Shark: Behaved

"Lord Tyberos, please follow me."

Having regained his footing, Kovek let out a sigh of relief. If Romulus had not reminded them to activate the magnetic locks on their Void Armor in advance, the transport crews would now have been fishing people out of space.

Compared to Lord Romulus, these warriors in vicious-looking, somewhat crude armor seemed to care little for honor or etiquette.

He drew a deep breath, cast aside those subtle emotions, and put on a reverent attitude toward the Angel of the Emperor once more. Then, escorted by one of the Mk.II Crusade warriors, he approached the Sharks and extended an invitation.

"Romulus has prepared a proper welcome ceremony for you."

The poorly dressed Carcharodons looked utterly bewildered as the mortals led them into the banquet hall that had long been prepared.

There was not the slightest sign of the disarray one would expect after suffering such devastating losses, nor were there any of the Lone Wolves' savage fangs bared in defense of their meager scraps.

The neatly lined-up Mk.II Crusade Terminators and the massive vehicles displayed as a backdrop had become striking sights within the banquet hall.

The Carcharodons lowered their heads and looked at the lavish dishes spread across the table, finding them completely unappetizing.

Their burning gazes swept over the equipment in sight, and their eyeballs nearly fell out of their helmets.

Weren't we supposed to be here to rescue a bunch of battered survivors?

Why did the inside and outside of this ship look like two completely different worlds?

The Sharks cautiously examined their surroundings and the Mk.II Crusade Terminators protecting the mortals. Their polished paintwork and ornate decorations stood in stark contrast to the rivets on the Sharks' shoulder plates and the paint faded pale gray by time.

At a glance, it was the Carcharodons who had come to provide aid who looked like the ones in need of help.

"Want them?"

Romulus's abrupt question came as his thoughts split into dozens of threads, speaking with the other Carcharodons and gathering information.

Unfortunately, most of the Sharks were taciturn. At most, they showed surprise when the Mk.II Crusade warriors beside them spoke in the exact same accent as they did.

They were all waiting for the Void Lord's orders.

"..."

Tyberos dropped heavily into the seat prepared for him, staring blankly at the lavish dishes on the table in silence.

It would have been a lie to say he did not want them.

But considering the value of all that equipment and those vehicles—honestly, he already regretted sending Akia to negotiate in the beginning.

If they had been his possessions and someone had taken half of them under the pretext of rescue, he would have fought the other side to the bitter end.

After coming into contact with such a wealthy Chapter, they should have maintained friendly relations with it, perhaps even established a long-term partnership, rather than taking one bite and leaving.

"Just as I said earlier."

Romulus seemed wholly unconcerned by the Sharks' earlier offense. His gaze fell upon Tyberos's Lightning Claws, as though hinting at something.

"If you want them, you'll have to take them yourself."

"..."

How did he seem to know these Lightning Claws had been won from the Ashen Claws in a duel?

His body was encased in Power Armor modified from a Dreadnought, yet the shielding of Adamantium and Plasteel offered Tyberos not the slightest sense of security at that moment.

Though his helmet, modified from an Indomitus Terminator helmet, was still faithfully carrying out its sacred duty of concealing and protecting his unusually pale face, he felt as if his underwear had been seen through.

Tyberos looked toward Kahurangi, the mind of the Chapter, only to find that the Librarian had already removed his helmet and was conversing with the Deathwatch Librarian.

Was this what it felt like to be bluffed by those Psykers who toyed with prophecy?

Seeing Tyberos thoroughly bluffed, Romulus no longer intended to keep piling on the pressure.

"Let us duel."

He pointed toward the Stormbird in the lower hangar.

Building a dueling platform would have been too troublesome, so Romulus had simply used the upper hull of a Stormbird as the dueling ground. The viewing angle was excellent as well.

"First blood."

It was an ancient ritual of dueling, ending the moment the first drop of blood was drawn.

Smack—

Several beams of light descended, illuminating the wing with brilliant clarity.

The Black-armored Swordsman stood in the center after removing his Power Pack, inviting the Sharks present to challenge him as he released his suffocating aura without restraint.

The swordsman's stance was flawless, and the thick scent of blood upon his body seemed to lick across the Stormbird's wing, making the young Machine Spirit tremble in excitement.

"Let us do this in the way you know best," Romulus said.

"Let the blade speak."

The shark pack began to stir uneasily. Their burning gazes converged on Arthur atop the wing, as well as the neatly arranged Mk.IV Power Armor revealed alongside the Stormbird.

No, how were you this familiar with us? Was this my Chapter or yours?

Tyberos stopped playing the silent type. The other side clearly understood his Chapter's culture, and despite their rocky first meeting, had given him plenty of room to save face.

If his side did not send someone out now, that would be a serious insult.

He decisively removed his helmet and raised a hand, making the secret signal unique to the Carcharodons.

Rustle!

A Carcharodon sprang to his feet at top speed, then leaped down toward the Arena.

Then, the next second—

Clang!

The Shark shot back onto the platform at the same terrifying speed he had fallen, landing flat on his back on the metal floor.

The Apothecary hurried forward to inspect him. The Shark's weapon had already been severed at its weakest point, while a shallow cut marked his gauntlet, crimson blood trickling from it.

He rose and gave the Chapter Master a slight nod.

Other than the cut on his hand and nerves stiffened by that kick, he was fine.

Whoosh!

A master-crafted Chainaxe landed by his feet.

At a speed too fast for his body to react.

"This is an apology."

Arthur lowered his blade and looked up at the watching Sharks.

"Perhaps you may have a few more people on your side?"

Rustle—

Three more men rose to their feet.

The Sharks did not care about so-called honor. A tacit one-on-one duel was the necessary respect due to an opponent, but since the other side had said it themselves, they would not give up such favorable terms.

Yet their movements were quickly stopped by their comrades.

With perfect understanding, their comrades selected the three most battered weapons and solemnly handed them to the three challengers.

Akia, who had originally intended to rise and win glory for the Chapter, also caught on. He promptly sat back down and continued devouring his food.

"That is what Sharks are like."

Romulus could not help but sigh. This interesting scene had let him truly witness the Sharks' spiritual core.

Whether it was malice or goodwill, so long as their bottom line was not crossed, the Sharks merely chose their attitude according to the external circumstances. They were never hindered by concepts like honor, nor did they show preference or disgust toward any particular action. They cared only whether it was necessary.

Just like now.

People like them were, instead, the easiest to change.