"Julius, work! Get up and work!"
The curtain was lifted by an invisible force. The morning sunlight streamed into the room, causing Julius's eyes to sting slightly as they struggled to adjust.
The guardian spirit's urging also tormented his mind, preventing him from falling back asleep.
Julius rubbed his brow in pain. "I worked overtime until midnight yesterday. Can't you let me sleep two more hours?"
"No!" Solomon's voice suddenly rose. "It's working hours now. You should go report to Lord Guilliman!"
Julius stared at Solomon hovering above his head and sighed. "You're always urging me to work. It's not like I'm working for you! Am I the master, or is Guilliman your master?"
"Working is your honor!"
"Then why don't you work?"
"I'm always helping you."
"I don't see you handling official documents for me!"
"I can't!" Solomon hugged his flame-formed arms, righteous and confident.
It was a guardian spirit. This wasn't its job.
Although it had a contract with Julius, the contract didn't forcibly require it to do anything.
Julius only needed to work diligently. As a guardian spirit, it had many things to consider.
Despite his complaints, he still had to work.
When Julius arrived at the dining room after washing up, Gallan was already having breakfast alone.
The vast residence was occupied only by the father and son, besides the servants.
"Father."
"Sit down." Gallan put down his knife and fork and looked up. "Any difficulties at work? If you have problems, you can come to me anytime."
Julius: "Father, you're busy with your work. Don't trouble yourself. Roboute will teach me."
A complex mix of emotions filled Gallan's eyes. What did he mean, 'Roboute will teach me'?
Am I your father, or is he?
Gallan: "Roboute is indeed very capable. I'm relieved that you can learn from him."
Julius: "You don't object?"
Gallan raised an eyebrow slightly. "Why would I object?"
Gallan understood Julius's concern. He shook his head. "It's all in the past."
There were indeed some rifts between him and Konnor, but if he was honest, he had brought it all upon himself.
He had been jealous of Konnor, so he had to compete with him in everything, wanting to surpass him and achieve unprecedented great things.
But now Gallan had come to terms with it.
Because Roboute Guilliman was too outstanding.
Everyone of the younger generation on Macragge was his follower, including Julius.
Even his own son had defected. So what if he beat Konnor?
The next generation would still be Guilliman's era.
With Roboute around, he couldn't beat Konnor anyway.
If a conflict really broke out, Julius probably wouldn't help him either.
When even his own son sided with Guilliman, what waves could he, alone, stir up?
Konnor had never held a grudge against him. He had just been tormenting himself. Why bother?
So, he might as well just let it go.
As long as he didn't compete with Konnor, he would remain Consul. They could both be dignified.
Gallan: "I don't expect you to be as outstanding as Roboute, but at least learn from his way of dealing with people."
"I understand, Father."
Julius could never match Roboute in his entire life, not even one-tenth. He knew his limits.
This was very different from his father. Gallan had to compete with Konnor in everything.
It was because, although Gallan wasn't as good as Konnor, he had become Consul through his own ability. He was only slightly inferior to Konnor.
He could see the gap, so he was unwilling to accept it.
But the gap between Julius and Guilliman was simply too vast, and it was growing larger.
He could only watch from afar, seeing no possibility of shrinking the gap.
When the gap is this large, sensible people give up.
So he had never competed with Roboute. His self-positioning was very clear: he was Roboute's follower.
Julius bid farewell to Gallan and quickly walked through the central courtyard.
The residences of the two Consuls were right next to each other, separated by a courtyard wall.
For convenience, there was a gate in the wall.
"Roboute."
Julius pushed open the study door and saw the giant bent over his desk.
Compared to when they first met, Roboute was now three meters tall.
But according to his father Caelan, Roboute was still a minor, still growing.
From that point on, Julius had gained a new understanding of what a Primarch was.
And his acceptance level was very high.
Because in his era, technology was advancing rapidly; genetic modification was already very advanced.
Now, in the 30th millennium, humanity would naturally have new breakthroughs at the genetic level.
And the Primarchs might be the beginning of a new humanity.
