"That is exactly why we must break the monopoly."
Karna nodded in deep agreent.
He naturally understood the severity of the problem. Resources, technology, and military power were all firmly controlled by a small handful of factions, and they had to tear a hole in that iron grip.
"If you think there are no issues, I will sign it."
"Ask Romulus about non-military diplomacy."
Arthur replied.
"I have already asked all of them."
"Then it is settled."
"Alright. I will take advantage of the high volu of pilgrim ships arriving during this period to settle the first few orders."
Without the support of industrial worlds, they could only find another way. Soul materialization technology had beco the most convenient alternative at present. Although the cost was far higher than taking the ti to set up proper production lines, it could at least solve their urgent needs.
Thanks to the Imperial Cult being excessively wealthy, the equipnt and supplies they currently needed were cutting-edge goods like force-feedback armor. In terms of quality, using soul materialization to directly exchange for them was still acceptable.
If the Imperial Navy or the Chartered Fleets ca knocking, they really would have no way to accommodate them. The cost of generating ineffective mass was simply too high to be worthwhile.
However, these problems could all be resolved later.
Once they officially took over the Sector, everything would get on the right track.
The four of them were essentially walking industrial foundries. As long as the training of skilled workers kept pace, explosive production capacity was only a matter of ti.
"Also, the council has confird our base of operations will be located in the central Ultima Segntum. Well, it is now called the Dawn sub-sector. The Adeptus chanicus over there will probably cause trouble for us."
Karna pulled out another docunt. This was a partial consensus reached between Romulus and the representatives of the High Lords during their negotiations regarding the Adeptus chanicus problem.
The entire Galaxy had suffered under the Adeptus chanicus for too long. Although the High Lords had backed down during the council etings, the bias shown by the Imperial Cult conveyed a clear ssage.
At the very least, the Imperial Cult hoped the four Primarchs would erge victorious in this political gamble. Of course, they were also confident that they could afford to lose.
After all, they were the only organization within the High Lords of Terra to ever instigate a massive civil war within the Imperium.
During the Age of Apostasy, Goge Vandire had monopolized power, throwing the Imperium into absolute chaos. The destruction he caused far exceeded even Abaddon's first twelve Black Crusades.
Yet, the Imperial Cult did not decline because of this; instead, their status grew even more secure.
As for why the Imperial Cult was always able to maintain control over vital departnts within the Imperium through all its ups and downs...
The reason was quite simple.
Because in this wretched universe, the vast majority of Imperial citizens truly could only rely on Faith to survive.
However, the Imperial Cult was not completely inactive either.
Following Romulus's request, they had already begun relocating the Orders Dialogous and Orders Famulous—which trained administrative and servant Sisters within the Ultima Segntum—to the Shrine Worlds of the Dawn sub-sector.
These Sisters, having undergone rigorous education and loyalty training, were the highest-quality candidates for grassroots civil servants.
"As expected."
Arthur continuously reviewed various contingency plans in his mind.
If they wanted to cast off the Adeptus chanicus and develop independently, future conflicts between the two factions were inevitable.
The Wings of Dawn would never accept the presence of such a technological warlord within their territory, and the Adeptus chanicus would never allow their position—which had grown increasingly unassailable over the last ten thousand years—to be challenged.
anwhile, the High Lords were perfectly happy to fan the flas.
On one hand, they hoped the Primarchs could tear a hole in the Adeptus chanicus.
On the other hand, constrained by the fact that every facet of the Imperium now relied entirely on the chanicus, they could only provide every kind of support except actual, practical support.
Oh, they could still provide manpower. After all, the Imperium had so many people that the High Lords never really cared much about them.
Karna took the opportunity to flip through the various contingency plans. After all, he would be the one leading the troops into the fray when the ti ca.
After finishing, he could not help but suck in a cold breath.
"Are we going to build up our territory or go to war?"
"Building and fighting at the sa ti."
Arthur replied flatly.
"I feel like you are losing your sense of humor."
"My humor module has been occupied by the work system."
Arthur closed the encrypted text, the tal clasp making a crisp click. He raised his eyes to look at Karna and added expressionlessly, "I am very busy. I have no ti for humor."
"Your deadpan delivery of terrible jokes is still going strong."
Karna also knew the imnse pressure Arthur carried. He had always been the one responsible for holding the bottom line, and now he had to lead the scattered fragnts of the First Legion, constantly ready to declare war on the Adeptus chanicus.
"Ah, the First Legion..."
Karna's tone carried a hint of mockery.
Since ten thousand years ago, as the Imperium's military might expanded, those visible or invisible hands had begun greedily plundering the wealth that rightfully belonged to all of humanity.
The Dark Angels had been entrusted with a crucial mission by the Emperor, acting as the Sword of Damocles hanging over the heads of the Adeptus chanicus. In the end, before the blade could even drop a few tis, it was snapped by the Legion itself.
Nowadays, apart from knowing how to use the forbidden technology in their vaults and chasing Fallen Angels across the Galaxy, the Dark Angels had completely forgotten their true mission. Even their Tech-Marines had to go to Mars for training.
However, they had successfully managed to shift the Imperium's attitude toward the privileged class—from minimal containnt, to non-interference, and finally to outright protection and even indulgence.
This directly allowed this cancerous tumor to grow rapidly on their own body.
If the Lion had just taken one right step during the entirety of the Horus Heresy, they would not be facing such a situation right now.
In the past, when reading various literary works, one could always excuse the characters' flaws as serving the plot, criticizing the authors for not understanding reality.
But now that he was actually inside this world, staring at these tangled balls of yarn that could neither be cut nor untangled—and which threatened to strangle them alive—there were tis he truly wanted to throttle the absolute masterminds who caused all this.
