Gamma, who was used to the Webway and felt a bit like a full man not knowing the hunger of a starving one.
"So you're saying you shouldn't expect much support from the Imperium when you go back, right?" Gamma asked again.
"With the power of the 500 Worlds to respond—"
Gamma interrupted the stubborn Calgar. After wiping his face with a towel handed to him by a maid, he said, "I am a Macragge native. I cannot watch my home world be ravaged by that Honsou. Mobilize people from the Near Sea Fleet, the Expeditionary Fleet, and the Iron Men Legion. This time, don't let Honsou escape again!"
"..."
These words moved the Ultramarines deeply. True friendship is seen in adversity; at critical moments, one's own people are reliable. But despite the emotion, the power in the little Tech-priest's hands was a bit too heretical, and once exposed, the consequences would be unimaginable.
Seeing Calgar remain silent, Gamma understood what was going on. He said nonchalantly, "I can't always be low-key. Even without this incident, as my territory expands, I will eventually be exposed to others' view."
"And even if you don't admit it, with the Regent there, who would dare to act aggressively?"
"If they investigate in secret, can they find the Dark Imperium?"
Ventris then advised Calgar, "Chapter Master, I believe Magos Gamma makes a good point."
Others also chimed in, "Yes, Chapter Master, the 500 Worlds have only just recovered from the previous wars. If they are ravaged by war again, who knows how long it will take to recover."
"Exactly. If several agricultural worlds are severely damaged, and we don't use Magos Gamma's food factories, we can only watch them starve. If we do use them, it will inevitably expose us to prying eyes. It's better to use Magos Gamma's power from the start to crush that scoundrel Honsou!"
"The chance of exposure with a quick battle is not high. Even if it is noticed, by the time they act, the forces will have already withdrawn to the Dark Imperium, and they will have no way to investigate."
"Enough!" Calgar stopped his brothers who were trying hard to persuade him. Then, after bowing to the little Tech-priest, he said solemnly and gravely:
"Gamma, the Ultramarines will not forget your help to us!"
Seeing Calgar's action, the others also bowed to Gamma in thanks, which made the little Tech-priest quite embarrassed.
"It's nothing major. I am a Macragge native; it's only right. You all go and come back quickly. I still have so many things waiting for you here."
.
Why are they silent again? What does this mean? Are they really going to run?! This made Gamma quite angry. He kicked Calgar's ceramite shin and said angrily:
"Where's your conscience? Where's your sense of responsibility? Are you worthy of my trust in you?"
Calgar looked a bit awkwardly at the stomping Gamma and gave Ventris a look, urging him to speak up.
Ventris, receiving his Chapter Master's command, could only bite the bullet and explain, "Gamma, it's not what you think. The Chapter Master is the administrator of Ultramar's 500 Worlds. Without him stationed in Macragge, no one else has the authority to mobilize all the forces of the 500 Worlds."
"Honsou's second Battle of Ultramar has exposed this problem."
Hmm, indeed, it's not good for the leader to be away from home all the time.
Ventris's words somewhat appeased Gamma, but he still asked with an annoyed expression, "If you all don't come back, what will I do here?"
"Don't worry, I will stay!" Ventris replied.
"You?!" Gamma scrutinized the "Gaius" with a look that questioned his capability.
It wasn't that the little Tech-priest disliked his old friend Ventris; his strategic vision was indeed inferior to Calgar's, otherwise, he wouldn't have remained Gaius for so long without being promoted to First Company Commander.
The Gaius, being scrutinized, gave an embarrassed smile. He himself admitted that his abilities were a bit inferior to the Chapter Master's, but since becoming a Legion Commander, he had progressed greatly, and surpassing the Chapter Master was only a matter of time.
"Not me, there's a more suitable candidate than me!" Ventris explained guiltily, "Who is it?"
The warriors stepping out of the Webway gate felt an innate revulsion at the scene before them, stemming from their very blood.
"Truly a desecration!"
Hearing his brother's voice squeezed through his teeth, the Astartes leader reprimanded, "Silence! Do not forget our mission!"
"Yes!"
"All of you too!"
"Yes!" Xn
Xenos, Xenos, as far as the eye could see, all Xenos, interspersed with blasphemous soulless machines. Nameless rage burned in the hearts of these Space Marines; they wanted to destroy this place, to obliterate everything before them.
