Baal Secundus—
Before this, Seth had never imagined that ditation could be such a calming experience.
As he sat within the chapel, eyes closed, feeling the warmth of the morning sun upon his skin, his senses expanded without limit.
In the dry wind, he could feel the pulsing veins of Mortals, clearly recall the myriad of tactical knowledge he had acquired, recognize the fury and thirst within his heart, and consciously command his body to accept them.
This infinite clarity of mind gave him a sense of omnipotence.
But he knew very well that this was rely an illusion.
Leaving the Sanctum, Seth strolled through the military facility, his gaze falling upon Arthur and Dante, who were deep in discussion.
The Angel had taught them humility.
And the knight—the stern knight rarely showed emotion, solely dedicating himself to passing on the experience he possessed.
—
As a trinary system where the population had long remained under one hundred million, and planetary exports consisted of nothing more than assorted exotic rocks and bitter grapes, Baal held a transcendent status. Yet in reality, the Imperial administrative centers of this sector were all concentrated on the far wealthier Asphodel in the neighboring Hades system.
For the longest ti, the Departnto Administratum had found no reason to invest much energy into such a sparsely populated world.
This was especially true for Baal, the howorld of the Blood Angels. It was a place veiled in secrecy, isolated, yet revered as a holy site by countless Imperial citizens due to Sanguinius's transcendent legacy.
Therefore, it was not until today that the Imperial departnt officially established a presence on this planet.
It was hard to imagine that before the expeditionary fleet arrived at Baal, there had not even been a Munitorum office here.
"I need a Cadian Shock Troops reserve regint. These are the coordinates where we can station them."
Approaching the conscription desk, the Commissar addressed the official in charge.
The route of the expeditionary fleet could not be hidden. Aside from specific strategic deploynts, the commanders had no intention of concealing their movents. Within the borders of the Imperium, no faction could defeat such a fleet.
"Understood."
The young official at the office glanced up at the Commissar, his eyes lingering on the Star of Terra for a mont before he began leafing through his docunts.
Half an hour later, he said, "We will allocate them from the new batch of reinforcents. They should be available for resupply at Aemula in about twelve years."
Twelve years. The expeditionary fleet would be disbanded by then.
"I need the resupply now."
Relying on his mory, the Commissar stated, "Eleven years ago, Bushlin in southern Baal dispatched two reserve regints to be stationed. Knowing the efficiency of the Munitorum, I assu they have not yet been redeployed."
The young official did not argue. He retrieved the data as fast as he could.
Three hours later—
'Huh? They actually are still there.'
"Yes, they are currently on garrison duty. They should be able to provide five thousand replacents."
Being responsible, the young official made a sticky note to make the next retrieval faster.
"I want twenty thousand."
The Commissar spoke seriously. The numbers of the reserve forces far exceeded those of standard Astra Militarum regints. They lacked any standout regintal traits, and their daily duties involved garrisoning Imperial Hive Cities or civilized worlds, ready to replenish any passing Astra Militarum regints.
"Isn't that a bit too greedy?"
the young official asked tentatively.
"This is the requirent of the expeditionary fleet."
"The Adeptus Astartes have no right to interfere with Munitorum personnel deploynts."
the young official replied earnestly.
"..."
'Unbelievable, what a greenhorn.'
Noticing the converging stares of the surrounding Adeptus Astartes, the Commissar could not help but massage his temples.
'Kid, do you want to take a look at where your departnt is stationed? It's right in the face of the Baal Secundus monastery.'
"I believe I have the authority to interfere with Munitorum personnel deploynts."
Just as the Commissar was about to smooth things over for the boy, Aglaia's voice rang out from behind him.
The young Inquisitor stood before the official, the Rosette swaying on her chest glaringly conspicuous.
"Am I wrong?"
The young official swallowed hard, never having imagined that he would witness such a grand spectacle on the very first assignnt of his life.
"It is only proper."
His attitude instantly pulled a one-hundred-and-eighty-degree turn.
"Twenty thousand troops. Cadians."
the Commissar reminded him.
"Of course."
'Since it is the Inquisitor's demand anyway, I will not have to take the bla.'
"We will do our utmost to fulfill the request."
With this matter settled, the Commissar patiently waited before expressing his gratitude to Aglaia. "Thank you, Lord Inquisitor."
Next, he needed the Munitorum to process the pension issues. With the intimidation factor of the Inquisition, it would likely go much faster.
"You are welco."
Aglaia subconsciously responded in the manner of the Transmigrators, causing a few more beads of sweat to form on the young official's forehead, before she turned and walked away.
She certainly did not find running an errand and showing her face to resolve an issue troubleso. In fact, she wished there were more of these effortlessly solvable problems.
At the thought of the Pierrede report the Archmagos had demanded she revise, Aglaia felt a wave of agony. Pressing her hands to her head, she couldn't help but vigorously rub her long, silky blonde hair, snagging and pulling out a few strands in the process.
