Don't Bully the Poor Old Soldier!

"Well said. The Sons of the Emperor should indeed attend to everything personally, down to the smallest detail."

"But somehow, I get the feeling you're hiding something?"

Aqua's keen instincts as a swordswoman often proved remarkably effective.

Her sharp gaze pinned Kasgar, making him afraid to even breathe.

But gradually, her expression softened.

"Still, no matter what, I'm willing to trust your judgment."

"Thank you."

Kasgar replied with a smile.

"Hah."

"This is... truly torturous."

The crystals on Silent Star's surface were incredibly hard.

Even with the Adeptus Mechanicus's heavy machinery, building Defensive Fortifications would take a considerable amount of time.

Coupled with the toxic gases blanketing the surface, their power armor's atmospheric seals couldn't be opened for ventilation.

Though the suits had internal breathing and purification systems, the grueling construction work made it stifling.

Hard to breathe fresh air.

"Damn it! Why are we building useless fortifications here!"

"I want to fight and kill the Enemy of the Father!"

The elite First Company's grievances against Kasgar grew louder by the day.

They were the noble Sons of the Emperor!

Their mission was to slay the Enemy of the Father.

Not to shovel the Father's ashes!

They were the Emperor's sharpest blade, the most magnificent, the most artistic of all Astartes (another name for Space Marines)!

Their destiny was to die in glorious battle or return in triumph.

Not to build futile Maginot Lines in this godforsaken place!

When had these old Terran-born warriors ever suffered such indignity!

Company Commander Cassalon looked up at the sky shrouded in toxic clouds.

By now, the fierce Dalit Annihilation Battle must have already begun.

And he, Company Commander Julius Cassalon—if Horus hadn't transferred them to the rear to accommodate that fool Kasgar—

would surely have been leading his squad in a boarding action against the strongest enemy xenos flagship, wielding his Xhanabal Saber in a one-on-one duel with their most powerful chieftain!

"Come, coward, draw your weapon!"

"Our duel will be etched into history!"

Thus, the valiant Cassalon would have turned the tide of battle by successfully decapitating the enemy leader!

Returning in victory, he would be received and lavishly praised by the godlike Primarch Horus!

Then even Fulgrim would marvel at his ferocious combat prowess and bitterly regret her shortsightedness in entrusting command to a talentless, virtue-less mediocrity like Kasgar.

Instead of him, the talented and virtuous Company Commander!

And then, to reward his illustrious deeds—

Fulgrim would personally forge him a set of armor and weapons as perfect as Kasgar's!!!

Ah!

How satisfying would that be!

Hehehehehe.

Then, he would definitely wear that dazzling, radiant armor and thoroughly despise that incompetent named Kasgar!

Hmph!

Thirty Years east of the river (the galaxy), Thirty Years west!

Don't bully an old veteran down on his luck!

"Company Commander, your scheduled one-Terran-hour rest period has ended."

But unfortunately, Cassalon didn't get to savor the other's fury.

All because of this Servitor beside him, cutting it off at the most critical moment.

He shook his head and looked around at the makeshift tent they had set up.

The dream was over.

"...I'm coming."

Time to get back to concreting.

Ugh, how could Kasgar be so awful!

"Report!"

Before Caslon could finish cursing in his mind, a mortal officer came running from the distance.

He was of average human height, wearing the standard-issue uniform brought from Chemos, looking quite tall and handsome.

The mortal auxilia officers of their Third Legion had been selected by Fulgrim and Kasgar from Chemos's guard forces to join the expedition as support troops.

"Lord Caslon."

"If needed, Commander Kasgar has sent us to assist with the construction of the defensive fortifications."

Unlike them, Space Marines clad in power armor, this mortal auxilia sergeant major only had a gas mask to filter the air.

The climate on Silent Star was sweltering and humid, even at the poles.

Even from a distance, Caslon could see the sweat soaking through the man's uniform.

"You?"

"Aren't the mortal auxilia supposed to be building their own fortifications? Don't you have your own?"

"Reporting, sir. The outermost defensive fortifications assigned to us are largely complete."

"Per Commander Kasgar's orders, we are to support the unfinished fortifications within the encampment."

As he spoke, he rummaged for a moment and handed Caslon a pair of binoculars.

Through the lenses in the distance, countless mortals were still laboring hard around the central heavy fortress forged from steel.

Judging by their progress, it would be finished soon.

That fast?

The veteran Company Commander Caslon was somewhat surprised.

To be honest, these overlooked mortal auxilia were usually deployed as the first wave of cannon fodder for their Space Marines on the battlefield.

On one hand, it drew out the enemy's tactical formations and strengths; on the other, it preserved the precious Space Marines.

With the Great Crusade linking so many Imperial worlds and hive cities, the manpower available for conscription was nearly endless.

So generally, this cannon-fodder tactic worked quite well.

But the trade-off was that the mortal auxilia suffered extremely high casualty rates and very low morale.

Cannon fodder—good enough to use.

Under those circumstances, if these mortal auxilia weren't slacking off, they could already be considered a high-quality unit.

Let alone pushing themselves through such harsh climate conditions to finish their own tasks and then coming to help them build more.

Thinking about it, Caslon felt a bit ashamed.

If mortal auxilia without power armor could manage this, then he, a self-proclaimed noble Son of the Emperor, was being disgraceful by looking down on the work and refusing to act.

But why were the mortal auxilia so motivated?

Kasgar must have brainwashed them!

Looking at the Chemos-style uniform on the man, Caslon slowly found his answer.

Kasgar, you're starting to look a bit un-Imperial Truth!

Having fought countless battles, he often encountered this: among certain human Pocket Imperium enemies, there were always religious fanatics like this.

Shouting about gods and emperors, they'd charge in suicidal assaults, giving everything for the deity they preached.

All for the hope of returning to their false god's side after death.

How laughable.

Unlike the Imperium of Man, which spread the Imperial Truth across the galaxy, Such fanatical religious thought could never survive under the Imperium's official rule.

"...In the end, why do you listen to that guy Kasgar?"

"It's one thing for Lady Fulgrim to like him, but why do you all go this far for him?"

"Lord Caslon, that's a question almost everyone on Chemos gets asked."

The mortal auxilia sergeant major smiled, as if he'd expected the question.

"I think when the xenos invasion comes, our actions in battle will speak louder than dry words."

"You really believe there'll be a xenos invasion here?"

Caslon pointed incredulously at the Warp Gate, dormant for hundreds, thousands, even tens of thousands of years.

"How could something like this ever—"

Just as he was about to angrily refute these fanatical followers of Kasgar, That Warp Gate lit up.