"My lord, this way please."
Following the sound, what entered their fire-burning vision was another kind of "thing" they wanted to destroy and kill: a heretic living in peace with Xenos.
"Good," the Astartes leader nodded, then, guided by the heretic, boarded the vehicle. His brothers followed closely behind.
As the vehicle started, more Xenos appeared in their sight. The guiding mortal felt a suffocating killing intent and quickly swallowed a fast-acting tranquilizer to calm himself before speaking:
"My lords, I understand your desire to destroy the Xenos, but please do not forget where this is!"
"You don't like the Eldar either?" the Astartes leader suddenly asked.
The official spread his hands and said, "No one likes them."
"Yet you submit at their feet," an Astartes sitting not far from the official said mockingly and disdainfully.
This time, the leader did not intervene to stop him. Perhaps he realized that the heretic before them was not entirely beyond redemption. But this mortal did not flinch like other mortals in the Imperium due to their status as the Emperor's Angels. Upon hearing the sarcastic remark, a look of anger appeared on his face as he retorted:
"Without investigation, there is no right to comment. We obey His Highness Gamma, and these Xenos do as well. Also, put away your tricks; I don't believe the Ultramarines haven't given you intelligence about this place."
"It is best not to try to test if the intelligence is wrong again. If you anger His Highness over such matters, not even the Imperial Regent can save you!"
These words did not make the Astartes erupt. Instead, the leading warrior laughed, and as he laughed, he said, "Are you worried that we will implicate you?"
The official candidly admitted, "Yes."
"Why?"
"Because you are Blood Angels!"
Gamma's expression was quite a sight after hearing Ventris say that Guilliman wanted Dante and the Blood Angels to replace Calgar and the Ultramarines. It was pale with a hint of red, then red with a hint of black.
"This is even worse than letting Ventris go! What if they suddenly ask, 'Are you Horus?' Should I kill them?!"
Calgar felt a headache coming on as he watched the little Tech-priest bang on the table, but what could he say about a person chosen by a Primarch?
"Ahem, Gamma, listen to me explain!"
"I won't listen! I've been so loyal to the Imperium, so devoted to the Regent, so dedicated to Ultramar, and what do I get in return?"
The Ultramarines felt no guilt upon hearing Gamma's indignant questioning. 'Emperor, you can diss whoever you want, and you can make up gossip about Primarchs and Xenos as you please, but besides that line about Ultramar, you don't look like a loyal Imperial subject at all!'
"The Primarch merely suggested it. Whether you accept it or not, you should at least wait until you've met Dante before deciding. Moreover, the Regent is doing this for your sake."
The little Tech-priest crossed his arms, his eyes telling Calgar: 'Keep making it up!'
The Ultramarines had no choice but to patiently explain to Gamma: "You don't mind your faction's intelligence being controlled by the Imperium, which indeed shows your utmost sincerity."
"But this isn't about whether you want to, it's about whether you can!"
"If Imperial personnel without sufficient status are accepted by you, your subordinates will inevitably start having other ideas."
"You know how much they worship you. To push you to the position they envision for you, they might do anything!"
"Dante has the status of a Dark Regent and is the Chapter Master of the Blood Angels. His appointment as the overall commander of the expedition is enough to convey your intentions to everyone."
"Furthermore, with him present, if you encounter Lion King in the future, he will understand that all your actions are at the Regent's behest and will not harbor excessive hostility towards you."
After hearing Calgar's explanation, Gamma pondered for a moment, then reluctantly said, "I don't quite trust him. What if he sends my people to their deaths?"
"You don't need to worry about that. Dante understands better than anyone the current dire situation of the Dark Imperium and the reality that the Imperium is powerless to change it.
You are the hope for the Dark Imperium to rejoin the Imperium. His experience will not allow him to do such a thing."
"Besides, leaving Ventris behind is also an insurance policy for you. Any of Dante's decisions cannot bypass him and Conquest."
"Quite thorough planning," Gamma said with a smirk.
The little Tech-priest's reaction allowed Calgar to breathe a sigh of relief. He truly feared that Gamma would act out, letting Ventris and Conquest lead his armies to continue the expedition. This would inevitably lead to a confrontation with the Dark Angels. Based on Calgar's understanding of those mysterious cousins, even if Gamma didn't provoke them, they would provoke Gamma. If Gamma, in his anger, unleashed the powers he held, the consequences would be unimaginable!
