Chapter 120: I Feel Like You're My Mom
Baal Secundus—
Before this, Seth had never thought that meditation could be so calming.
As he sat within the chapter-house, his eyes closed, feeling the warmth of the morning sun on his skin, his senses expanded without limit. In the dry wind, he could feel the pulse of the mortals' blood, could clearly recall the series of tactical knowledge he had learned, could recognize the rage and thirst within his own heart, and could consciously drive his body to accept it.
The infinite clarity of his mind gave him a sense of omnipotence.
But he knew very well that this was just an illusion.
Leaving the Sanctum, Seth strolled through the military facility and looked at Arthur and Dante, who were in the midst of a discussion.
The Angel had taught them humility.
And the knight, the serious knight who rarely showed emotion, just relentlessly passed on the experience he had mastered.
As a three-world system with a long-term population of less than one hundred million, whose planetary output was little more than various special types of rock and bitter grapes, Baal, despite its transcendent status, was not the administrative center of the Imperial sector. That honor belonged to the more prosperous world of Asphodel, in the neighboring Red Scar system.
For a long time, the Imperial Administratum had seen no need to invest much energy in such a sparsely populated planet. Especially Baal, the homeworld of the Blood Angels, a Chapter that was shrouded in secrets, a lone wolf, yet had become a holy place in the hearts of countless Imperial citizens due to the transcendent status of Sanguinius.
So it was only today that the Imperial departments had officially established a presence on this planet.
It was hard to imagine that before the arrival of the crusade fleet, there wasn't even a Departmento Munitorum office here.
"I need a Cadian Shock Trooper reserve force. These are the locations where we can garrison," the Commissar said to the official in charge, at the recruitment desk.
The crusade fleet's route could not be hidden. Aside from the specific strategic deployments, the commanders had no intention of hiding it. In the territory of the Imperium, there was no force that could defeat such a fleet.
"Understood." The young official at the office looked up at the Commissar, his gaze lingering for a moment on the Star of Terra, then began to look through the files.
Half an hour later, he said, "We will allocate them from the new batch of aid. We can probably provide reinforcements at Emra in about twelve years."
Twelve years. The crusade fleet would have been disbanded by then.
"I need reinforcements now," the Commissar said, relying on his own memory. "Eleven years ago, Bushlin, in the south of Baal, dispatched two reserve forces for garrison duty. I imagine, with the efficiency of the Munitorum, they have not yet been redeployed."
The young official did not argue, and looked through the files with the fastest speed he could muster.
Three hours later—
Huh? He's right.
"Yes. They are currently on garrison duty. They should be able to provide five thousand reinforcements." The responsible young official made a note to make the next search faster.
"I want twenty thousand," the Commissar said seriously. The reserve forces were far larger than the Astra Militarum regiments, had no outstanding regimental specialties, and their daily task was to garrison Imperial hive or civilized worlds and to reinforce passing Astra Militarum regiments at any time.
"Isn't that a bit too greedy?" the young official asked tentatively.
"This is a request from the crusade fleet."
"The Astartes have no right to interfere with the personnel deployments of the Munitorum," the young official replied seriously.
"..."
Unbelievable. A greenhorn.
The Commissar noticed the gazes of the surrounding Astartes converging on them and couldn't help but press a hand to his forehead.
Kid, do you see where your department's garrison is? It's right in the face of the Baal Secundus monastery.
"I believe I have the authority to interfere with the personnel deployments of the Munitorum," Aglaia's voice came from behind him. The young Inquisitor stood before the official, the rosette on her chest swaying conspicuously. "Correct?"
The young official swallowed hard. He had never imagined that the first case of his career would be such a grand scene.
"As it should be." His attitude immediately did a one-hundred-and-eighty-degree turn.
"Twenty thousand. Cadians," the Commissar reminded him.
"Of course." Since it was the Inquisitor-Lord's request, he wouldn't have to take the blame. "We will do our best to meet the request."
With that, the matter was settled. The Commissar still waited patiently, then thanked Aglaia. "Thank you, Inquisitor-Lord." Next, he had to get the Munitorum to deal with the issue of death benefits. With the threat of the Inquisition, it should be much faster.
"Don't mention it." Aglaia subconsciously responded in the way of the transmigrators, which made a few more beads of sweat pop out on the young official's forehead. She then strode away.
She didn't find this kind of errand, which could be solved just by showing her face, to be troublesome at all. She wished there were more things that could be solved so easily. The thought of the revised Pierdra report that the Archmagos had demanded made Aglaia feel a pang of pain. She pressed her hands to her head and couldn't help but run her fingers through her smooth, long, golden hair, pulling out a few strands in the process.
