"Long time no see. You've been doing pretty well for yourselves—"
Tyberos stared at Malakim and bared his teeth in a grin, the scars on his face making him look rather vicious.
He was somewhat displeased with the Lamenters parading through the square and drawing the warriors' attention.
Before these fellows arrived, the Carcharodons had been the most eye-catching Chapter in the square. Now, however, the shark pups had been robbed of their spotlight.
"Oh, Brother Tyberos! You're doing quite well yourselves. If you need anything, just ask us Lamenters for help."
Malakim smiled without any warmth, his tone faintly mocking.
As he spoke, he discreetly activated the high-grade visual effects on his armor, dazzling Tyberos for a moment.
That was the color of wealth, worth an entire large battleship.
In fact, the glow of such force fields was not merely decorative. It also signified stronger defenses, capable of blocking many different types of attacks.
These expensive, high-grade force field facilities were even more powerful than certain ancient forbidden relics. After all, the Imperium had continued advancing over the past thousand years, rather than relying on excavating the legacy of the past to obtain more powerful weapons as it once had.
Malakim was openly flaunting his wealth.
He and Tyberos had never gotten along particularly well. There was some bad blood between them—or rather, between the Lamenters and the Carcharodons.
During the Lamenters' darkest days, these reckless Carcharodons had made their already impoverished lives even worse. Although it had not been intentional, the grudge had taken root.
Beyond that, there were the reasons buried in their forbidden history. During the Old Imperium, the Lamenters had once been considered disloyal, and the Carcharodons, ordered to monitor them, had been a blade hanging over their heads.
Admittedly, both the Carcharodons and the