Whether Lion King defeated Gamma, or Gamma crushed the Dark Angels, both would be a loss of strength for the Imperium. If either Lion King or Gamma died at the hands of the other, no matter the outcome, the Imperium would gain a terrifying enemy!
As a man who had lived for over 1700 years, Dante understood at first sight of Gamma why the Regent had described him as "extraordinary" in his letter. Before this, he couldn't comprehend what kind of being could be called "extraordinary" by a Primarch.
"Greetings, Your Highness Gamma," Dante saluted the little Tech-priest seated on the throne.
"Hmm, you've traveled a long way, it must have been arduous."
Gamma's calm and indifferent voice echoed in the ears of the Blood Angels, but this did not alarm these battle-hardened warriors who had cut down countless monsters.
Then came a long period of silence. The little Tech-priest had never been this serious so few times in his life, which left him unsure of what to say. According to usual custom, he should have already ordered a banquet, but Dante and his Blood Guard behind him were complete strangers to Gamma, which made him a bit reserved.
Fortunately, because Calgar had taken away some personnel, forcing the expedition to pause, Ventris uncharacteristically appeared at Gamma's court. He saw through the little Tech-priest's feigned solemnity and awkwardness, so he stepped forward to lighten the mood.
"Lord Dante, Magos Gamma is very pleased by your arrival. He has specially prepared a welcome banquet for you."
Dante's expression was a bit strange when he saw Ventris, who bore no Ultramarines insignia, but he hid it well and it went unnoticed by others.
He still had a deep impression of Ventris. When the Indomitus Crusade fleet supported Baal, Ventris stood behind the Primarch. "Many thanks," Dante thanked him again.
Unexpectedly, the little Tech-priest touched his face, then bounced off the throne with a whoosh, waving his small hand and saying, "Let's go, banquet time!"
He couldn't keep up the act. His true nature would be exposed sooner or later. Magos Gamma would never make himself suffer!
Dante:
The banquet was of a high standard. Dante and the Blood Angels could feel the organizer's thoughtfulness from the layout and the dishes. The Blood Angels, with their high artistic sensibilities, felt that these were not food, but works of art.
Unlike the cultured Blood Angels, the accompanying Ultramarines were much cruder. He was like an ox chewing on peonies, devouring plate after plate of "artwork" under the regretful gaze of the Blood Angels.
"Why aren't you eating? If it's not to your liking, the chefs in the back can remake it according to your tastes."
"No, no, it's very good, very delicious."
A hint of regret flashed in Dante's eyes, but he still elegantly picked up the cutlery in front of him, adding a flawed beauty to the "artwork."
"I understand it's difficult for you to adapt to here at first, but I assure you, Gamma is a very easy person to get along with."
"You've known him for a long time?" Dante asked.
"A very long time. When I met Gamma, he was only a few years old, hahaha." Ventris burst out laughing, recalling the scene of Gamma pretending to be young to curry favor.
"Pfft, a centuries-old man asking a child of a few years to do things for him, that's quite a colorful stroke in your life's story."
Gamma's sudden voice almost made Ventris choke. After swallowing the food in his mouth, he looked at the little Tech-priest, who had appeared out of nowhere, and asked,
"When did you get here? I didn't notice at all?"
"Hmph, I have my ways of not letting you find out." Gamma, pleased with his successful prank, rolled his eyes at the Ultramarines.
When Gamma appeared, Dante and the Blood Angels instinctively tensed up. After realizing, they relaxed again, but their inner thoughts were not as calm as their outward appearance. To arrive beside them so stealthily meant he could also kill them so stealthily.
"Can't you use your power for something meaningful?" Ventris complained, moving aside to make room for Gamma and Dante, the two main characters of the banquet.
"Which of your possessions wasn't made by me?"
Gamma plopped down next to Dante, then pointed to the mask at his waist and asked, "Is this a one-to-one replica of Sanguinius's face?"
"To say it's a one-to-one replica of my father's face is an exaggeration, but it's very close. When I presented it to Lion King, he recognized it as my father's face at a glance," Dante replied calmly.
