The Webway.
A small Salamanders fleet was sailing forward.
Not long ago, Vulkan had followed the Imperium's reception personnel and left the Korvax disaster zone.
The Black Tide there had already been brought fully under control. All that remained was reconstruction work, and it did not require a Primarch to stand guard.
Before leaving, however, Vulkan had taken down the contact information of Olk and the other forging assistants.
Once matters were settled, he might summon them again and teach them some finer craft techniques.
That was his promise.
Olk and the other technical workers had been fortunate enough to gain the favor of the Lord of the Salamanders. Their fates would change completely.
"Is this what Father pursued so desperately?"
On the observation deck of the battle barge Flameforge, Vulkan gazed at the distant scene and murmured.
The sight before him shook him deeply.
On both sides of the battle barge stood towering walls with no end in sight.
They were all composed of blessed metal, blackstone, and mysterious mist. Complex patterns covered their surfaces like some kind of pictographic script.
"My lord, this is the key that allows us to defeat the Dark King and achieve prosperity.
"The Webway is like a network of capillaries embedded within the Warp. It can deliver the nutrients and supplies humanity needs to every region of the galaxy."
Sa'kan spoke those words.
The Salamanders captain had rushed over to accompany his gene-father as soon as he heard of his return.
Even though he had traveled through the Webway many times, he was still awed by this grand creation.
It was humanity's hope.
"Our Webway is still expanding. Countless distant nodes are spread throughout it. Time and space have been compressed, and a single step can cross hundreds of light-years."
Sa'kan looked out at the many luminous tunnels stretching all the way to the edge of his vision, and his eyes filled with even greater longing.
"Once the node clusters we are building spread across the entire galaxy, even distances of tens of thousands of light-years can be crossed with ease. Humanity will be able to reach any place.
"As His Majesty the Savior said, the galaxy will lie beneath our feet. Humanity will be able to stroll through the galaxy as easily as wandering through its own garden.
"Our fleets and our warriors will also be able to ignore the distance of time and space, guarding the Imperium's territories and removing the heretics and xenos that obstruct humanity's path."
He turned his head and spoke respectfully.
"My lord, after this campaign ends, you may visit Dawn City. It is the most prosperous city of humanity, and also the new Throneworld.
"Its scale has long surpassed Holy Terra. It is nearly equivalent to all the planets of the entire Sol System combined.
"We humans now possess a Throneworld that will never fall."
Over these years, the continuous supply of resources from the entire Imperium and many other races had allowed Dawn City to expand to a shocking degree.
Sa'kan still vaguely remembered his first time arriving in Dawn City. He had been deeply shaken by that city, which was more vast and prosperous than any planet.
The lights of those towering, unparalleled structures could illuminate an entire star system, and countless ships flowed through them like streams.
Between one district and another, dense networks of small Webway passages connected everything. By taking high-speed trains and grav-vehicles, people could use the Webway express routes to reach another building thousands or even tens of thousands of kilometers away.
As for the population, was it in the quadrillions? Tens of quadrillions?
He could no longer remember.
The buildings of Dawn City had already grown so immense that each one was equal to a complete world, with an ecosystem built into it.
Between the terraces of the buildings were one large park and residential district after another. People lived within the layered structures as if they were on land.
The newest resort hotels built by the Rida Garden World Group had even constructed seas and mountains inside the buildings, simulating perfect climates and ecosystems.
They allowed loyal citizens and warriors who had devoted themselves to the Imperium to receive the best rest and recuperation.
More importantly, the core departments of the Imperium that had originally been on Holy Terra were now gathered together and connected to every major star sector.
Hundreds of billions of administrative personnel could operate within the system without obstruction. The governors who ruled the various worlds and star sectors could also regularly arrive at the capital to report on their duties and undergo rotation.
By building Dawn City and pushing through reforms, His Majesty the Savior had given the Imperial center unprecedented control over its territories. Power had become more centralized than ever before.
