Chapter 112: The Reason to Advance
Hearing Karna's heartfelt words, not just Dante, but even the grim and serious Mephiston's expression, after he had used all his psychological and psychic experience and found not a single flaw, softened considerably, like ice melting in early spring. He silently squeezed the hilt of his sword, a bit embarrassed by his own relentless psychic probing.
The current state of the Blood Angels was dire. They didn't know if tomorrow or disaster would arrive first.
"This is the proposal. It fully respects the culture of Baal's native inhabitants. The hive-world area for population growth will be isolated from the garden areas and will be equipped with various agricultural production modules. Theoretically, it can ensure Baal has the capacity to support a population of fifty billion. The industrial world is preliminarily planned for Baal Prime, and Baal Secundus will serve as a celestial fortress."
Romulus, at the opportune moment, pulled a data-drive and a stack of paper documents from his satchel, presenting the pre-prepared redevelopment plan. This was the most suitable version he had selected, based on his judgment of the meeting's progress.
The transmigrators didn't pay too much mind to the Blood Angels' vigilance. Although for a mortal, the wariness and probing of an Astartes was indeed a disaster, given the huge gap between them, from their perspective—to be honest, it was a bit like watching a group of children with congenital defects, who yearned for their gene-sire's teachings of beauty, but had been tormented by this dark universe until their nerves were raw, and were now desperate for salvation. It naturally inspired a sense of compassion.
They weren't like those zealots from the Dark Angels. If the transmigrators had run into those green-armored guys, they would have definitely had Arthur cut them all down before talking about anything else.
Dante took the proposal, his eyes quickly scanning the text and diagrams. It was mostly about civil construction. Any proposals for military facilities were prefaced with the note that they were merely suggestions. His eyes moved rapidly across the pages, his superhuman brain quickly processing and learning the detailed data, and the benefits these changes would bring.
The council chamber was silent, only the rustling of paper echoing in the air. The sunlight, filtering through the stained-glass windows, shone on the documents in Dante's hands, plating the dense text with a golden sheen.
"..."
Dante was silent for a moment, a thoughtful look on his face.
To be honest, this kind of development plan, which included all three of Baal's worlds, touched upon a blind spot in his knowledge. Because he had never thought that Baal and its moons could have so many possibilities. After all, it had been this way for ten thousand years.
Besides the honor of being Sanguinius's homeworld, could Baal's other functional roles really be improved?
"A Chapter homeworld has special tax exemptions. The wealth brought by the massive influx of pilgrims to the shrine, while ensuring the people's livelihood, will also flow into the Chapter's coffers. And besides the flagellants, most of those who can make a pilgrimage are Imperial nobles. That kind of political capital is also worth cultivating," Romulus explained simply, seeing Dante's doubt. His words carried an unquestionable confidence, as if these changes were a matter of course.
"A large population can also provide higher quality recruits, including for the Planetary Defense Force, and provide the labor for improving industrial strength and operating the fortress."
"Excuse me, my Lord," a Blood Angels captain asked Romulus after getting Dante's permission, his voice tinged with confusion, clearly not understanding these proposals. "What use is this wealth and political capital to us?"
"..."
Not just the transmigrators, but even the other Space Marines and mortal representatives who were listening in had strained expressions. They hadn't noticed it before, since the Blood Angels were in fact quite reclusive and were rarely seen in joint operations. But now, looking at their operational capabilities... there was certainly a lot of room for improvement.
Drakus, who was standing behind Romulus, glanced at Sarpedon, who was standing behind Karna. The thirteen Crimson Paladins felt that if they weren't wearing Tartaros Terminator armor, they would have been so embarrassed they could have carved a statue of Sanguinius on the floor with their toes.
After ten thousand years, have the sons of the Angel degenerated to the point where they know nothing but fighting?
"Hiss~"
Romulus took a deep breath, organized his thoughts, and began to patiently explain to the Blood Angels. His voice held a hint of helplessness, but more of a sense of responsibility.
