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Chapter 103: The Next Direction
🕑 Added 2025-08-21 15:21:41 +0000 UTCChapter 103: The Next Direction
Serious gazes all converged on Romulus. They were waiting for an answer, not even seeming to care that the Archmagos was listening in on their meeting.
"We all know the invasion pattern of this Hive Fleet," Romulus began, pointing at Macragge, a star system composed of a civilized world, a shrine world, an agri-world, and a hive world, forming a perfect, self-sustaining loop. "Genestealers infect the Imperial populace and send local information to their parent Hive Fleet. The Hive Fleet then plots a course, devouring any life-bearing planets in its path."
"Ultramar is a prosperous realm, and Macragge is the jewel in its crown. Furthermore, Lord Guilliman is a gene-primarch who can still be venerated by the Imperial citizens today. Countless transport fleets travel to Ultramar every year. And as for the infiltration capabilities of the Genestealers... I believe everyone who has read the combat reports has seen it for themselves."
Compared to Dorn, who left a hand, Ferrus, who left a head, and Sanguinius, who left a... stain, Guilliman's condition was much better. Lying in his stasis field, he could be said to be the only living Primarch in the Imperium today, and the only one still "making public appearances."
"Damn it! I knew the vanity of those Ultramar successors would bring them a world of trouble!" Aelon, the Nemesis Chapter Master, slammed his fist on the table. It was clear that these warriors, who had inherited their lineage from Terran-born stock, had also inherited their Primarch's original fiery temper.
Then he realized that the leader of the Invictarus Suzerain from ten thousand years ago was sitting right beside him. "...My apologies, Elder. I was not speaking of you."
"It is of no consequence," Drakus said, shaking his head. He could understand such a move. Compared to the high-pressure environment of the greater Imperium, Macragge had a certain lazy feel that other human worlds lacked. Their system of governance was even a democratic council. Back when the traitor Konrad Curze had infiltrated Macragge, there had even been public protests against the lockdown, which had driven their entire company of Invictarus Suzerain mad with frustration. To put the Primarch on public display now was not an unexpected move. What was wrong was wrong.
It was a pity they had not been able to protect their Primarch. They had not even been able to protect Lady Yuten, who had raised him.
"My Lord, based on your past experience, how long until the Hive Fleet reaches the Macragge region?" Drakus asked directly, pushing aside the gloom in his eyes.
The origins of the four transmigrators were unclear. The Dark Angel and the Thousand Son could not be openly discussed. Even the "Stormcast" could only be attributed to a miracle of the Emperor. So they had simply started treating these guys as someone else's Primarchs. Now, not only they themselves, but even Cawl had been the first to stop them from performing a genetic verification. So it was up to Drakus and the others, whose identities and genes had been verified, to constantly fill in the blanks. An enemy from beyond the void was a good excuse.
"A conservative estimate, four Terran years," Romulus replied instantly.
It had to be an Ultramarine. Dantioch and the other Imperial Fist "Stormcast" were all silent as stones, not making a sound.
"My Lord, we can make it in time," High Marshal Helbrecht said after a quick consultation with his Navigator. Macragge was in the galactic southeast, half a galaxy away from their current position. For some reason, after the God-Emperor had revealed His miracle, the tides of the Warp had been very calm. The Four Gods of the Empyrean seemed to be focused on their internal affairs and had not chosen to concentrate their efforts on interfering with reality.
He then added with a slightly pained expression, "But the Black Templars can only provide four thousand men for this crusade, a fleet consisting of one Gloriana-class and three battleships. We will need to split our fleet en route to answer the calls for aid from our other allies."
Look at that. What it means to be a big family with a big business. And he says "only."
"The Nemesis Chapter can provide the combat strength of a full Codex Chapter. The Nemesis fleet will also accompany you," Aelon added, as if the three companies they had just lost on Pierdra had been instantly replenished.
Look at that. A thousand men, Schrodinger's style.
"..." The transmigrators looked at the two who had been the first to speak, one completely unrestrained, the other slightly more so. Now I see. You Terran-born successors are all over-procreating crusaders, every last one of you.
