This Is Our Warhammer Journey

Romulus, having finished equipping the Ironclads, squinted slightly as a series of questions flashed through his mind. Combining this with the priest of the Black Templars’ words, it seemed he understood what required the Great Sage to carefully calculate the production capacity of a mechanical Ark.

He turned his head back.

Hmm—

The four of them exchanged glances, all of them showing meaningful expressions. They understood what was on this ship.

No wonder the Great Sage was being so cautious.

“Brother Tyberos.”

After the argument with the Inquisitor, Marshal Orlando, persuaded by the priest, decided to give it one more try.

Though he wanted to stuff that damned witch into an adamantium coffin just like the Deathwatch brothers would, even the Black Templars couldn’t do anything to an Inquisitor without solid evidence.

If they executed the Inquisitor of the Source Retrieval Order based on a baseless reason, the Imperial worlds the expedition fleet passed through would soon be flooded with rumors that would be very unfavorable for the chapters.

This would be a severe blow to most of the Astartes chapters.

“Speak.”

Tyberos’ cold voice rang out as he looked down at the Marshal in front of him.

“The extermination of the Eldar requires the Devouring Sharks’ help. The Great Sage has given us only five minutes to operate, otherwise, no deal.”

With his head held high, Marshal Orlando maintained his usual stern demeanor.

Tyberos turned to look at the still-present Great Sage Kaor.

The Great Sage nodded lightly, confirming the truth of this request.

“And no heavy weapons are allowed. Every additional explosion could cause significant damage to the property this ship carries.”

“How many xenos are there?”

“About five hundred, the exact number is unclear.”

“How are they distributed?”

“They are located in the rear sections of the ship. The passageways are complex. Test assaults have incurred heavy losses, with a casualty ratio of about 3:1, and we know nothing of the enemy's precise positions.”

There was a certain benefit to being blunt—no unnecessary rhetoric, just the unvarnished truth.

And it seemed Marshal Orlando didn’t mind Tyberos’ cold attitude. After spending some time, he recited the detailed information they had gathered.

“This condition is harsh.”

Tyberos’ rejection was clear.

Even though the Devouring Sharks were well-equipped and staffed, and he was eager to cut down some xenos, maybe even capture an administrator to interrogate for some Voidborn clues, he wouldn’t recklessly accept a ridiculous mission from a Great Sage that would result in unnecessary casualties.

“My lord!”

Before Tyberos could turn away, Akiya, the third squad leader, approached and relayed the transmigrators’ request via internal comms.

“...”

After hearing Akiya’s report, Tyberos turned to look at the transmigrators still standing with the priest of the Black Templars.

Romulus, his eyes still glistening with condensation, raised his thumb and pointed to the thirty-seven warriors behind him who had already equipped lasguns, showing confidence.

He had already tested it in the segment allocated to the sharks, and it was stable.

Hmm, that’s good.

“Kahulangi.”

Tyberos called over his chief strategist.

“Send thirty more from the first company.”

He used a loudspeaker to announce it.

“Brother?”

Marshal Orlando looked surprised, unsure why Tyberos was mobilizing troops to the Ark after rejecting the request.

“The plan has changed.”

Tyberos flexed his claws, and the chain-fist sparked as its gears engaged.

“Please allow Romulus to explain.”

Before Romulus could react, Tyberos immediately ceded the position of speaking.

Tyberos had never cared about so-called honor. As descendants of the Forgotten, the Devouring Sharks never had honor to begin with.

And in the Expanse, it was even less relevant. Most people who tried to deal with the Devouring Sharks were respectful once they met him in person.

Tyberos knew why Romulus acted as he did, and that’s why he should let these old-timers take over.

Just as Romulus and the others respected his position as a chapter master, respecting a chapter master’s status could also significantly elevate their own standing.

Status—this was extremely useful within the Imperium.

Unlike the Devouring Sharks, who always lingered on the edge of the Imperium, Romulus and his group clearly intended to return to the Imperium. They would face endless probes and scrutiny from all the Imperial factions.

At that time, having a complete chapter behind them would make all the difference.

“...”

Romulus naturally approached Kaor and exchanged a glance with Tyberos.

Tyberos gave a slight nod, signaling Romulus to take the lead.

The Sharks stood quietly in formation, not opposed to backing the old warriors.

Putting aside their generosity, the fact that these ancient warriors still intended to fight for humanity after seeing the Imperium in its current state was truly the epitome of loyalty.

Had it not been for their vow to the Voidfather, compelling the Devouring Sharks to fight against the twisted creatures that might threaten the Imperium’s borders, they would have given up their heritage and vanished in the Expanse.

Why bother with paying tithes and sending reinforcements that only disgusted themselves and the Imperium?

The loyalty of these ancient warriors, after witnessing the Imperium’s state, was truly beyond words.

“My lord?”

Now, everyone present was curious.

Who, other than the Deathwatch, could make a chapter master address them as “my lord”?

When Marshal Orlando’s gaze fell on the Deathwatch, his mind was flooded with questions.

Wait, does the Deathwatch have this many Imperial fists?

Are they sending out entire kill teams like this? Is Terra not safe anymore?

“The Devouring Sharks’ fleet has dragged a strike cruiser, its main body intact but combat ineffective, and an Ork warship of the same class.”

Romulus didn’t mince words and directly told the Great Sage: “I wish to exchange these for the ownership of a frigate.”

Normally, this would be a bad deal—dragging two ships to a forge world to pay with an Ork warship, and in two years they would get a new strike cruiser. But Romulus didn’t believe they could wait in one region for two years.

“Not enough.”

The Great Sage replied decisively.

“What about adding that Eldar cruiser?”

The Great Sage coldly looked at Romulus.

Romulus looked calmly back at the Great Sage.

His face showed no sign of strain, arrogance, or fanatical devotion to faith, nor any desperate resolve from being backed into a corner.

He was calm—calm as if stating a fact, presenting the conclusion derived from a rigorous analysis of the situation.

This was an expression Kaor hadn’t seen in a long time...

Long enough that it felt like it had been a thousand years.