Why were there so many oddballs among the Blood Angels' successor Chapters? A major reason was that the parent Chapter had no ecological advantage over its successors and could not restrain their behavior. This also led to a lack of close ties after the split.
Look at the Ultramarines. With Ultramar in hand, they would forever occupy the top of the Ultramarines' ecological chain. Their transcendent political, military, and economic status naturally created a centripetal force for their successors.
Look at the Dark Angels. The structure of the Inner Circle, from the Legion era, was still preserved in M41. Members from every successor Chapter had a seat in it. They were split, but not really. The only difference was that their numbers were much smaller than in the Legion era.
And look at the Imperial Fists. The political status of being the guardians of Terra was self-evident. The Black Templars were also on a galaxy-spanning crusade, and after ten thousand years, there were few factions that didn't owe them an honor-debt. Plus, there was the Feast of Blades, a regularly held dueling tournament, a place for the various Chapters to exchange feelings and culture.
As one of the partners of the Imperium Secundus, and also without a Primarch, the Blood Angels had had it the worst. The only ones who could compare were the completely broken Iron Hands. And the Iron Hands didn't have the charisma to make the Four Gods constantly think about them. They were basically just playing their own game of tribal conflict around their homeworld of Medusa.
Often, the wealth you possess may not be of use to you at the moment, but that doesn't mean others can't use it.
If a successor Chapter is in trouble on the other side of the galaxy, you can just flip through your contact list, make a psychic phone call to the local Administratum officials or Imperial nobles, and ask them to take care of them.
If a successor Chapter suffers a great loss, you can also use your wealth to help them purchase a fleet, replenish their personnel, and so on. Slowly, won't the ties between the successor and the parent Chapter become closer?
The reason the Ecclesiarchy had so much money they didn't know what to do with it, and ended up being treated like a piggy bank by the various factions of the Imperium, was because the Ecclesiarchy was not allowed to have its own male armed forces.
Although the Astartes Chapters were restricted by the Codex, the parent Chapters actually had a lot of loopholes they could exploit. A parent Chapter could do things that many successor Chapters couldn't, acting as a pillar for their relatives. Slowly, wouldn't they gain a greater voice?
To be honest, the successor Chapters that were willing to deal with the Blood Angels did so not out of respect for the Blood Angels' status, but out of respect for Dante as a person.
Romulus chose his words carefully, preventing certain heretical statements from being said in public, and explained in as much detail as possible the benefits that this series of reforms could bring. He felt like he was teaching a group of students who knew nothing.
It was absurd...
"From a governance perspective, I think Lord Guilliman did the right thing," Drakus said to Sarpedon, having sent a private chat request to Romulus and received a positive reply. "The aspirants for the Ultramarines are selected through an educational process. After completing a normal compulsory education, they are then selected from boys around the age of twelve and enter a military academy for systematic study."
"This way, even if they ultimately fail the Astartes selection, these students, who have already proven themselves, can still serve as high-quality soldiers, officers, and administrative personnel in various social strata."
During the 30k era, Guilliman did not like the Ultramarines to call him "father," because after becoming an Astartes, the Ultramarines did not sever their past social networks. They even had the chance to visit their relatives. Guilliman had always advocated that the Astartes should integrate with humanity and lead the mortals forward, not separate themselves from them.
But look at the Blood Angels now. Besides fighting and recruiting, the only interaction they had with mortals was probably drinking the blood of their thralls.
Another tragedy with a classic Warhammer flavor.
"Not all worlds are as prosperous as Ultramar," Sarpedon said, shaking his head. Before the Battle of Calth, the average human lifespan in greater Ultramar had reached ninety years. No other Primarch's domain could compare.
"That's why you have to develop it," Drakus replied, feeling a sincere sympathy for his cousin's current state. "Ultramar was also just a loose confederation that struggled to deal with Eldar Corsair raids at first." He then added, as if to remind Sarpedon that the glory of Ultramar was not built in a day.
"Yes, you're right. After father returns, he will surely want to see a more beautiful Baal," Sarpedon said. He had no objections to the redevelopment plan for Baal, his words filled with hope for the future. Even a being as insignificant as a speck of dust like him could be resurrected. Then what about Sanguinius, his own gene-sire?