The efficiency of the Imperial administrative system had also increased by hundreds or thousands of times, perhaps even more.
As for why the efficiency had increased by such an absurd amount, of course it was because the efficiency of Holy Terra in the Old Imperium had been utterly terrible.
In the past, a single administrative procedure might have outlived several former Imperial governors before it was completed.
Now, for some simple administrative matters, a governor might submit the report in the morning and have the issue resolved by afternoon.
Of course, the deployment speed of the Inspectorate's Inquisitors was also much faster. Perhaps a report would be received today, and by tomorrow the administrative official involved would be in a dark room, wearing shackles and weeping as he recorded a confession video.
That was the efficiency of the New Imperium.
"It is hard to imagine that the Imperium has undergone such changes…"
Vulkan silently listened to the captain's account and, for a time, found himself at a loss for words.
Perhaps it was precisely this Imperial administrative system and transportation efficiency that had allowed humanity to withstand the destruction unleashed by the Dark King instead of falling into chaos and suffering amid the upheaval.
"Dawn City."
Vulkan spoke the name, and a trace of anticipation rose in his heart.
If possible, he wanted to go see that grandest city of humanity right now. He wanted to see that new Throneworld and see how it had changed the entire Imperium.
The Lord of the Salamanders' understanding of humanity's fate gradually grew clearer. It was no longer like before, when he could see no future and only stared into a dark fog.
His mind suddenly opened.
Was this not the Imperial Truth the Emperor had pursued?
Perhaps the Savior could complete the Emperor's unfinished work and allow humanity to truly become the master of the galaxy.
"Unfortunately, I still cannot go there yet."
Vulkan thought of something, and his brow furrowed again.
He thought of Terra. He thought of that fallen father.
The kind-hearted Lord of the Salamanders did not know how he should face that father, nor did he dare imagine where this campaign might end.
If the Dark King won, that would be the worst possible outcome. Humanity's only prosperity and hope would be utterly destroyed.
But if the Imperium won, how would the Savior and the Primarchs handle the fallen Emperor?
Would they suppress him completely, or drive a blade into him and end the life of the Master of Mankind? Perhaps he had already died long ago.
Vulkan took a deep breath and did not continue thinking about it.
He had no way to make that choice, and he did not have the right to make it either.
The Emperor's final fate would mainly depend on the decision of that Savior, the Emperor of the Imperium.
He felt that no ambitious and idealistic Imperial Emperor would hope for the Emperor to survive and regain his freedom.
This involved supreme power.
If the Dark King truly died, the black sun vanished, and the Emperor regained his freedom and could once more walk among mortals, then who would rule the Imperium?
Would the Emperor change his mind and once again govern humanity, leading mankind in the direction he desired?
That was something no one could predict, and it could become the fuse that ignited a human civil war.
"Even if we win this campaign, humanity may still face new chaos and division."
In Vulkan's mind surfaced the Emperor's tyrannical image: imperious, commanding, and allowing no argument.
Even if that father had formed some desire to retire while upon the Golden Throne and was willing to hand over the power in his grasp, there was no guarantee he would not change his mind.
He was humanity's strongest warrior. He was a Perpetual. His endless lifespan gave him more than enough time and opportunity to alter his decision.
"Perhaps the Savior is more suited to leading humanity. At least for now."
The thought suddenly surfaced in Vulkan's mind, and he felt ashamed of it.
He had not chosen to support his father, nor did he hope his father would sit upon the throne again. That would not be good for humanity.
In the end, that father was too obsessed with war, and many of his decisions were too extreme.
And so, the Lord of the Salamanders decided that if the situation changed, he would stand on the Savior's side and do his best to prevent that father from retaking the throne.
Even if doing so went against the Emperor's will and was somewhat unfilial.
In his view, humanity needed a peaceful and merciful Emperor of the Imperium.
