There are good things on the Ark

Sigh.

A single lament, steeped in nearly ten thousand years of melancholy.

Ramesses frowned.

"Did you all hear something?"

"Huh?"

The three cast puzzled glances, only to notice the priests and nuns beside them beginning to pray, followed by a brilliant light descending upon their own armor.

"...Never mind."

Everyone understood what was happening.

Just assume Old Man Gold was having another episode.

Romulus said nothing more; he had simply wanted to subtly remind Ramesses not to stir up trouble, but he hadn't expected the man to already be self-aware, which left him feeling a bit awkward.

It was fortunate that they all knew each other well, otherwise, it would have come across as "arrogant finger-pointing."

"I was overly suspicious, my apologies."

Romulus apologized honestly.

In truth, Romulus sincerely believed that the greatest gift the four transmigrators had received upon arriving in this world was not just those miraculous abilities, but a heart that maintained reverence for everything in this universe.

This gave him, as one of the transmigrators, a profound sense of security.

If there were someone constantly causing disasters or feeding them false intelligence, the mere thought of it was enough to make one feel despair.

"So, are we moving in now?"

Arthur drew his sword decisively; the Black Sword, still shimmering with sacred light, drew the gaze of the priest.

Ever since the interrogation began, the priest's eyes had been drifting toward that blade from time to time.

"Wait a moment, I still need some time on my end."

Romulus removed his helmet and rubbed his hair, which had gathered a bit of moisture due to the temperature difference.

"What kind of time?"

"Heaven knows the first operation would be a high-speed assault."

Romulus gritted his teeth.

"I have to change forty sets of Mk.II Crusade armor, one by one."

One had to understand that a Terminator suit was something you couldn't even put on without assistance, let alone take off.

"Correction: excluding Arthur and Karna, who are also tasked with the assault, it's thirty-seven. You can skip three."

Ramesses gloated.

"Take your numerology and get lost."

"Hahaha, I think not."

Ramesses pushed his luck.

"By the way, Arthur."

Ignoring his foolish son, Romulus, still busy swapping out the Mk.II Crusade armor, gave a reminder.

"Inform the Carcharodons of the news the priest just gave us. Tell them we have a way to catch the tail of the Drukhari, and ask them to prepare one hundred and thirty men for a joint assault, provided we take command."

Naturally, he had no intention of bothering Tyberos directly; a Chapter Master had his pride when out in the field, and if he were ordered around like a subordinate, he might as well retire.

"Karna, go help me ferry another ship of men over. Also, notify the Carcharodons that we will clear a space on this ship; I need to run a simulation to check for loopholes and ensure the highest possible success rate."

Romulus studied the map of the occupied sector of the craftworld.

"Doesn't that mean you'll have to change even more armor sets?"

"Change them I will. Being tired is better than being dead."

"Fair enough."

The two nodded and immediately split up to begin their tasks.

"Akia."

In a deserted corner, Arthur, clad in pitch-black armor, approached the Third Company Captain of the Carcharodons.

As the reapers among the Carcharodons, negotiating with Imperial forces was a duty that fell to this company, and Akia, as captain, was naturally among them.

Arthur did not remove his Mk.IV Maximus Terminator armor; at their level, the speed restrictions imposed by the plating were negligible.

"Lord Arthur."

Akia looked at the empty, silent surroundings, assuming the other had some secret to impart.

Once the perimeter was confirmed clear, Arthur relayed the message Romulus had given him, intending for Akia to pass it on to Tyberos.

Thirty seconds later.

Akia stepped out from the corridor and returned to the Carcharodons' ranks, a bloodthirsty smile hidden beneath his helmet.

Upon hearing Arthur's retelling, his instinct was that this wave of xenos was impossible to fight, but since the old timers said there was a way, there was no reason for them to avoid the battle.

Listening to the hum of the servo-motors inside his armor, the belligerence in his genes made Akia instinctively ignore the strategy Romulus was still testing; that was not something he should be thinking about.

Muscle fibers twitched as he clenched his fist tightly, Akia feeling an unbearable itch in his hands.

Did you see the armor on him? A master-crafted War Hound Power Armor from the Great Crusade, performance maxed out, and even the weapons had been swapped for superior Power Axe models.

This time, he would definitely hack down a few more xenos to break in the blades.

Another thirty seconds passed.

Arthur and Karna walked out of the Thunderhawk cabin alongside the Space Marine who had swapped to a las-flintlock, nodded silently toward Romulus, and then looked together at the trading floor that had already reached a result.

"Following the ancient contract, the Carcharodons shall receive twenty sets of Indomitus Terminator, including repair parts, as well as thirty base units of all-model Bolter ammunition, and two hundred Bolter weapons of various models. Do you require me to retool the production lines to refit them for Power Armor?"

Retracting his mechanical apparatus, the aperture of the Black Box healed itself in an instant as Archmagos Cawl spoke to Tyberos.

Compared to the stereotype of the mechanical speech of the Tech-Priests, Archmagos Cawl's manner of speaking was clearly more human.

"No need."

Tyberos refused flatly. He had been grinding daily tasks recently to build up a decent reserve of Power Armor for the Chapter, so it was enough for the short term, and the same went for weapons.

He could just spar with Arthur more later to fleece him for plenty more; teaching everything he knew would also happen to improve his own strength.

"Swap all weapons for Bolters and explosives, along with repair tools."

He had not forgotten that both the Carcharodons and the Deathwatch were lacking cheap, basic ammunition.

As for the Indomitus Terminator, he still had to ensure they were stocked; although their performance had degraded, their inherent role fit the current combat patterns of various Chapters perfectly.

The Mk.II Crusade was just a clumsy lump if one lacked the physical talent to wear it, making it ill-suited for the Carcharodons, while the Mk.IV Maximus was too expensive—it would take over a hundred units to arm an entire company.

Even if Romulus were willing to give them, Tyberos would have no face to accept them.

At the very least, he had to serve as muscle for a while for these old timers who might be younger than himself, paying off the favor before considering anything else.

"Understood."

The Archmagos didn't care one way or the other, and several Servitors dragged the cargo containers away.

"Production capacity needs to be reallocated. You may come to this warehouse to collect the goods in 13 hours."

"Hm."

Tyberos signaled his approval, having no intention of haggling.

Hearing the contents of the trade, Romulus couldn't help but frown.

Two STC, even if one was for producing snacks that cured most occupational diseases from space travel, and the other could synthesize functional beverages from a few conventional elements, they were of little use to an Imperium kept in a state of high-pressure warfare for so long—but surely they weren't worth so little?

As expected, the idea that one STC could be traded for an entire planet was a lie; it was purely a matter of judging people by their status, and the Adeptus Mechanicus had pegged the Carcharodons as a Chapter with no leverage to bargain with them.

And for such a small amount of goods, did they actually need to reallocate production capacity?