Chapter 249: Azrael: A Hundred Years. I'll Take The Rock in a Hundred Years!
Personnel management is a science.
Arthur sat at the head of a long, carved oak table, his fingertips tapping lightly on its surface. From organizing a school activity and deciding who is responsible, to the appointments and promotions in government departments, the arrangements always reflect the wisdom of the leader. At times of great difficulty, good personnel management can help you accomplish your goals with ease.
In Arthur's mind, the greatest master of management he knew of was Liu Bang from ancient history. His strategies were not the best, his administration was not the best, and his warfare was not the best. But that did not stop him from managing his relationships, from gathering capable people under his banner, and in the end, winning the world.
Of course, in this galaxy, personal strength was still important. Otherwise, no matter how good your management skills were, if someone charged at you and cut your throat, you wouldn't be able to use them, would you? Although there were certain limitations due to the very real existence of gods and monsters, that did not stop Arthur from making some good personnel arrangements.
Azrael, a representative figure of the 40k-era Dark Angels Chapter, the wielder of the Lion Helm, the Chapter Master acknowledged by the Watchers in the Dark, and one of the few Supreme Grand Masters who could actually control the Inner Circle. He sat at the other end of the long table, clad in power armour, maintaining a rigid posture, the hem of his robe draped on the floor, unmoving.
Unlike the great trouble he had expected, the Prince had first taken him for a walk, and then they had come to this council chamber together. The process was just a matter of asking Azrael about his time in the Wardens of Steel, and if he had any opinions on the current situation.
This made Azrael's courage grow.
"My Prince, we cannot just keep insisting on infiltration," Azrael's voice was serious, his gaze like a torch. "With all due respect to the seniors of the Firewing, they are impeccable in their disguises. I do not deny their professional ability. But their progress in advancing the Legion's goals is limited. We need enough manpower to take over and iterate the entire management of the Dark Angels Chapter, and we need to develop a member of a sufficiently high rank in a short period of time."
Completely different from the act he had put on in front of Cypher, faced with Arthur, Azrael began to lay out his own plan. Well now. He's already figured out the political ecosystem of the Wardens of Steel.
Arthur was slightly surprised. And he's very confident. Is he so confident that he can become the Chapter Master? Truly, Azrael.
"So? What is your suggestion?" Arthur asked patiently. The preparations for the supply fleet were in their final stages, and his workload had lessened. It wouldn't hurt to have a serious conversation with the new recruits. He could squeeze out the time.
"Who to send? From here, or from The Rock?"
Azrael shook his head. He was self-aware enough on this point. He couldn't command the 30k veterans, and the development of the "Broken Wing Brothers" would not fall into his hands. But on the other hand... to expand the prestige of the new members within the Wardens of Steel, he could only use Dark Angels. Because the conflict between the Chapter and the Legion could not be known to outsiders.
Perhaps the Legion side, with the Prince, didn't care much. Anyone who dared to step out of line could be dealt with later. But the Chapter side would definitely explode.
After a moment's thought, Azrael said, "My Prince, I hope you can give me a group of tested Broken Wing Brothers. I will lead them back to the Chapter, develop a new Inner Circle, and gradually seize power..."
As expected of a Dark Angel. Seizing military power and forming a faction has become an instinct.
Holding the classified document, although it was just a proposal and had many holes, it was enough to prove that Azrael was really taking this idea seriously. Arthur had never expected that this Azrael, who had just joined the Broken Wing Brothers and hadn't even completed his Round Table training, would have such an idea.
"I cannot immediately grant you that much power," Arthur said, immediately shaking his head after reading Azrael's hastily compiled document. His tone was calm but brooked no argument. "Finish your studies first."
"Yes, my Prince," Azrael lowered his head, the shadows concealing any expression he might have shown. But his fingers at his side tightened slightly, then slowly relaxed. At the same time, he felt a slight awkwardness.
The Round Table, aside from being the place where the original eight hundred knights had met with Arthur, was the central place for interaction between the Primarch and the Legion's high command. It was also an important institution for the Wardens of Steel to train their cadres. Its main task was to improve the political and ideological quality, theoretical level, and professional ability of the Legion's cadres, to de-radicalize them, and to cultivate a high-quality team of Legion officers.
After a moment's hesitation, Azrael spoke again. "My Prince, I wish to know the future of Belial and the others." In the Broken Wing Brothers' assessment, Belial had not noticed the various details within the test and had almost killed him. Many Dark Angels' promotions were stuck at the Round Table, and many were complaining.
But Arthur would not budge. The so-called hatred and extremist voices could not be eliminated by a saint's wishful thinking. He would absolutely not allow the extremist voice to re-enter the Legion's command level. You can go mad on your own, under command. The battlefields of the galaxy have plenty of places for you to unleash your extremism. But don't take others with you.
"Belial will be transferred to the Dreadwing. His single-mindedness will be well-utilized there," Arthur explained, in response to Azrael's question about the comrades who had not passed the ideological assessment. "When they have accumulated enough merit in the future, they can also return to the Round Table for re-training."
Want a promotion? Fine. Change your thinking. As the Legion's structure was gradually laid out, Arthur's assessment of the internal members did not relax in the slightest, but became more and more formalized. Did he think he was Perturabo, who would promote you to the Trident if he liked you, and then cripple you if he found you useless?
