Post-Battle Summary

With the capture of the raiding fleet's Archon, the outcome of the battle was already sealed.

They were nothing more than stragglers making futile struggles under a gaze that could pierce right through them. After the Archon's flight and probing attacks had exhausted their most powerful individuals, the ordinary Kabal warriors were simply no match for the Sharks, who had already secured a numerical advantage.

The only struggle left for the xenos was to gather their remaining forces into a tight cluster, attempting to break through the blockade along the main corridor to return to their cruiser.

Unfortunately, no sooner had they converged than they were hemmed in from both sides by a relentless barrage of Bolter fire and Lasgun blasts.

Karna listened to the ceaseless roar of gunfire and chainblades, watching as one angry Shark after another charged forward to tear the last of the enemies into shreds. He had no intention of stealing their glory, merely planting his spear—which was missing half its blade—into the deck.

He looked at Arthur with a hint of envy; despite Arthur having taken several hits from Disintegrator Cannon fire while pinning down the Archon, the paint on his shield hadn't even been scratched.

"Want to take a look?"

Seeing Karna staring intently at the sword and shield in his hands, Arthur gripped the hilt in reverse.

"Let me see."

Karna's eyes lit up; just looking at this incredibly cool signature gear made his collector's itch flare up.

"Go ahead then."

Arthur locked the sword and shield together, slammed them down, and struck a heroic pose.

"...Do you think you're being funny?"

"Shouldn't we relax after the fighting is done?"

"The joke was okay, but don't tell it again."

Karna sighed, clutching his forehead.

"Uh—"

Arthur dropped the pose and held out the hilt.

"Want it?"

Arthur was indifferent to the matter.

"No, no. I'm just envious that Old Man Gold can enchant equipment; I'm striving to get one for myself if I get the chance."

Karna waved his hand dismissively. He wouldn't dream of pilfering his good brother's gear; if he really wanted to, he could just use Soul Materialization to replicate a set, though it would lack the enchantments.

"Though, clearly, there's no chance for that this time."

"No chance is a good thing."

Arthur nodded sincerely; it was clear he was in high spirits.

"Yeah, no chance is a good thing."

Karna looked up.

Around them lay chambers that were still relatively intact, piled high with hundreds of corpses of various kinds, blood seeping out from beneath the weight of the heaps.

The remaining bodies could no longer be gathered, especially in the chambers where Tyberos and Karna had passed through; they would have to wait for the *Servitor*s sent by Archmagos Cawl to slowly clean them up.

The Apothecary of the Carcharodons Chapter was counting the spoils from the xenos alongside the Librarians.

Normally, he should have been collecting the bodies of his brothers, recovering their Gene-seed, and checking on the wounded, rather than calculating profits like a miser.

But he could only calculate profits here.

Because not a single battle-brother had perished.

"We won."

They had won, and they had won completely.

All enemies had been annihilated, and their record was zero casualties.

"Thank you for your command, Lord Romulus."

After counting the troops, Tyberos's words carried a tone of admiration; he had never fought such an easy battle.

"Whether it is your command skill or the vast battlefield experience of you lords, I am—very fortunate—to fight alongside such warriors."

Although such flattering words had never formed in his mind since he could remember, Tyberos spoke them with sincerity.

Not a single soul lost.

If not for the help of these *Ancient Warrior*s, let alone a hundred men, even if the entire Chapter had been thrown into the fray, they could never have achieved such a result.

A mere thirty-plus *Ancient Warrior*s were enough to lead one hundred and thirty men to such a glorious victory. If there were ten thousand such warriors—no, in that era when the Astartes were still in their Legions, such warriors must have been countless.

A sense of yearning filled Tyberos's eyes. What kind of epoch-spanning tidal wave could have forged such warriors in the era when the Emperor still walked among men?

Romulus saw that longing, but he did not respond.

Because he knew his own situation; if he couldn't win while playing an RTS with map hacks, he might as well find a hole and bury himself.

A poet who couldn't win even with cheats?

"You overpraise me."

Romulus replied modestly:

"The heroism of the Sharks has also left a deep impression on us."

"We are far more immature compared to you."

Tyberos's gaze swept over the Imperial Fists warriors; their originally pristine Power Armor was marred by scars, with some even bearing penetrating wounds stained with blood.

Meeting the Chapter Master's gaze, the Sharks standing beside them could not help but feel a sense of shame welling up from within.

Especially the three Sharks who had been ambushed while surrounding the Incubus; seeing the scar on the Elder's faceplate, even the joy of victory vanished.

They had stepped onto the glorious battlefield alongside the Elder, yet the Elder had been wounded to protect them, even facing the risk of death on a battlefield fraught with danger.

Despite being warriors tempered by countless wars, they had acted like children protected in swaddling clothes on the battlefield.

"The Carcharodons are clear in their rewards and punishments."

Tyberos said coldly.

Hearing this, the Sharks nodded solemnly; upon returning to the Chapter, they would subject themselves to new trials to prove they were still fit to fight in their companies.

Romulus moved his lips, unsure of how to intervene. After all, he could not be certain what a Chapter's internal culture meant to them, and making a rash decision would likely lead to a result that left everyone unhappy.

Of course, he had learned about the culture of the Sharks; due to special reasons, they cherished the established combat strength within the Chapter.

Even Chief Librarian Kahurangi, the brother who had lost the Void Glass, had been spared after providing a reasonable explanation and embarking on a journey to retrieve the Emperor's Relic, so there was no need to worry about them doing anything abstract like decimation.

At the very least, no one had died.

Romulus shook his head, thinking optimistically, and continued with the post-battle summary.

In this battle, he had basically gauged his own handling ability on a real battlefield; the only drawback was that he had essentially used wallhacks, so the reference value was somewhat lacking.

Of course, cheating was also a part of one's strength; the Chaos Gods were all cheating, so there was no reason they couldn't do the same.

No matter how outrageous he was, he wouldn't hide things while a group of people was risking their lives for him; that would truly be unworthy of the trust the Sharks placed in him by entrusting him with their lives.

Next was the battlefield data recorded this time.

Romulus integrated the combat data of each participant and packed it into the panel that had already been modified beyond recognition by him.