If anyone who truly understood the Savior knew what Vulkan was thinking, they would probably laugh at his ignorance of the Savior.
No one was more extreme or more militaristic than this Emperor of the Imperium.
It was merely that the Savior's wealth and generosity had, to a certain extent, concealed all of this, making this Emperor of the Imperium appear overly peaceful and merciful.
"Perhaps only the Savior could create a scene of such prosperity…"
Vulkan looked at the endless stream of ships moving through the Webway and thought this to himself.
Within the visible region of the Webway, ships came and went. The honor banners and streamers fluttering among them were deeply inspiring.
The Lord of the Salamanders could feel the vigorous life here. Humanity had not bowed its head before disaster. Everything was operating in orderly fashion.
The Imperium was so united, so full of vitality.
He believed no heretic or xenos could break humanity.
Vulkan watched the bustling scene within the Webway with great interest. He liked this state of life and vitality.
Compared with seeing humanity conquer the stars, he preferred seeing humanity build, and seeing humans help one another.
The Imperium's disaster-relief engineering teams would use the Webway, this network of capillaries, to reach every disaster zone.
They would bring salvation there, and the hope of reconstruction.
"We must protect the Webway. We must never allow any xenos or heretic to lay a finger on it!"
Vulkan suddenly said this to Sa'kan, his tone grave.
Even though he disliked war and slaughter, he would not allow xenos and heretics to seize the Webway, nor to seize humanity's hope.
Any xenos or heretic that dared invade the Webway deserved judgment.
Yet in the next instant, a roar that did not belong to humanity rang out.
When Vulkan heard it, his pupils contracted sharply.
He turned and saw the being that had let out the roar. His eyes nearly split with rage as his voice slowly forced its way out of his throat.
"Xenos… Orks?!"
The battle barge had only just entered a remote Webway route when they saw the presence of Greenskin structures.
A towering scrap-metal fortress belched thick black smoke, and atop the platform at its peak stood an extremely massive Ork.
He was more than five meters tall, a full head taller than Vulkan himself, and his whole body radiated an intense sense of menace.
Waaagh!!!
The Greenskin leader bared his savage tusks and roared toward the battle barge, spittle flying. More Greenskins also began to move.
Vulkan stared at the Greenskin leader. His black, tower-like body tensed, muscles swelling, and a thunderstorm gathered in his eyes.
The instant he saw the enemy, he thought of the Beast, the Greenskin warlord who had built the Attack Moons and nearly conquered Terra.
And this Greenskin leader before him was no weaker than the Beast. If such a being was allowed to develop and spread inside the Webway, it would be an utterly terrifying matter.
"Die, xenos!"
Vulkan's stress response triggered on the spot.
He drew his great hammer and was about to jump down and fight the Greenskin leader to the death, lest the creature escape.
Everyone knew how terrifyingly fast Greenskins could spread.
The Lord of the Salamanders already knew how important the Webway was to humanity.
He would rather give everything than lose this most precious treasure of mankind and allow it to be occupied by xenos.
"My lord, don't! My lord, don't!"
Sa'kan and the other Salamanders captains and high-ranking warriors were terrified when they saw this.
They hurried forward and desperately held back their gene-father.
"These Greenskins are not enemies! They are Webway laborers raised by His Majesty the Savior! They are on our side!"
Sa'kan and the other Salamanders used almost all the strength they had accumulated over their lives, afraid their gene-father would jump down and start a fight with the Greenskin leader.
That was a Greenskin nest. If a fight broke out, it would be troublesome.
More importantly, if their gene-father was injured, or if he beat the Greenskin leader to death or crippled him and affected the expansion and construction of the Webway, how would the Salamanders Legion explain it to His Majesty the Savior?
"You are saying these Greenskin xenos are the Savior's… laborers?"
Vulkan finally stopped. He was still breathing slightly hard, and he still found it difficult to believe what his gene-sons were saying.
It was far too absurd.
