So Alike, So Very Alike

Romulus added an extra processing module to the panel that had manifested from his subconscious. It was filled with recorded combat data, which he would optimize whenever he found the time.

Because souls were too expensive, after studying his panel for a while, he had written a system himself for commanding Space Marines in battle.

It ranged from group commands for multiple units to detailed operations precise to the individual.

He could equip soldiers assigned to different roles with action modules as needed. With only brief commands from him, the controlled soldiers could carry out far more complex tactical maneuvers.

As information continued to accumulate, this system would gradually achieve a qualitative transformation through quantitative change.

A typical example was when he had stripped the Imperial Fists of their Cataphractii Terminator armor. Now, with a simple command, he could have three Space Marines autonomously complete the process of putting on the Mk.II Crusade armor without outside interference.

This troublesome experience of changing equipment also reminded Romulus that he should record data on the process of changing all kinds of equipment for these warriors. Previously, he had always deployed both the men and their armor together, so this had never occurred to him.

This approach was far more economical. If he could keep it up, Romulus believed he could train a batch of truly battle-hardened veterans.

Then he really could play it like an RTS game—just hit F2A, without needing to micromanage these warriors.

Closing the panel and looking at the souls, whose number had leapt by a considerable amount, Romulus gazed at the Sharks, who had already finished clearing the battlefield, his mind filled with visions of the future.

The joint operation was over.

When the Transmigrators dragged the Archon, reduced to a limbless stump, out of the chamber, they were met by the admiring gazes of everyone around them.

Even Orlando, who had been wearing a sour expression because they had "gone fighting without me," put on a look of admiration when he saw that the team had suffered no losses.

It could only be said that these warriors truly had no need to bring them along when dealing with xenos.

Though humiliating, the Sons of Dorn would not refuse to acknowledge their shortcomings. They would learn from the lesson and strive to do better next time.

"An utterly magnificent battle, sons of Guilliman."

Cawl looked at Romulus.

In his eyes, this warrior, utterly different from the gene-Primarch, now overlapped with that towering figure who had slept within a Stasis Field for ten thousand years.

"I hope to record your combat process. I can guarantee that this record will not be disseminated externally."

You've already recorded it, so what are you even saying? Don't think I don't know that Servo-skull was eavesdropping on my command.

After grumbling inwardly, Romulus still replied politely.

"It would be my honor, Archmagos."

"I will provide suitable compensation."

Archmagos Cawl took out a key and handed it to Romulus.

"A Tyrant-class Cruiser from the Prospector Fleet. Her former name is no longer important. Now, she belongs to you."

Romulus did not reach for it.

"At first, you only mentioned a frigate."

He needed a reason.

"Yes, but I believe a Space Marine Chapter like yours is worth the price of winning over."

Archmagos Cawl said it bluntly.

"Of course, what you gain will far exceed what you pay."

Only then did Romulus reach out and accept the key. He did not suspect any scheme, replying with confidence.

What a joke. If there's anything wrong with it, I'll send Arthur and Karna around it later, and they'll uncover every last problem.

"I believe so as well."

Cawl truly felt that Romulus was remarkably like Guilliman.

Other than his face, which looked nothing alike, everything else was alike.

Unfortunately, he had purged the Ultramarines' records too many times and could not find any trace of this warrior in the old rosters.

A commander like this should have had legends from that era passed down to the present.

He then looked over Arthur and the others guarding the Archon.

Arthur still wore an indifferent expression, as though ready to throw himself into battle at any moment.

Karna had long since returned to his languid, carefree posture, as though the crimson Angel that had ravaged the battlefield earlier had been nothing but an illusion.

Ramesses pressed one hand against his coffin, seeming deep in thought. His eyes shifted nimbly from direction to direction, signaling the eruption of inspiration within his mind.

Cawl knew very well.

Judging from their individual displays alone, this sage, unique in the field of biological research and even capable of modifying Astartes surgery, had already guessed most of their bloodlines.

These warriors should all have left traces in that era.

"Archmagos Cawl, may I ask whether you will still be going to Piaerde?"

Seeing that their conversation had ended, Aglaia waited a moment before asking nervously.

"Of course."

Cawl withdrew his consciousness from the sea of data and replied.

"The terms remain unchanged. The fleet will not participate in high-intensity combat. Once the escort mission is complete, all of you will receive appropriate compensation."

"Whew—thank you for your generosity, Archmagos."

Aglaia let out a long breath, then thanked the Space Marines as well.

"And thank you for your sacrifices and efforts, my lords."

"Thank you, Lord Romulus. Your bravery and wisdom are worthy of our study."

Marshal Orlando struck his chest in salute, completely failing to notice that the Inquisitor had deliberately singled him out.

He was more concerned with these powerful warriors.

Even if he had no brains, he should have realized it by now. The origins of this group of Deathwatch were definitely not simple. It was even hard to say whether they were truly Deathwatch at all.

"Once the expedition is over, the Black Templars will also offer recompense, my lords."

The Chaplain hurriedly added.

For this Expeditionary Fleet to have survived until now, aside from the Black Templars' formidable reputation, this Chaplain must have contributed a great deal.

Reflecting inwardly, Romulus glanced back at the three men in their various poses. Feeling a slight sense of empathy, he was just about to offer some polite words and move past the subject.

After all, aside from large warships and actual people, they did not particularly lack anything at the moment.

"Loyalty requires no reward. Loyalty to the Emperor is the finest reward."

Arthur suddenly spoke up out of the blue.

"Of course, my lord."

The Chaplain immediately straightened his body solemnly and gave a grave salute toward the holy relic held in Arthur's hand. In that instant, the admiration in his heart reached its peak.

As expected of an ancestor worthy of the Emperor's notice.

Without doing anything, Arthur had earned them a huge wave of goodwill. Romulus turned back to look at him again.

"How do you always manage to say something so appropriate at just the right moment?"

With Romulus's way of thinking about social interaction, he definitely could not have come up with a response so effective.

He then faced forward again, looking at the Black Templars, who had once more fallen into religious fervor alongside the Sisters.

It was hard to imagine that he, a young man of the new era from the twentieth century, would repeatedly experience medieval religious shock in the interstellar age forty thousand years later.

This world was truly twisted.