His time in the Legion of the Damned was a blur. Because the Emperor had always rejected his own true nature, the memories of these warriors of their time in the Warp were not very clear, as if they had just been asleep.
"..."
Drakus wisely did not take the bait. He had died relatively late and knew a bit more about what had happened on the Vengeful Spirit. Combined with his encounter with the Daemon Primarch Fulgrim and his understanding of Chaos, he was personally pessimistic about the chances of Sanguinius, who had died at the hands of Horus, being resurrected.
The conversation between the two fell silent again, until the night of Baal arrived.
"There should be... no more problems, right?" Romulus asked, running a hand through his hair, a bit embarrassed. These Angels asked too many questions, and the questions were not very sophisticated. Romulus was beginning to understand what it felt like to be a teacher.
Of course, he didn't mind. The fact that the Angels were asking so many questions showed that they were interested and that they were taking this matter seriously. This was a good thing. He couldn't discourage their enthusiasm.
"If Lord Dante agrees, the Ecclesiarchy can undertake the duty of developing Baal," Arabella said at the opportune moment. "I can be responsible for communicating with the local church. The Order will also report on the Ecclesiarchy's actions in real-time. The doctrine will be written entirely around Sanguinius. The authority of the Blood Angels over Baal should not be questioned."
The Ecclesiarchy could turn a barren pilgrimage planet without an atmosphere into a Shrine World in just five years, let alone a planet that carried the honor of Sanguinius. As long as the Blood Angels gave the word, the Ecclesiarchy would pay out of its own pocket to arrange this planet exactly as the Blood Angels wished.
"The Black Templars can spread the word," the High Marshal replied. Their crusade fleets were everywhere. Helping to promote Baal was a small matter.
"The Adeptus Mechanicus can assist with the industrial construction," the Archmagos said, looking at the transmigrators.
"But the relics..." a Sanguinary Priest hesitated, clearly reluctant to put the relics their father had left them on display. These were the last treasures Sanguinius had left for his sons.
"Leave the relics to us. Since we made the request, we will be responsible for it," Karna said, casually taking out a small box and pushing out a feather that was resting inside.
It was a pure white feather, floating on a bed of silk. It had no light source of its own, yet it radiated a soft golden glow.
"???"
Not just the Blood Angels, even the eyes of the Crimson Paladins behind Karna were fixed on it.
This was a feather of Sanguinius.
The feeling from their bloodline and their souls told them that this could not be wrong, unless they were not the sons of Sanguinius.
"Wait, where did this thing come from?" Romulus asked, looking at his partner.
Ramesses shrugged and gestured with his eyes towards the direction of the Sanguinor, who was still watching the show. This guy knows his limits. He knows that if he had shown himself, there would be no way to clean up the mess.
"?" Romulus tilted his head in confusion.
Oh, right. Romulus can't see him.
"The Sanguinor gave me access to everything related to Sanguinius," Ramesses replied. "Things with a bloodline and Warp-resonance are expensive, but they can still be made."
After all, as long as something existed in the physical universe, for the transmigrators, it was just a matter of "how much."
"...I have no further objections, Lord Karna." The Sanguinary Priest wanted to say that such a precious relic should be permanently sealed in the labyrinth, but he didn't seem to have the authority to decide how the elders would arrange their relics.
And so, the Blood Angels whispered among themselves for a while, then all followed Dante's gaze and looked at Karna.
'What are you looking at me for?'
Karna, who had been trying to lower his presence, stood up straight and looked at Dante with a serious expression.
"We have only stated what we can provide. The important thing is you. Whether you have the courage to venture into the unknown. Whether you wish to make a change—"
A light shone in the eyes of the Blood Angels. A single statement, a heartfelt expectation. The expectation of a transmigrator who had witnessed a better world, for a group of pitiable warriors worthy of being saved, hoping they could become better.
"If you are willing to accept, then we can, of course, walk this path together."
"We agree!" the Blood Angels all nodded.
"..."