Drink, Lucius

After completing a full series of physical examinations, Kasgar was released back into the Emperor's Children's recruit camp.

The Space Marine transformation process typically lasts five to ten years.

During this time, recruits are usually assigned to the legion's recruit companies, taking on reconnaissance-related tasks.

Only after the final surgery—the implantation of the black carapace—does a recruit receive the power armor that will accompany them for life (excluding the unlucky ones who end up in a Dreadnought) and become a full-fledged Space Marine.

Each legion's recruit training time and methods vary. The Emperor's Children, who pursue absolute perfection, extend their training period beyond that of most legions.

It includes not only the standard Space Marine training regimen but also Mars study tours, court etiquette, art painting, and other subjects as mandatory courses for every Emperor's Children recruit.

Only when every recruit has undergone sufficient training, and every recruit can achieve perfection in all things, is he granted the duty of becoming a true son of the Emperor.

Coupled with the legion's current depleted numbers, with few veterans remaining, the Emperor naturally hasn't placed excessive performance pressure on them.

This allows the Third Legion to remain securely in the rear, completing the preparations needed for the Great Crusade.

So for now, Kasgar must continue training before he's thrown into actual combat.

"Keep it up, Lucius."

"You're in luck, getting to enjoy our master's perfect cooking—I'm so jealous of you."

"Jealous my ass!"

Lucius fumed with rage.

Despite his curses, the sword in his hand dared not pause for even a moment.

Across from him, the recruit swinging a training blade with meticulous precision was Sword Saint Aqua's new disciple, a Terran-born newcomer.

Saul Tarvitz.

Lucius disliked him.

Envious, even.

But compared to that bastard Kasgar, he was far, far more tolerable.

Comparison highlighted Saul Tarvitz's worth.

"Who was it just now shouting that they had to win? Huh?"

"If you want to eat so badly, why don't you do it yourself—!"

Smack!

Just as he was about to argue with Kasgar, Saul's sword found an opening and landed squarely on his shoulder.

"You yield."

Saul Tarvitz's expression remained unchanged, showing little excitement at defeating his opponent.

He merely stepped back a few paces, let out a light sigh, and felt relieved to have escaped the miserable fate of Aqua's dinner.

"Drink up, Lucius."

"This is your—destiny."

Kasgar smiled, handing him a cup of liquid emitting a strange green glow.

"What... what is this?"

"A Space Marine's nutrient porridge. It helps with your recovery and growth."

Sword Saint Aqua was noncommittal.

"Drink it quickly, and remember to tell me how it tastes so I can improve the recipe."

Lucius's face twisted in bitterness.

He cautiously leaned in for a sniff.

Then his once-handsome face contorted in pain.

Even though he was still a recruit, nutrient porridge shouldn't glow green, right?

Huh?

"Not being swayed by external distractions is the prerequisite for becoming a qualified Gladiator."

Aqua said impatiently, clearly dissatisfied with Lucius's performance just now.

"A bet's a bet, Lucius."

Lucius took the cup with trembling hands. He glanced again at the viscous liquid bubbling with an eerie green light, then looked up at Sword Saint Aqua.

But unfortunately, from her eyes, he couldn't find even a shred of pity.

Today, he was doomed.

"Fine! I'll drink it!"

He mustered the courage of one facing death and downed the entire cup in one gulp!

"Ugh..."

"Urgh... aah—!"

". Ah."

His eyes rolled back, limbs went rigid, and he collapsed to the ground, writhing a few times like a maggot.

Dead.

"Stop pretending. Get up and keep training."

Aqua Duna kicked the prone Lucius in annoyance, as if checking whether he was alive or dead.

"If you're not up in three seconds, you're drinking the same stuff tomorrow too."

At those words, he sprang to his feet in a flash, leaping upright.

Perfect parade rest, steely gaze.

And the fear of tomorrow's grim fate drove him to rise from the dead and continue serving the Emperor!

Over the three months of Kasgar's modification, such squabbles and farces had played out repeatedly between the two recruits, Saul and Lucius.

Saul's talent for swordsmanship was equally exceptional, but he was a man who disliked showing off.

Yet under the threat of losing dinner from their instructor Aqua, he had no choice but to bring out his true skill to face his opponent.

Win, no reward. Lose, punishment.

Thus, in their bouts, Lucius always lost more than he won.

Until Kasgar finished part of his modification and returned to Aqua to continue training.

Fresh from his modification, Lucius rubbed his hands together, eager to reclaim the ground he'd lost from Kasgar.

If I can't beat Saul Tarvitz, fine—but I can't beat you?

Unfortunately, he really couldn't beat Kasgar either.

The Emperor's special modification for Kasgar seemed to make him swifter and stronger than the average Space Marine.

Though still a two-heart, three-lung Space Marine, his actual combat stats were already close to those of a newborn Adeptus Custodes.

Written as Space Marine, read as Custodes.

Lucius, who had already struggled against Kasgar before, now found himself utterly unable to fight back.

This isn't fair!

Lucius wanted to shout that.

But after just downing a large cup of Nutrient Porridge, he didn't have much strength left to yell.

"Saul, Lucius, take a break. Clear the floor for me and Kasgar."

"All three of you have no lack of talent. Watch the shifts in sword forms closely; the rest, you'll have to grasp on your own."

Aqua said, leaping onto the training cage.

"Come up, Kasgar."

"Let me see how much you've improved these days."

"Alright."

Kasgar nodded with a smile and vaulted into the ring.

A gale-like sword momentum erupted around them, accompanied by a pleasant clatter of ringing steel.

Even Saul and Lucius, both prodigies of the blade, found the swordsmanship before them dazzling and hard to follow.

The stalemate lasted half a minute before Aqua finally knocked Kasgar to the ground with a single strike.

Half a minute.

Saul and Lucius exchanged sharp glances.

Even if the instructor had held back slightly, lasting half a minute against the Sword Saint Aqua Duna meant Kasgar already qualified as a company commander in combat ability.

A recruit not yet fully modified achieving this level—if he completed all his modifications and honed his swordsmanship further...

How terrifying would his combat prowess become?

"Continue?"

Aqua raised her chin, lifting her sword in question.

"Continue."

Kasgar, sprawled on the ground, showed no defeat in his eyes—only an endless fighting spirit.

To go all-out against the strongest Sword Saint of the Great Crusade, even if he had to eat her cooking, it was worth the price!

"Good."

Though cold, she revealed a rare smile.

Deep within the Imperial Palace.

A stooped old man, draped in a linen robe, let the tapping of his psychic staff echo across the gleaming marble floor.

The old man found him.

"My Lord."

"Forgive my bluntness, but in all the days I've observed Number Twenty-One, I haven't detected even a trace of Psychic Power talent."

From Kasgar, he sensed nothing particularly remarkable.

Could he have been mistaken?

"That is only natural. Do not worry, my friend."

"Before true awakening, his potential will build like a volcano, steadily accumulating."

"And when will that volcano erupt, My Lord?"

"Perhaps soon. Perhaps never."

He replied.

"Just as that brat Horus awakened from a street thug into a Primarch in an instant, to truly unleash his own strength, he still needs—"

"A catalyst. An epiphany."

"Hah... that's both painful and satisfying."

After a grueling day of training, Kasgar strolled leisurely back toward his room.

"Huh? What's this?"

On the tiger's mouth of his right palm, a fine, golden-red crack seemed to have appeared, more pronounced than usual.