But it was understandable. A Chapter that could operate a Gloriana-class battleship must have more than a thousand men. As for how they reached this conclusion, they just had to look at the most Codex-compliant Chapter, the Ultramarines. Their Gloriana could only be kept on Macragge as a tourist attraction, just like Guilliman. To form a combat force with it was a pipe dream.
The remaining Crimson Fists and Executioners also stated their positions. They had not arrived with their full Chapters, but they still had a degree of autonomy.
Everyone now understood why Romulus had brought this up. He wanted to use their combined strength to participate in a sufficiently grand war, to build good relations with the new-era Founding Chapters, to get themselves on the Imperial radar, and to raise their prestige to facilitate their own future establishment.
As expected of a son of Guilliman.
But no one had any objection to this, which could be seen as a form of manipulation.
Why refuse?
Come on, to be able to go on a crusade that spanned half the galaxy with elders, to fight against a great enemy that coveted a Primarch... just thinking about it was super cool.
And the Carcharodons had no objections either.
Tyberos looked at the list in his hand.
One Adeptus Mechanicus escort fleet, and a full upgrade and refit for the Space Sharks' fleet, to be redeemed on the spot.
Twenty percent of a Forge World's production for one hundred years, to be picked up at several designated Forge Worlds over time.
And then he looked at the number of sacrifices the Sharks had made in this war. A little over two hundred men...
The towering giant sighed softly. After one battle, the debt had not been repaid. It had only grown larger. When would he be able to return to the outer dark?
Calculating the time he had spent in the galaxy this time, Tyberos fell into a state of happy vexation.
And the four elders were probably going to hand out some more holy relics. As Tyberos had expected, Romulus also produced a list.
"Hmm, we cannot provide as much as the Archmagos for this operation, but this is a small token of our appreciation."
The same old three: gunships, tanks, and power armor.
The commanders looked at the equipment on the list and got a taste of the unique extravagance of Ultramar.
"My Lord, we cannot—" Helbrecht almost instinctively refused, but was cut off by Romulus.
"We no longer have enough men to use this equipment," he said, and the council chamber fell into a strange silence.
"We will accept it."
"Yes, my Lord."
Everyone nodded sullenly.
"Right, I wish for you to send a warning to the various Chapters that still possess the remains of their Primarchs. Have them lock down all information about their Primarchs and prepare contingency plans for relocation at all times," Romulus added.
"Leave it to us, my Lord." Helbrecht beat his chest and took on the task. The Black Templars had been crusading the galaxy for ten thousand years. Their honor-debts were countless. Aside from when they were annoyed with their own family, they had close ties with all the Founding Chapters. Of course, out of brotherly affection, he would still inform the other sons of Dorn, but as for where the information came from... brother, don't ask.
"Good. Then I'll trouble you with that." Romulus acknowledged. Having the help of these social butterflies, the "Black Beastmen," really made things easier. He then thought for a moment and added, "Right, the information is best delivered by a dedicated agent, face-to-face. Exclude all other methods, including psychic ones, as much as possible. The recipient must be confirmed to be free of genetic defects before the information is transmitted. You can obtain this type of genetic testing device from Archmagos Cawl."
"The Explorator fleet will continue to accompany you on this operation. And the entire fleet can undergo a full resupply when passing through the Forge World of Tigrus," Cawl said, taking the opening Romulus had given him. He was also incredibly frustrated. One foot, he had just solved the flaws in the Primaris surgery and the technical problems of the Armor of Fate. The next, the person he was supposed to be helping was about to be eaten by xenos. Why did the xenos and heretics always have to mess with him?
"Then the planning of the route will be left to you," Romulus said with a smile. After so long, he could finally slack off a bit.
"My Lord, the Black Templars can share their routes with you, excluding the classified ones," Helbrecht added.
The High Marshal is also quite the operator.
Routes were a reserve for every fleet. Aside from the standard ones, they were rarely shared, because a slight carelessness could mean the life or death of a fleet. If the enemy knew the routes you possessed, they could basically control your movements in a sector. A fleet with insufficient strength would be directly ambushed and destroyed.
"Thank you, High Marshal. Then, this meeting is adjourned." Romulus and his companions were the first to rise.