She had already sent the report out, only for the Archmagos to drop a line not long ago: "I need you to fabricate the fact that Pierrede was severely corrupted by Chaos and subsequently dragged into a star to be destroyed."
It completely invalidated a report that had burned through countless brain cells to produce.
If her investigations had not led her to suspect that this Archmagos nad Belisarius Cawl was likely a historical master of soul amalgamation, a successor to Magos Hester Asperitia Sigma-Sigma, making him incredibly botherso to kill, Aglaia would have already planned to assassinate the Archmagos.
But now...
Aglaia stared at the report with a face full of despair.
'I can't kill him, and trying would probably cost my own life. What else can I do?'
'Get to work, I suppose.'
Why couldn't everyone in this world be as easy to serve as Lord Arthur?
"I need to apologize to you."
Having waited patiently for Arthur to finish leading the Angel's progeny through several combat drills, and having arranged affairs for the Mortals, Dante looked at the dutiful knight who continuously tried to impart everything he knew to others, and spoke.
"When I first t you, I thought you were as aloof and neurotic as your comrades. I have always harbored a prejudice against you."
The knight's initial appearance had been ill-tid, directly stumbling upon the little secret of the Angel's progeny.
"But after spending this ti together, I have found you to be a warmhearted and incredibly patient person. Even I rarely cast my gaze upon Mortals."
"From my perspective, there is no difference between the Adeptus Astartes and Mortals."
Arthur replied, "They need guidance, they need care. In fact, many Adeptus Astartes have forgotten these mories, but this transmission of knowledge, experience, and emotion is essential."
"I only hope that those who receive my teachings can pass this patience onward."
The knight was selfless and not well-versed in refusing others. It seed that as long as a request was reasonable, he would do his utmost to fulfill it, much like how he tirelessly ntored those Blood Angels.
He would silently watch over you, offering help precisely when it was needed.
"...I feel like you are my mother."
Dante's words were astonishing.
"?"
Arthur tilted his head back in confusion.
"When I was young, my father was always very gentle with . He told stories and played gas with ."
"My mother, however, was very strict. She saw as a continuation of her life, hoping to teach everything she knew while she still drew breath. Whenever I wasn't studying, she would quietly watch ."
Dante elaborated. He could sense that these lords were not very old, yet their personalities were exceptionally mature and complete.
It was as if these lords had seen through the brokenness of the vast majority of people in this world, and they would invariably slip into the role of educators.
And for most life forms in this universe, the only beings capable of such selflessness were, in the vast majority of cases, parents.
Only parents would do everything in their power to provide a better environnt for their children to grow up in. No matter how harsh the circumstances, they harbored the highest hopes for their children, offering them as much warmth and care as possible throughout their upbringing.
Only parents believed that their children would surpass them, and thus selflessly imparted all they had, hoping they would achieve greater heights.
Even for Dante, his perception of parents consisted only of these two archetypes.
'Oh, it was a taphor.'
"Then you should thank my mom and dad."
Arthur let out a sigh of relief, then continued the conversation without reservation.
The Warhamr universe was truly an extre place. Many individuals experienced fragnted upbringings, to the extent that Transmigrators could quickly find their footing when dealing with Imperial citizens, especially the Adeptus Astartes.
"Just as you should thank your father."
"?"
Dante turned his head in confusion, only to realize the black-clad knight had vanished at so point.
"My father?"
Dante murmured softly. He wasn't sure how this Dark Angel knew of his past—perhaps such information was commonplace to them—and then he thought of his battle-brothers who possessed no pasts of their own.
"Indeed, I should thank my father."
Dante's eyes shone increasingly bright. In that mont, he seed to grasp a glimr of the future of the Blood Angels.
His father, Areus, had struggled to keep their family alive in an extre environnt, showing love to his son. His mother had passed early, leaving behind her drive to pass on her essence to her child. Coupled with the cruel reality of the salt wastes, these were the elents that had forged his unyielding, highly responsible character.
Compared to his brothers who lacked a past, he was truly fortunate.
He had received one of the few positive rewards acknowledged by this universe—
That a sufficiently warm and beautiful past could forge a powerful personality.
This was sothing no amount of hypno-indoctrination could ever achieve.
—
"..."
The Dawn, secret cargo hatch.
Cawl inspected the cargo delivered to him by Romulus. Among the items were the surveillance devices he had discreetly planted all over the ship through various ans after coming aboard.
Now, they had all been returned from their placent spots, neatly stacked inside an equipnt storage box.
The most crucial thing was the ssage left on the surveillance equipnt box.
[chanical Shell Designation 1712 (Type II Personality Carrier Shell) - Date of Manufacture: 626m416.13 - Upti: 19,232 Terran Hours]
'They actually knew?'
Cawl drew in a sharp breath.
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