One month.
For every Sons of the Emperor recruit, this month of intensive training had been an utterly novel experience.
Especially for recruits of Terran descent, the newest training methods had pushed their confrontations to an intense level.
Previously, they had at most used tactics like baiting enemies into traps or besieging a point to ambush reinforcements.
But now, "ancient" tactics such as electronic interference and information blackout were truly being incorporated into Astartes combat.
How to use them, and when to use them, was left entirely to the grassroots companies of the Sons of the Emperor to decide for themselves.
"We are the Sons of the Emperor, the most perfect Astartes."
"Every one of our soldiers should be able to make their own judgment regarding the battle situation."
"It does not matter if your judgment is wrong. The battlefield changes by the instant, and we are not omniscient Laplace's Demons. Even superhuman Primarchs would not dare claim that they could never make a mistake."
"What matters is learning from those mistakes and continuing to approach perfection."
These experiences were especially novel to them.
Commanding battles was generally the business of Primarchs or commanders.
Recruits like them had only ever needed to carry out orders.
Where were they going? Who were they looking for?
How many were they killing?
Now they actually had to work out tactical arrangements themselves and counter the enemy's moves.
Not only could they no longer just happily chop people apart, they also had to constantly set traps, deceive, and reflect.
Their heads hurt.
But Kasgar had stressed that if they encountered something in their heads claiming it could give them answers, they absolutely must not believe it.
That was a scam Psychic Power call. Do not answer it carelessly.
Then Kasgar told them a ridiculous