To be honest, even now, when dealing with the Dark Angels, whether it was the Legion or the Chapter, Arthur did not dare to relax. These veterans, aside from the ones who had boarded Caliban with the Lion, were all Terran-born who had a grudge against the Lion to varying degrees. The fact that they had been exiled was a testament to how bad their political skills were. As for the Dark Angels neophytes that Luther had subsequently recruited, aside from the traditions within the Orders, you couldn't expect too much. The biggest organization that had appeared so far was the miners' union that Gareth had formed because he didn't want to be an Astartes and wanted to protect his own rights. There were really not many people who could be relied upon.
"I have higher expectations for the Legion, which is why I make these strict demands on you," Arthur's voice was calm, looking at the warships that twinkled like stars in the planet's orbit outside the window. "I hope that you can become an independent, formally structured, modern professional army that can stand in the sunlight, not a secret police force that is mired in endless internal strife for the sake of keeping secrets."
Fearing that Azrael would let his imagination run wild, he very directly explained his future plans for the Legion. "I believe you can do better. And I will lead by example."
"I understand," Azrael replied immediately, quickly standing up, his movements a little awkward.
What had he done to deserve an explanation from a 'Primarch'? He was just a Dark Angels neophyte, even if he was one of the only six Astartes in the entire Imperium in ten thousand years to have won the Victor's Wreath before officially becoming a battle-brother. But in terms of status, experience, or importance, he was not worthy to stand here, to have a Primarch listen to his ideas, give him advice, and offer an explanation.
Azrael's brow furrowed unconsciously, his throat bobbing. He now knew where this awkwardness came from. Was the Prince busy? Of course he was busy! Azrael had been transferred from the Chapter to the Chapter's office on Dawnstar for a year, and he had never seen Arthur return to the port. The coded messages in his memory always showed the "Primarch is away" sign. And the communications from the Wardens of Steel fleet undoubtedly confirmed this. Every time, the voice on the comms channel was tired but firm.
But now, he was standing here, listening to an over-confident neophyte take up his time. Looking at Arthur's patient expression, and then remembering his previous cautious attitude, Azrael's breath caught. He quickly sorted out his thoughts.
Of course. The Prince was also troubled by the various problems within the Legion. He began to plan in his mind how to quickly complete the current series of training, find a good position in the assignment, and which members he should unite. Belial and Sammael were possibilities. The Interrogator-Chaplain line of the Chapter could basically be given up. The Librarius also needed to be further brought under control, and the training of the Chapter members had to begin to lean towards management.
This conversation had allowed Azrael to grasp a deeper element. Did the Prince want a group of administrative workhorses? No, there were plenty of workhorses. And the Legion was not averse to using A.I. Such workhorses could exist, but they would certainly not be the precious Astartes.
What the Prince needed was a group of Astartes who could coordinate work, who could understand what the leadership wanted to do, and who were emotionally stable. The same applied to war. He needed a force that, when sent out, could control the military and political affairs of a region and ensure that there were no problems. Not a group of problem children who couldn't manage after winning a battle, or who were constantly causing trouble for him in private because of a bunch of secrets.
He had to learn, to adapt. Otherwise, he would be like those old veterans. No matter how strong their tactics and combat power were, what was the use? With your reactive nature, who would be willing to send you out? The Legion was never short on fighters. And no matter how strong you are, can you be stronger than the Prince?!
As his thoughts continued to develop, Azrael felt a heavy sense of mission. It was a mission given to him by the bloodline that flowed in his veins!
"Azrael," Arthur said, seeing Azrael had fallen into a strange, silent state. He looked at the time and called his name.
"Here!" Azrael immediately snapped out of his thoughts, and at the same time, felt a pang of regret.
"Are there any other questions? Speak now," Arthur continued to ask.
"My Prince, for this operation, can I, as a representative of the Round Table's students, participate?"
"Of course you can. But you have to pass the assessment," Arthur said, checking the registration list and finding that Azrael's name had already been entered. "Anything else?" The knight's patience was incredible.
Outside the battlefield, this was one of the few things Arthur could give these warriors.
"Nothing else, my Prince," Azrael replied without hesitation, his head bowed slightly in respect.
"Good," Arthur said, rising decisively. He scanned the list again, preparing to arrest the next Dark Angel with some "fantastic ideas." All that was left for Azrael was a sharp, but not piercing, retreating back.
Not long after Arthur had left, Azrael found Cypher.
"My Lord, I need a team of students. The goal is to use the Ultramarines as a template to form a leadership team that can cover politics, military, and civil affairs. I hope to conduct a simulation based on a frigate," he said, immediately handing over a list. "These are the men I want."
"Huh?" The tip of the training sword hung in mid-air. Cypher's eyebrow raised slightly. He hadn't expected this junior to be so fast. He reviewed the list, then frowned slightly. "Start with a community. Can you do that? The Prince has regulations." Military operations were approved without question. After all, the Dark Angels were natural-born masters of combat. But this also included the other two items.
"I can," Azrael nodded immediately.
What a workhorse. Cypher couldn't help but sigh internally. He then immediately inscribed his private cipher. "You still need to get a stamp from the registrar's office," he added, as a friendly reminder.
"Understood. Thank you," Azrael said, and then strode away.
Did you think he would be content to be a worker bee? He wanted a Chapter! Azrael would offer the Prince a Dark Angels Chapter, reformed by him, that was more in line with the Prince's standards than the Dark Angels Legion.
The true Wardens of Steel.
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