Guilliman looked up. "Julius, are you getting used to it these days?"
Julius sat down opposite Guilliman in a lordly manner. "To be honest, if it were gone now, I'd feel completely uncomfortable, like withdrawal symptoms."
He came to see Guilliman every day, both to learn from him and because of Solomon.
Although they had re-signed the contract, Guilliman was still wary of Solomon. He wouldn't trust a Warp entity.
Julius was very grateful for his friendship with Guilliman; otherwise, he would be a corpse by now.
Solomon couldn't harm him, nor could it harm others without his permission.
But if Solomon wanted to corrupt him, gradually induce him imperceptibly, such subtle changes wouldn't violate the contract.
Even if Solomon didn't corrupt him, other Warp entities might use Solomon to corrupt him.
Julius understood the stakes and was still haunted by fear, so he didn't resist reporting to Guilliman daily.
Ultimately, this protected his own safety.
But Julius wasn't lying either. He and Solomon had grown up together.
Even though Solomon had admitted it would harm him, it never actually did, and had even admitted it sincerely.
That kind of relationship isn't so easily let go of!
Knock, knock!
Olus knocked on the door and waited two seconds before pushing it open.
His gaze fell on the two inside. He silently walked over and sat beside Julius. He, too, had come to report his daily schedule to Guilliman.
"Tell me. Did your guardian spirits behave abnormally yesterday?"
Although they were discussing this loudly in their presence, Guilliman had no other choice.
The guardian spirits were bound to their masters. If he wanted to talk to their masters, he couldn't avoid the guardian spirits' knowledge.
Julius replied, "Same as always. But I worked overtime until midnight yesterday and wanted to sleep in a bit. But it had to wake me up this morning, urging me to go to work."
Olus, with dark circles under his eyes, was also suffering. "Nehemiah is the same. It absolutely wouldn't let me sleep in this morning."
They had worked overtime until midnight, and Guilliman had allowed them to sleep in.
Mortals are not Primarchs. Without adequate sleep, their learning and work efficiency suffer greatly.
Guilliman frowned slightly. He had been monitoring and analyzing the guardian spirits' intentions, but since when did they become so competitive?
It was bad enough that they were competitive, but they made their masters competitive too.
When they had been asked to re-sign the contracts, they had been eager as well.
Was it because they truly enjoyed working, or did they have other motives?
….....
"Captain Benitez, the 2 billion tons of grain are all loaded. If the count is correct, please sign."
At Macragge's spaceport, the port's cargo supervisor handed a paper document to Benitez.
Although this could all be done on a Cogitator, Macragge had always maintained the habit of keeping paper records.
Benitez signed readily, not forgetting to remind the person in charge, "Berian, remember to prepare next month's quota for me."
Berian looked at him with surprise. "You're still doing grain trading next month? I thought you always complained about the low profit margins. I thought you'd switch to industrial worlds."
Benitez sighed. "The Warp storms have made that route very dangerous. The Podalis went missing just last month. A lower profit margin is fine. I don't want to take the risk."
Berian nodded, "Alright, I'll prepare it early for you, but I can only hold it for a week at most."
Benitez was a captain, commanding the armed freighter Consul's Porter, five kilometers long.
Even in the most turbulent Dark Age, Macragge's industrial infrastructure had remained intact.
Orbital shipyards, space elevators, and planetary defense systems were all present.
However, due to historical reasons, Macragge had not been a core world in the Golden Age, just one of many remote colonies, with very little contact with the Interstellar Federation Government.
Therefore, Macragge's technological level was not very high.
The shipyard was very small, only capable of building and maintaining small ships.
But even so, thanks to short-range Warp jump technology, they had still established a stable trade network with neighboring systems.
The Consul's Porter was an ancient legacy from the Dark Age of Technology. Macragge had long since lost the ability to build such large freighters.
Benitez commanded it as it traveled between Macragge and other worlds, responsible for transporting raw materials to resource-depleted industrial worlds.