She had already sent the damn report. But not long ago, the Archmagos had come to her and said, "I need you to forge the fact that Pierdra was severely corrupted by Chaos and was destroyed by being dragged into its star." He had completely negated the report that had cost her who knows how many brain cells to write.
If not for the fact that, after some investigation, she had speculated that this Archmagos named Belisarius Cawl was likely the successor of the legendary Master of Soul Synthesis, Magos Hester Aspertia Sigma-Sigma, and would be extremely troublesome to kill, Aglaia would have already had him eliminated.
But now... Aglaia looked at the report with a face of despair. She couldn't kill him, and she would probably have to pay with her own life if she tried. What else could she do?
Just do the work.
Why aren't there more people in this world as easy to serve as Lord Arthur?
"I need to apologize to you."
After patiently waiting for Arthur to complete several combat drills with the sons of the Angel and to arrange the affairs on the mortal side, Dante looked at this dutiful knight, who was constantly trying to pass on everything he had mastered to others, and spoke.
"When I first met you, I thought you were a cold and neurotic person, like your brethren. I have always held a prejudice against you." The knight's first appearance had been at a very bad time, directly stumbling upon the little secret of the sons of the Angel.
"But after spending this time together, I have found that you are a warm-hearted and patient person. Even I rarely turn my gaze upon the mortals."
"In my eyes, Astartes and mortals are no different," Arthur replied. "They need to be taught, they need to be cared for. Even many Astartes have forgotten this memory. But the transmission of this knowledge, experience, and emotion is necessary."
"I only hope that those who receive my teaching can pass this patience on."
The knight was selfless and not very good at refusing. It seemed that as long as it was a reasonable matter, he would do his best to accomplish it, just as he had been tirelessly teaching the Blood Angels all this time. He would silently watch you, and provide help at the appropriate time.
"...I feel like you're very much like my mother," Dante said, startlingly.
"?" Arthur leaned his head back in confusion.
"When I was a child, my father was always very gentle with me. He would tell me stories and play games with me."
"And my mother was very strict with me. She saw me as the continuation of her life and hoped to teach me everything she had mastered in her lifetime. If I wasn't studying, she would just quietly watch me," Dante said. He could feel that the lords were not very old, but their personalities were unusually mature and complete.
The lords seemed to have seen through the incompleteness of most people in this world. They would always unconsciously fall into the mode of an educator. And for the beings of this universe, the only existence that could be so selfless was, in most cases, a parent.
Only a parent would do their best to provide a better growing environment for their child, no matter how difficult the circumstances. They would have better expectations for their child and would do their best to give them warmth and care during their growth.
Only a parent would believe that their child would surpass them, and would selflessly pass on everything they had, hoping they would get better and better.
Even for Dante, his perception of parents was only of these two kinds.
Oh, so it's a metaphor.
"Then you should thank my mom and dad," Arthur said with relief, then continued without any hesitation. The Warhammer universe was indeed extreme. The growth of many people was in fact fractured, to the point where the transmigrators, when facing the people of the Imperium, especially the Astartes, could quickly find their own positioning.
"Just as you should thank your father."
"?" Dante turned his head in confusion, only to find that the black knight had disappeared at some point.
"My father?" Dante whispered. He didn't know how this Dark Angel knew about his past. Perhaps for them, this was just common information. He then thought of his own battle-brothers who had no past.
"Indeed. I should thank my father."
Dante's eyes shone even brighter. In that moment, he seemed to have grasped a sliver of the Blood Angels' future.
His father, Areios, had struggled to maintain the family's survival in an extreme environment, giving his son his love. His mother had died early, and her way of passing on her life to her child as much as possible, combined with the cruel reality of the salt flats, had forged his tough, highly responsible personality.
Compared to his brothers who had no past, he was very lucky. He had received one of the few positive rewards recognized by this universe—that a warm and beautiful past could forge a strong personality. This was something that no brainwashing measure could achieve.
...
The Dawnlight, secret cargo bay.
Cawl looked at the cargo Romulus had delivered to him. Among it were the surveillance devices he had secretly placed in various parts of the ship after boarding. Now, they had all been returned from their placement points and were neatly arranged in an equipment storage box.
The most crucial thing was the information left on the surveillance device storage box.
[Mechanicus Proxy Body No. 1712 (Type-2 Personality Carrier) - Production Date: 626.M41 6.13 - Operating Time: 19,232 Terran Hours]
They really know?
Cawl sucked in a cold breath.
(End of Chapter)