The aircraft pierced through the cloud cover, revealing the bustling cityscape of Astorgius beyond the portholes.
Jorge manipulated the data terminal, providing the Primarch with a detailed briefing on the Planet's current status.
His explanations were remarkably thorough. Hundreds of Dialogus Sisters and Cardinals hurried through the archives, and whenever Romulus suddenly asked for a specific tric, the Archbishop could imdiately pull up the corresponding statistical docunt.
Romulus finally understood why this shuttle was so massive.
As the craft glided over a newly constructed energy production zone, Romulus suddenly asked a question.
"What was the Planet's prothium yield for the third quarter of this year?"
"Seventy-four point two billion tons, a quarter-over-quarter increase of twelve point three percent. It allows for a certain degree of export to supplent the Planet's food supplies."
Jorge answered without missing a beat, gesturing for an attendant to retrieve an even more detailed data spread from the labyrinthine database.
"However, the refinent efficiency is far below that of a standard Imperium industrial world. After losing the support of the Adeptus chanicus, the technology we can utilize is severely limited."
He carefully explained the difficulties they faced.
"The Dawn fleet will provide technical support."
The light from the projector flickered through the cabin, illuminating the faint trace of a smile on Romulus's lips.
This was how it should be. When a superior ca for an inspection, what was the point of throwing extravagant banquets or wallowing in fear? Presenting solid accomplishnts and a proper work ethic was infinitely more productive than those aningless theatrics.
The Nobles of the Imperium would rather continue reveling in their decadence. Even the few who understood what a Primarch truly represented feigned ignorance, or offered only symbolic concessions in a pathetic attempt to bargain, as if doing so could sohow help them escape their impending doom.
Romulus was no homicidal maniac. If soone genuinely wanted to change, why wouldn't he give them the chance to do so?
As long as they were willing to take action, any failure would rely be an error in thodology, rather than a fundantal flaw in their values.
Romulus noticed how the projector's light cast shifting shadows across the Archbishop's face, highlighting the deep-set wrinkles around his eyes.
The figures recited down to two decimal places, coupled with the way Jorge subconsciously pursed his lips whenever a problem was ntioned, served as silent proof of the Archbishop's profound understanding of the world he governed.
The supporting data also confird that the Archbishop was speaking the truth.
"Did you use Macragge as a reference for your Planet's developnt?"
Though Romulus maintained a polite, businesslike smile, Jorge could hear genuine approval in his tone.
"Yes, Macragge's self-sustaining ecosystem was a great source of inspiration for us."
The leather of his power seat creaked softly as the Archbishop stood to adjust the Holographic Projection of the local star system.
"As it happens, the Astorgius system contains two gas giants. The third moon of one of these giants possesses a perfect biosphere, capable of sustaining seventy-two point three percent of the Cardinal World's food consumption. Combined with a portion of imports, it can theoretically fulfill all our needs."
"I assu the real issue lies in distribution, then."
Romulus gave the data-printout in his hand a light tap, the heavy paper rustling crisply.
The volu of imported food clearly exceeded their stated requirents, yet it sohow never reached the populace.
Such problems were simply human nature. Even back in the twenty-first century, convenient fires burning down grain silos to hide deficits were all too common, and religious institutions were always breeding grounds for corruption.
"Indeed."
Jorge replied softly, his gaze lingering on the swarms of faithful believers moving far below.
The shuttle's massive shadow swept across the grand plaza, drawing the crowd's eyes skyward.
"And your governing philosophy?"
"The Sect of Saint Francisco has always advocated for justification by works."
Jorge turned to face him.
"We have tried to regulate the behavior of our congregation through doctrine, guiding them to better serve the God-Emperor, but the teachings of the Dawn have given new inspiration."
"Barbaric practices must be cast aside. Even with our limited resources, the Ecclesiarchy must pay closer attention to the welfare of the people."
The Archbishop declared.
"I believe that no matter how authoritarian the Imperium might be, it shouldn't resort to hoarding the very food the God-Emperor's subjects need to survive."
He recognized the glaring flaw in the system, and so he was determined to attempt a change.
Romulus smiled, his eyes sweeping over the world below. He was finding Astorgius more and more agreeable by the minute.
Taking the physical and ntal well-being of humanity seriously and actively seeking solutions, rather than dismissing complaints with self-righteous nonsense about a lack of faith.
It struck right at the heart of the issue. The Imperium might be short on many things, but it was absolutely not short on food. A regi could be as heavy-handed as it pleased, but failing to provide the bare minimum for sustenance was simply unacceptable.
It wasn't hard to deduce that the Imperial Cult had likely appointed this Archbishop specifically to cater to his preferences. But actions spoke louder than words; at the very least, they were willing to make the effort to appease him.
"What is your na, sir?"
"Jorge Francisco, my Lord."
The Bishop replied, his deanor Neither Haughty nor Humble.
"I will rember it."
Romulus nodded. He set the docunts aside and turned his full attention to observing the Planet.
Navarre Daren imdiately caught his aning, quietly adding Astorgius to the shortlist of candidates for the Sector capital.
"Hm? What is this..."
Romulus's pupils suddenly contracted. The formidable visual acuity of a Primarch projected the scene from the distant plaza with crystal clarity onto his retinas.
Far below, in a grand plaza thick with the haze of heavy incense, a short line of hunched figures was queueing up under the watchful eyes of the clergy.
However, what awaited them at the end of the path was not the daily communion distributed by the Imperial Cult, but a blazing pyre.
Clad in sacred robes, the figures, the vast majority of whom were elderly, stepped forward as the congregation watched in silent reverence.