"Oh, and besides Techmarine Dantioch, who still needs to assist us, we will not interfere with the departure or stay of the other members," Romulus said, turning his head as he walked out the door, dropping another surprise on the Chapter members.
"Huh?"
Everyone looked with surprise at the elders at their side. The veterans from the Great Crusade all nodded. This was something the transmigrators had discussed with them beforehand. The first batch of "Stormcast" was just a brute-force experiment, just to verify the correctness of the idea. After death, they would, like the daemons of the Four Gods, directly return to the Warp and be re-summoned through a ritual. The cost was actually quite high.
In the hands of the transmigrators, these two hundred-plus men couldn't be used to their full potential. After Romulus had recorded all their combat models, it was better to use the military experience they had pickled in the battlefields of a far more intense era than M41 to help these successors improve. Ramesses was already researching a new ritual process. Only units that could be quickly brought back after death to form a fighting force were within their consideration.
Except for technical specialists like Dantioch, there was no need to tie the others down.
Hiss, when you think about it, the Emperor really had a deep meaning in His actions.
All the others were elders of the various Chapters' companies before the Second Founding. Only Dantioch was a lone, loyalist Iron Warrior. Wasn't he left for them?
Walking down the main avenue, Romulus felt more and more that the Emperor was starting to act like a person.
"..."
Ramesses looked at Romulus's expression and smiled, shaking his head. Sometimes, when a person is suddenly nice to you, it's not because they've suddenly changed their personality, but because they're afraid.
"What's next?" Arthur asked.
"Arthur, you go and transport the equipment. Ramesses, you hurry up and write that manual and send it to me. I'll discuss the technical problems with Dantioch," Romulus quickly commanded.
"Right." Arthur nodded, called over a few of the elders, and went to the launch bay, preparing to empty the warehouses on the Dawnlight that Romulus had stocked with equipment.
Karna, seeing that he had nothing to do, very decisively slipped away into the crowd of mortals before Arthur could arrest him.
"This is the equipment for this mission. This is the inventory list."
"Thank you, Elder."
Aboard the Eternal Crusader, Helbrecht, who had just returned to his flagship not long ago, was receiving the equipment transport teams in the cargo bay.
"Mm." Arthur nodded. He observed his surroundings, and after confirming there were no outsiders, he returned to the transport and, with both hands, pushed out a gene-seed storage container that was two men tall and still radiating a cold mist.
"This is..."
Helbrecht looked into the container through the sliding cover that Arthur had opened and saw that it was filled with gene-seed. Based on the volume of the container, a conservative estimate would be around five hundred. He was speechless.
"Complete, including the surgical procedures," Arthur reminded him.
Helbrecht took a deep breath. "This is too precious!"
Helbrecht had never imagined that not only would these elders give him a big red envelope, but when he opened it, there would be a gold bar inside.
This was a complete set of Imperial Fists gene-seed.
It wasn't that the sons of Dorn had simply lost the surgical procedures. How could a First Founding Chapter not be able to get a complete set of surgeries? The real problem was that after Dorn had vanished, due to the rapid recruitment measures that had caused their gene-seed to degrade, the organs they cultivated were simply ineffective, which was why they had been forced to abandon some of the surgeries.
And now, a complete set of gene-seed was right before them.
This filled Helbrecht with a sense of mission, and at the same time, a strong sense of honor for his own Black Templars.
Of course. We are the true inheritors of Dorn's will. Otherwise, why would the elders have chosen us?
"As I said before, it needs someone to use it," Arthur said, his calm state making it impossible to refuse.
"My Lord, I promise you, we will select the most outstanding candidates to carry the honor of the elders!" Helbrecht immediately contacted his Chapter's Apothecaries, and at the same time, solemnly saluted Arthur.
"Of course. I believe in you," Arthur replied, returning the salute seriously. "And I require payment."
"Please speak, my Lord!" Helbrecht puffed out his chest.
Arthur did not answer, but instead, looked up and surveyed the various high-ranking members of the Black Templars. Everyone he met his gaze with stood up straight.
"..."
Arthur nodded silently. He then casually tossed his shield aside, and, holding his black sword, walked to a landing platform.
"Come," the black knight said, raising his sword, and issuing an invitation to the members of the Sword Brethren.
(End of Chapter)