After arriving at its destination, the Consul's Porter would also receive goods produced by the industrial worlds, transporting them back to Macragge and other worlds incapable of interstellar travel to sell.
Then, it would buy raw materials from these worlds to take back to Macragge for basic processing, finally concentrating shipments to industrial worlds.
This way, Macragge could both earn the price difference and keep its own factories running.
But occasionally, Macragge's freighters would also transport grain between agricultural worlds and hive worlds, depending on the profit margin.
At this moment, the Consul's Porter was fully loaded with 2 billion tons of grain.
Although the number was staggering, it was still a drop in the bucket in the interstellar age.
Theoretically, 2 billion tons of grain would only be enough for a hive world for 10 days.
Considering government corruption, inefficiency, and the loss and waste due to embezzlement, it would actually be at most 5 days.
Although hive worlds could produce corpse-starch for their people to enjoy, corpse-starch was a byproduct of promethium refining.
Hive worlds had an enormous demand for grain.
The output of corpse-starch was insufficient to feed the hundreds of billions in a hive world. They had to rely on imports.
To maintain the basic survival of these hundreds of billions, the Consul's Porter would need to make at least 80 trips per year, transporting hundreds of billions of tons of grain.
But each round trip for the Consul's Porter took nearly a month, only allowing 12 trips per year.
Therefore, a hive world would need at least 7 large freighters or over a hundred small freighters dedicated to grain imports.
The Consul's Porter usually didn't transport grain, because the profit margin was too low.
But industrial worlds didn't have orders every day. When idle, to avoid running empty, he would also do grain trading.
Now, the Warp routes between industrial worlds and Ultramar were full of danger.
One wrong move, and you could completely disappear. It wasn't worth the risk for such slim profits.
As long as the ship survived, there would be plenty of opportunities to make money later.
But if the ship was lost, everything was lost.
The grain he was carrying now came from the agricultural world Neosthulium in the Macragge system.
Neosthulium's grain would be given priority to the hive world Yalthi in the same system, but surplus grain was also exported.
Trade within the same system was done by sub-light ships, with lower risk, but also lower profit.
The Consul's Porter could perform interstellar travel, with higher risk, but also higher profit.
Although these profits didn't completely belong to Benitez, he was just the captain, while the ship's owner was Macragge's Consul Konnor, it was still Benitez running the ship. He didn't want to take risks.
He could retire in a few years. The money he had saved over the years was enough for a comfortable old age.
Consul Konnor also worried about losing the ship for small gain and had allowed his proposal to change the route.
Safety first, always.
For safety, the Consul's Porter also hadn't completely abandoned defenses like other merchant ships.
Otherwise, if the broadside cannons on both sides were removed, it could carry even more cargo.
His adjutant saluted him: "Captain, we estimate reaching the Mandeville Point in 30 minutes."
Benitez didn't look up. "Maintain course. Have you checked the Gellar field?"
The adjutant answered, "The Tech-priests conducted a full inspection of the Gellar field and Warp drive. Everything is normal."
He hesitated, then couldn't help asking, "Captain, is all this caution really necessary?"
Benitez patted his shoulder and educated him earnestly: "Remember, always err on the side of caution."
"Warp travel is full of risks. The most important thing is to confirm whether there are hidden problems with the Warp drive and Gellar field."
"If they fail during the voyage, the whole crew dies."
"You'll be taking my place sooner or later. You need to inherit all my habits without exception."
"Don't ever find it troublesome. Caution is never redundant. I inherited this from my father, too."
The adjutant nodded. "I understand, Dad."
"Address me by my title when working!"
"Yes, Captain!"
"Captain!" The Augur Master's voice interrupted the father-son moment. "A jump signal detected at the Mandeville Point. It's an unfamiliar identification signal!"
Benitez ordered, "Don't panic. Identify the signal source. Scan the ship's dimensions."
The Augur Master's Adam's apple bobbed nervously. Cold sweat slid down his temple.
"There are thousands of them!"
....
If you enjoy the story, my p@treon is 30 chapters ahead.
[email protected]/DaoistJinzu