These sses should not have been their responsibility in the first place. Yet now, after finishing off the Tyranid bugs, they had to start clearing landmines within the Imperium's internal structure.
"It will get better."
Arthur stood up. After Calgar and the various representatives of the successor Chapters submitted the opinions of their respective founding Chapters, Arthur presented another docunt.
"Regarding the Establishnt of a Training Frawork for Special Units Such as Librarians, Apothecaries, and Tech-Marines"
"Er, my Lord."
Calgar flipped through the series of spreadsheets and could not help but ask.
"Is not what you are doing a bit too obvious?"
What difference was there between doing this and directly slapping the Adeptus chanicus in the face?
"They do not care whether I show restraint; they only care whether I am strong."
If he was not obvious, how could he pull a violent institution like the Space Marines firmly into his grasp?
If a Primarch would not even fight to secure the strength of the Space Marines—the very extension of their will—how could anyone expect the Space Marines to willingly fight for them?
Arthur continued to give the various Space Marine Chapters a normal opportunity to discuss, and then gathered all their opinions.
The Adeptus Astartes conversed with one another efficiently.
It was primarily Arthur introducing the details of the training process to the Astartes.
For example, whether to allow Tech-Marines who had previously gone to Mars for training and believed in the Omnissiah to undergo retraining, or whether there were any specific Faith requirents for the trainees.
The Wings of Dawn believed in teaching without discrimination. As long as one could fight for humanity and still retained their loyalty, anyone was welco.
'I hope Lohr and the others can get ready soon.'
Arthur thought silently.
He had always felt that using the Astartes purely as weapons was a massive waste, and using the First Legion simply as weapons was the greatest waste of all.
The First Legion was a truly comprehensive template.
There was simply too much they could accomplish.
Genetics, industry, scientific research.
Starting with the Space Marines—the faction easiest for them to win over—the Wings of Dawn had to facilitate a complete decoupling between the forces under their control and the Adeptus chanicus.
In the grand council hall, Romulus observed the expressions of the representatives.
Without exception, they all showed surprise, seemingly utterly astonished by the Wings of Dawn's blatant disregard for treating the chanicus with any respect.
Sooner or later, they would all face the Iron Fist. The Adeptus chanicus, the local Nobles, and the vast majority of institutions within the Imperium—all these monopolistic organizations had to serve their proper functions under the strict control of a powerful centralized governnt.
Romulus recalled the postures of those children, a faint smile curling at the corner of his mouth.
——
'I knew it.'
Huron looked over the series of training proposals.
It was entirely designed to completely liberate the Space Marines, and even humanity as a whole, from the shackles of a certain monopolistic institution. Instead, they would be brought under the centralized managent of an authority level as high as the Primarchs. He could not help but smile.
Centralization—what a beautiful word. Countless ambitious individuals had attempted it, yet all had failed.
But now, the Primarchs were exploring, combining existing conditions to continuously forge an entirely new path.
What did his own minor sches amount to in comparison?
These were the true grandmasters playing the board.
——
"It seems there is still so ti before practical application."
Inside the towering tal edifice, Lohr, the Grand Master of the Dark Angels' Ironwing, gazed at the massive engine before him.
This engine encompassed nearly the entire rear storage bay of a battleship.
"This will be completed, no matter how much ti it takes."
Cawl calculated the engine's data.
The T'au Empire's Undercurrent Module was only just barely getting off the ground under the guidance of the Space Dwarfs. Although they had a theoretical prototype built upon the core principles, it was still a considerable distance away from actual application.
He stared at the engine. An inexplicable feeling told him that he was creating sothing entirely new.
Ten years? Ten thousand years? One could never know how much ti it would consu.
True exploration never bothered with deadlines. Just as the ancient sages had proclaid, the journey itself was where the true joy lay.
Yet his fellow tech-priests had long forgotten this fact.
They feared innovation, indulging themselves in blind replication, yet they constantly made errors in the very process of copying. They only had a half-baked understanding of the things they replicated, and never once considered creating sothing new.
'But I create.'
This thought surged dynamically through his complex neural circuits.
Anything could be improved. If it could no longer be improved, then sothing better should be created—this should have been the primary driving force behind human technology.
His colleagues were always lanting lost knowledge, exhausting their entire lives excavating relics of the past.
But they failed to comprehend that during the long, dark years, the most precious thing humanity had lost was not STC templates or ancient technology, but the very spirit of exploration and research.
Without it, science simply ceased to exist.
Those ignorant priests would never understand this, and they would surely execute him for uttering such words, but there was always soone different.
Cawl's gaze swept over the complex energy conduits on the engine's surface, where a faint blue luminescence pulsed.
At the other end of this hall of Steel, the first batch of Space Marines undergoing special unit training, along with outstanding skilled workers from various specialized fields within the Dawn fleet, began to gather. Under the systematic assignnts of the Dark Angels, they comnced a lengthy training program.
anwhile, aboard countless other ships, the educational system—which had been continuously improved and upgraded since the very mont they first t—was still running steadily, constantly outputting high-quality talent for the fleet.
The four Primarchs were forging a new order.
If initially Cawl held a slight grudge against the Wings of Dawn for acting as technological thieves, he had now completely let it go.
Because everything he created would not gather dust in the hands of the Wings of Dawn, nor would it be lost forever upon his death.
'They, too, are creating.'
Cawl's chanical eyes slightly contracted, permanently recording this mont into his core mory banks.
This was rely the beginning. In the future, from the mont they once again set foot into Space, there would be a continuous stream of challenges.
Whether the iron-fisted conservatives would continue to dominate the Imperium, or whether these daring, innovative souls could carve out a new path...
He would just have to watch and see who would win this ti.
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