"Can I make a copy?"
"Of course."
"Thank you. What do you think of the Eldar under my command?"
Ventris, who had been silently observing, felt his heart jump to his throat. Baal was almost chewed into a dustball by the Tyranid, so it would be strange if the Blood Angels had a good attitude towards Xenos. He secretly picked up an empty plate, ready to smash it if anything went wrong, to distract Gamma and the others.
"And what do you think?" Dante countered.
"They started as tools, but over time, they became my subjects."
The Chapter Master of the Blood Angels nodded after hearing this and said, "I can understand. I can feel that they genuinely support you."
"I thought you would reluctantly say something insincere, but I didn't expect you to say it so calmly."
"Regarding Xenos races, I never trust them, but I have never hated them either, except for the Tyranid, Orks, Necrons, and Dark Eldar."
Upon hearing this, the little Tech-priest looked disdainfully at the Ultramarines, who was holding an empty plate and seemed to be contemplating something. 'Look at his ideological awareness, and then look at you!'
Ventris:
"..."
"You're right, these scourges are one less problem with each one gone. Happy cooperation!"
Gamma said, extending his hand. Dante looked down at the tiny Gamma, and also extended his palm. As the large and small hands clasped together, a voice echoed in Dante's mind:
'Help me complete my plan. If possible, I will let you see the owner of this face walk among the living once more.'
Dante's hand involuntarily tightened. When he recovered from the shock, he suddenly realized that the hand he held felt like a lump of adamantium; no amount of force could leave even the slightest mark on its surface.
After the little Tech-priest left with a grin, that sentence still resonated in Dante's mind. He numbly, mechanically, ate the food in front of him bite by bite. The Blood Guard, noticing their leader's abnormality, cautiously approached to ask if something had happened, but Dante merely shook his head, telling his brothers that he was fine.
It wasn't until the banquet was almost over that he quietly asked Ventris, "Ventris, what is he?"
The Ultramarines, who had also noticed Dante's abnormality, looked at him, hesitated for a moment, then asked, "Did he promise you something?
"...The Ultramarines, who had already received his answer, smiled and said, "That's truly his style; he never lets people work for him for free."
"What Gamma is, I don't know, and he doesn't know himself. Dwelling on that question doesn't have much meaning."
"But if he makes a promise, he's highly likely to be able to fulfill it!"
Dante's legend spread among the Imperial populace like a myth, comparable to Logan and Calgar, making them the three titans of the Imperium.
Logan was popular for his approachability, and Calgar was respected for his exceptional abilities and outrageous exploits. In contrast, Dante's image in the hearts of the Imperial people was that of a savior, a golden deity descending from the heavens on wings of flame.
Compared to the other two Chapter Masters, his deeds and status were almost indistinguishable from legends, and even other Space Marines held Dante in awe.
As for Dante himself, he mostly remained noncommittal about all the rumors, tacitly allowing them to grow increasingly exaggerated. In his words:
"I allow the legends about me to increasingly diverge from reality. I allow people to believe I am invincible and possess potential beyond my true capabilities. I am honored to inspire everyone in this way."
Personally, he had long grown weary of being worshipped as a hero and did not wish to play the role of a saint. Again, in his own words:
"I am merely an ordinary man; a human heart beats beneath my armor, and beside it, another heart, a gift bestowed upon me by the Emperor."
Unlike Calgar's exhausting toil, Dante's experiences could be described as "bitter." The Red Thirst and Black Rage, both a curse and a blessing in dire straits, constantly afflicted every descendant of Sanguinius.
Several wars that nearly wiped out his Chapter had left Dante, this "old man," physically and mentally exhausted. Astartes were not supposed to possess such delicate mortal emotions, but "unfortunately," Dante was an anomaly.
Through his childhood experiences and years of campaigning across the galaxy, Dante clearly understood the lives of ordinary citizens under Imperial rule and felt sympathy for them.
Like most Commanders in the Imperial military, Dante did not believe that the lives of ordinary soldiers in the Imperial Guard or any other Imperial force were something to be wantonly wasted. He held their sacrifices in the highest regard.
Yes, you read that correctly. If most Imperial officers were crazy individuals who treated lives like dirt, the Imperium would have collapsed long ago. The reality is not what most people imagine:
"Sacrifice is the cornerstone of the Imperium" is merely a compromise in the face of cruel reality, a reason to convince oneself, a helplessness born of understanding human reality, and ultimately, the most desperate choice.