Upon walking into the roaring flas, fire instantly engulfed their bodies. Yet, they showed no signs of agonizing pain from the mortal fire. They knelt peacefully amidst the inferno, expressions of absolute relief and salvation gracing their faces. Then, they ceased all movent, their physical forms slowly lting away.
Just outside the magnificent cathedral, pools of crystal-clear Holy Oil were slowly being mixed with the liquefied remains of the martyrs' bones.
Whenever one dared to harbor a sliver of hope for the Imperium, it was quick to deliver a brutal, resounding slap across the face.
"Archbishop Jorge, what exactly am I looking at?"
Having already been nauseated by the countless Imperial Nobles and just beginning to feel a glimr of optimism, Romulus felt a sudden surge of visceral disgust, though he suppressed it and kept his tone steady.
"They are extracting the Holy Oil."
The Archbishop's tone was as casual as if he were discussing the weather. He pointed toward a set of massive distillation apparatuses at the edge of the plaza, where monks in stark white robes were siphoning the rendered fat into sacred reliquaries.
"And this doesn't count as a barbaric practice?"
Romulus's voice betrayed a rare mix of sheer astonishnt and barely suppressed fury.
The Archbishop, in turn, looked slightly taken aback.
His brow furrowed, silently conveying the question: 'How is this a barbaric practice?'
"They are all rigorously vetted, fiercely devout believers. They—"
"Alright, could you please explain the reasoning behind this ritual?"
Rubbing his eyes, Romulus cut off the Archbishop's explanation and demanded a direct answer.
"The consecrated drops of oil are ritually anointed onto weapons by a Priest as a holy blessing. It is also mixed into pignts and inks to safeguard the Sanctum from unholy incursions, and to guarantee that sacred texts cannot be altered by foul ans,"
the Archbishop explained.
"And is it actually effective?"
Romulus pressed, "In fending off heresy and chaotic filth, for instance."
"It is."
The Archbishop nodded solemnly.
"The church screens for the most zealous believers every quarter. As a reward, their imdiate family mbers receive tax exemptions. The Holy Oil is a vital component of the Imperium's tithe system; a massive quota of it must be shipped back to the Throne World every single year."
'So it actually is the result of practical thodology?'
'Unbelievable.'
Romulus fell silent in thought. He had largely taken a hands-off approach to the Imperial Cult, trusting Karna to handle matters regarding Faith. He hadn't expected that the mont he decided to look closer, he'd be hit with sothing of this magnitude.
"Karna."
Opening a secure vox-channel, he contacted Karna, who was currently bogged down in diplomatic bickering with mbers of various sects.
"What is it?"
Karna asked, maintaining a flawless, serene smile while suppressing the violent urge to purge almost everyone in his imdiate vicinity.
Romulus swiftly recounted what he had just witnessed in the plaza.
"Ah, I was wondering where the Archbishop had scurried off to,"
Raising a hand to casually dismiss a rambling Cardinal, Karna replied. "Yes, this so-called Holy Oil is fundantally the sa substance used by the Grey Knights. Though the Grey Knights have better quality, they use actual Living Saints."
"Then how are you—"
"Think about the Saint's Blood we use to sign our docunts."
"Do you have enough Souls for that?"
Romulus questioned.
"Did you forget that the Blood Angels have a literal Holy Grail?"
Karna asked, incredulous, before quickly explaining,
"Master Arthur cracked the Sanguinary Priests' blood synthesis formula ages ago. We're practically mass-producing Sanguinius's blood now. Stamping a docunt with the Primarch's own vitae is infinitely more potent than the remains of any mundane Saint. There's zero need for this primitive extraction thod."
"So the Imperial Cult's human sacrifice ritual is utterly obsolete now, correct? We can substitute it completely."
Romulus pulled up his personal data-slate logs and noted that there had indeed been a brief report on this breakthrough.
'I need to fast-track the operations in the Hades System and Macragge to get them fully operational, then completely hand over the administrative reins. Dante and Calgar aren't getting off the hook that easily. No one gets to sit idle.'
He pinched the bridge of his nose. While his comrades were entirely trustworthy, he couldn't afford to be out of the loop on vital matters like this again.
"Absolutely. I've already issued the orders to phase it out, though a few heads will inevitably have to roll. The black market for Holy Oil is a massive, incredibly lucrative racket."
Karna replied smoothly.
"Check if the Archbishop has any requisition orders or docunts left. Master Arthur hasn't moved against him yet, which ans your guide is actually one of the reliable ones."
'So you and Arthur have been playing good-cop, bad-cop in the shadows this entire ti?'
'No wonder our religious reforms have been greeted with universal, enthusiastic applause without a single whisper of dissent.'
"Understood."
Reassured by his comrade's competence, Romulus severed the vox-link.
He let out a quiet sigh, gently channeling the newly departed Souls toward The Emperor.
The Emperor accepted them with a distinct sense of reluctance.
Faith was a toxic force. The sheer zealotry of these devout subjects was a crushing weight, endlessly forcing a being who claid to 'not be a god' ever higher onto a divine pedestal.
"Haa..."
'This damned, cursed universe.'
Romulus remained silent. It was a grim choice born out of the horrific realities of this galaxy. From a purely functional standpoint, it was brutally logical.
He then turned his attention back to the Archbishop.
"From now on, this is also deed a barbaric practice. It will be completely abolished."
It was ti to begin fully restructuring this Planet.
After all, it was a highly qualified candidate for a Sector capital. Its populace was resilient, and the local leadership was surprisingly cooperative.
"At once, Lord Romulus."
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