At that moment, within everyone's field of view, the Greenskin leader and the high-ranking Greenskins did not launch an attack. Instead, after roaring, they lowered their heads and saluted.
Some Greenskins dressed in tailcoats even performed noble etiquette, appearing extremely refined and cultured.
Of course, they were not saluting Vulkan and the Salamanders.
They were saluting the Savior's honor banner hanging from the battle barge.
The dark-gold honor banner was hundreds of meters long, and on it was the Savior's majestic image.
The Greenskins had recognized Boss Eden's banner on the humie ship, so naturally they eagerly offered their worship.
That way, they would avoid angering the brutal and cunning Boss Eden and being eaten.
Vulkan looked at the Orks who were saluting, and even kneeling on the ground with their backsides raised in deep respect, and began to believe his gene-sons' words.
When the battle barge passed through the Webway construction zone, he saw dense masses of Greenskins working hard, grunting as they poured concrete.
"No slacking!"
"If you won't work, plenty of other Greenskins will! Boss Eden'll eat you!"
The Greenskin overseers gripped their whips and lashed the labor boyz who were not working hard enough.
After that, Vulkan even saw a human administrative official furiously scolding a group of high-ranking Greenskins, saying they were slacking off and cutting corners, and that he would report them to Boss Eden.
That terrified the high-ranking Greenskins so badly that they trembled and could barely stand.
At the end of the construction site stood a statue of Boss Eden several hundred meters tall.
In the statue, Boss Eden was explosively muscular. He was biting into a Greenskin leg while swinging a whip to lash the kneeling Greenskins.
Greenskins were exactly like this. They had to be whipped hard and overawed before they would offer respect.
If you treated Greenskins well, they would only think you were weak and easy to bully, then start rebelling.
Greenskins obeyed only the strong who were brutal, fierce, and cunning. The stronger you were, and the harder you beat them, the more servile they became, and the more obedient.
Vulkan's head buzzed.
He had led the War of the Beast and deeply understood the strength and terror of the Greenskins, especially that warlord known as the Beast, who had nearly died together with him.
This group of Greenskins was not weaker than the Beast. In other words, if given the chance, they were entirely capable of fighting their way to the Sol System and even attacking Terra.
And yet now, these Greenskin xenos had all submitted to the Savior.
Vulkan took a deep breath.
He held the railing of the observation deck while listening to Sa'kan explain how the New Imperium handled xenos.
Only then did the Lord of the Salamanders learn that the Savior had conquered many xenos species, not only Greenskins, but also Tyranids, Drukhari, T'au, and others.
Those xenos had brought considerable assistance to the New Imperium.
After that, when Vulkan saw Tyranid splinter fleets transporting supplies and Drukhari sailing vessels, he no longer reacted with shock.
It was said that the Departmento Logistics was short on transport capacity, so it had xenos take part-time long-haul transport jobs to ease the Imperium's pressure.
But when Vulkan saw the garishly decorated, light-polluting Terror Warriors and daemons of the Terror Legion, he still fell silent.
The Lord of the Salamanders had not expected the Savior to also cultivate a Chaos army, or even allow it to swagger openly through the Webway.
How dangerous was that?
That Savior, that Emperor of the Imperium, seemed far more radical and extreme than the Emperor himself…
In truth, the Terror Legion had only come to earn some side income. As long as blood points were involved, they would do anything.
"Hurry up, keep up! If we run overtime, our blood points get docked!"
"There's a speed bump here. Damn it… the Greenskins dirtied my brand-new fixie!"
These gaudily decorated Terror Warriors and daemons raced through the Webway on their vehicles.
They nearly pushed their engines past the breaking point, and their cruising speed was much faster than that of the Imperium's ships.
These fellows mainly ran express deliveries along Warp routes, transporting urgently needed supplies.
After all, there were dark rifts inside the Warp too.
They needed disaster relief as well.
(End of Chapter)
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