Dante once chose to ally with the Necrons to defend against a Tyranid attack, saving the planet Baal. When some pointed out that this might lead to accusations of treason, Dante stated he was willing to take the risk for the people of Baal.
He sometimes wondered, if Sanguinius was such a great hero, then why was Baal Secundus always a wasteland?
Did the almighty gene-father lack the power and resources to terraform a small moon?
He even suspected that the Archangel deliberately allowed his people to suffer hardships so that their tempered children would become excellent warriors.
When he was a Scout, he participated in the extermination of the xenos race, the Aureti. During the operation, Dante showed sympathy for these naturally peaceful xenos, who essentially lived as scavengers. Their pleas for mercy almost made him lower his weapon.
Although those xenos were still annihilated by him and his brothers, the Aureti extermination deeply affected him that year. In Dante's heart: those poor xenos were merely refugees on the brink of extinction, surviving by scavenging scraps on a death world, and they clearly believed this desolate planet was unclaimed territory.
But to the Imperium, even a wasteland was an Imperial wasteland, and these audacious xenos dared to trespass on Imperial ground!
They must have eliminated the original inhabitants here to turn this planet into a death world!
Yes! It must be so!
Even after more than sixteen hundred years, Dante still regretted the demise of the Aureti.
Perhaps it was precisely because of Dante's unique character that he was repeatedly pulled back from the release of death by "people."
After Ventris led the Blood Angels to tour the planets under Gamma's rule, Dante praised them from the bottom of his heart:
"It's truly beautiful here—"
Although there were xenos, although abhorrent artificial intelligence was used, and although there were countless reasons for the Blood Angels to issue an Exterminatus here, they had to admit that this was the closest place to their idea of paradise.
"It's incredible, isn't it? So heretical, yet it makes one instinctively want to protect it with all their might," Ventris also sighed with emotion.
"Indeed, it's incredible. I even have the thought of letting Gamma rule Baal," Dante said without reservation.
Ventris chuckled after hearing this and said, "Chapter Master Calgar also said something similar."
Then he changed the subject, asking with a hint of confusion, "I remember the Primarch once ordered the Adeptus Mechanicus to transform Baal into a garden world at all costs?"
Dante shrugged helplessly and replied, "You know what those Tech-priests are like, especially in the Imperium's dark corners where the Regent is far away and the sky is high."
"Hmph!" Ventris clicked his tongue and said nothing.
"Let's go. We've seen the beautiful things; now it's time to show me the less beautiful ones."
"Then you might be disappointed. For us, those things might be even more beautiful!"
Dante looked at his cousin with some surprise; he didn't quite understand what the other meant. However, when the Gamma Warriors and Iron Men legions appeared before the Blood Angels, they truly gained an intuitive understanding of Gamma's strength.
No Astartes did not yearn for the Great Crusade. No Commander did not wish for his soldiers to be eternally high-spirited, fearlessly brave.
Especially when the Blood Angels learned that the Gamma Warriors' talent was controlling their own emotions, a thought inevitably arose in their minds:
What if we could control the Red Thirst and Black Rage?
"Ventris, you mean these Gamma Warriors have no connection to any Primarch!?" Dante's voice carried an excitement he himself didn't notice.
"None. Our Apothecaries have examined their gene-sequences, and they are only largely similar to ours, but there are no gene-fragments specific to any founding Chapter."
To create Space Marines without a Primarch—which, conversely, implied a Primarch could be created from them—Dante's excitement was beyond words. He had felt the will of "Sanguinius" more than once. What would happen if there was a body that could carry that will?!
However, when Dante had this thought, a golden figure with wings on his back and a mask on his head, somewhere in the Warp, covered his forehead with a headache.
Unfortunately, Dante was unaware of what was happening in the Warp. He was now full of vigor. He found that, whether viewed from the current reality of the Imperium's dark corners, the overall interests of humanity, or the "little schemes" of the Blood Angels, helping Gamma complete his Crusade was beneficial.
As for the presence of the Imperial Custodes, those "big daddies," that was certainly beneficial too!
Therefore, Dante's speed in accepting so many heretical things far exceeded Gamma and Ventris's imagination. Recruitment had just begun,
and Dante had already formulated a battle plan based on the current situation. The Great Crusade 1.5 set sail once more.
To be honest, Dante had rarely fought such smooth battles in over 1700 years. Take planning, for example: he only had to voice an idea, and Conquest would list nearly a hundred feasible methods. When he needed specific combat data, Conquest would report detailed information on every single warrior.
On-the-spot command?
Are you kidding? When it comes to battlefield micro-management, who can perform absurd operations like an artificial intelligence raising a gun barrel half a meter?
As for efficiency?
To borrow a quote Dante once said: "I have fought every enemy humanity must face, from Orks to brainless and annoying bureaucracies."
You can tell how much he hated the bloated and incompetent administrative organs of the Imperium.
While Dante was "celebrating the New Year with joy," Calgar and the Ultramarines who returned with him all missed their "heretical" happy times.
When Calgar and his fleet, "borrowed" from Gamma, returned home, they couldn't help but feel a sense of returning home in glory after years of fighting abroad.
Their backs were so stiff, they wanted to stand even when using the restroom!
But reality quickly delivered a harsh blow, not because the enemy was too strong, but because the Space Wolves, who appeared from nowhere, came to interfere with their performance. The key was that they were genuinely enthusiastic about helping, so they couldn't just send them away.
"Chapter Master Calgar, those ships you brought back don't seem to be produced by the Adeptus Mechanicus, do they?" Young Wolf Lord Ragnar Blackmane asked, with an implied meaning in his words.
Calgar parried with a ready excuse: "Do you know about Thedan?"
"The one under the Regent?"
"Yes, they produced them. It seems they discovered a new STC, but no one knows the specifics. Those Tech-priests always hide what they're doing."
"Oh, I see. But Chapter Master Calgar truly has great courage, daring to use new ships untested in battle!"
Hmph, why are you causing trouble—Although Calgar was annoyed, he could only say:
"You know our relationship with Thedan. If we don't support them, who will? I've personally tested the performance of these ships, and they're quite decent. Otherwise, what do you think I've been busy with all these years? It's been practicing with xenos to help my brothers adapt to these new ships as quickly as possible."
"Oh."
Calgar's words were watertight, leaving Ragnar puzzled but unable to ask further questions. However, as a young Wolf Lord, Ragnar's curiosity about new things was much higher than that of his older brothers. He was calculating in his mind that if these new ships performed well, he would also get one or two for the folks on Fenris to broaden their horizons.
After dealing with the overly curious Wolf Cub, the Ultramarines Chapter Master had to face another headache—the Imperium's damned inefficiency.
It's easy to go from frugality to extravagance, but hard to go from extravagance to frugality. Calgar used to just find it slow, but given the Imperium's vastness, while slow, it wasn't unacceptable. Now, however, he truly couldn't accept it.
Emperor! How many years had it been since he worried about food and supplies? Shouldn't these things just be ordered by deploying a few Mechanical Beetles, and then they'd jump out of the factory into the soldiers' hands by the next day?
What do you mean the enemy's firepower is too strong, and we can't withstand the traitors' attack? How strong? How strong could it be?
Stronger than Gauss flayers, or stronger than living lightning, rapid-fire plasma, and dimensional distortion cannons? Calgar and his battle-brothers who returned with him looked at Severus Agemman, the Regent of Ultramar and First Captain of the Ultramarines, who was passionately discussing with the arriving successor Chapters. They didn't want to say a single word. If they had to say something, what they most wanted to say was:
How about you all take a break, warm up some wine, and we'll be right back!
But in Severus's eyes, Calgar's silence became: the Chapter Master has been away for a long time and is worried about making wrong judgments without understanding the situation in Ultramar over the years, so he is entrusting this important task to them.
Feeling the weight of their responsibility, the First Captain and the other successor Chapters, after detailed analysis and discussion, presented their conclusions and plans.
"Chapter Master, Honsou's forces are currently at their peak. A rash attack would likely result in heavy losses. It would be better to temporarily avoid his edge, use deep defense to buy time, and then, once we've accumulated strength..."
When Calgar heard the words "temporarily avoid his edge," a certain string in his mind snapped.
"I avoid his edge?"
"I avoid his edge!"