Have I Become an Ork?

"Then the next thing I need to figure out is what exactly this cheat of mine is..." Sandman frowned as he rubbed his starving stomach pouch, then grabbed an entire block of Corpse Starch...

Crack...

The Corpse Starch, originally so hard it required a sharp blade to cut, was bitten straight through. Teeth comparable to steel ground the Starch Block, which ordinary people needed to soak in water, into powder like a rock crusher.

With a gulp, Sandman swallowed the Corpse Starch. His gastric fluids rapidly digested it, and the converted energy was swiftly sent throughout his limbs and body.

In no time at all, Sandman had eaten an entire stick of Corpse Starch. Only after swallowing three sticks did the hunger in his stomach finally begin to ease.

"Have I become a bottomless pit?" That was the only thought that came to Sandman's mind as he picked up a strip of jerky from the side and gnawed on it.

Ever since Korax had arrived, he had noticed that his body was becoming increasingly active, while his physical strength constantly improved. That was why he had snapped the bowstring while fighting the Skull Breakers.

"Something within my territory is being absorbed by me and used to strengthen me?" Sandman arrived at this conclusion after observing for so long.

At first, he had merely felt hungry more quickly. But later, it was obvious that even his psychic power seemed to be continuously strengthening.

"It's related to the population living in the territory, their individual level of life... or perhaps their status?" After ruling out many factors, such as the types and reserves of ore, Sandman reached this conclusion.

At first, he had thought it was because of his innate talent for mining—the more ore he accumulated, the rarer it was, the faster his body strengthened. The more he mined, the more of a natural workhorse he became.

Ever since Korax joined his territory, however, he had realized that was not the case. His strength, which had already stabilized, suddenly erupted with growth more exaggerated than ever before. That was when he understood.

It was no wonder Sandman had only just realized it. The camp's population and ore output had both remained generally stable, and he could not sense minor differences.

Only when Korax called him boss did he feel it.

In other words, something about Korax was stronger than everyone in the entire camp combined by an unknown number of times. Otherwise, Sandman would still be dutifully mining away...

Put simply, Sandman's cheat became stronger the larger his territory was, the more people it had, and the more elites it contained.

"Have I become one of the Orks? Heh, then wouldn't I really be able to punch the Four Ruinous Powers and stomp Yellow Skin underfoot someday?" Sandman thought of the Orks, known as the Milky Way's psoriasis.

There was no other reason. If his guess was correct, then the Raven Guard would count as his subjects from now on, along with all the worlds the Raven Guard reclaimed and administered during the Great Crusade.

The feudal lords granted lands were still feudal lords of the same nation. Could the states granted to them cease to belong to the Imperium of Man just because they had been parceled out?

No one in this universe had the nerve to do that, because anyone who did would be gunned down.

He barely dared to imagine what that meant.

As the Emperor's foremost enforcers, Primarchs possessed tremendous authority. They had the right to establish their own fiefdoms on worlds they conquered.

As long as they paid taxes according to Terra's requirements and did not interfere with the Emperor's efforts to tinker with the Webway, the Emperor did not care who governed them. Taxes were taxes, no matter who paid them, right? (Only Primarch homeworlds enjoyed top-tier tax exemption.)

Not just Primarchs—even Rogue Traders possessed immense authority. The name Rogue Trader sounded ordinary enough, without much distinction.

But if one changed the name, everyone would understand just how much weight it carried: military governor.

That was right. Rogue Traders were the Imperium's great frontier lords. Blood Drinker Rogue Traders in particular possessed authority without limits. They had their own Rogue Trader dynasties, and ordinary planetary governors often had to rely on them to revitalize their planets' economies.

They also had their own armed fleets. The greatest military force the Imperium allowed a Rogue Trader to possess was the Lunar Class Cruiser, known as the lifelong nemesis of Tau Lords.

They were terrifying capital ships five kilometers long, their hulls covered in vicious Macro Cannons and Lance systems.

Most Primarchs did not have the time or energy to establish fiefdoms. They merely set up recruitment points on conquered planets, or reached friendly cooperation agreements with Forge Worlds and worlds possessing special resources.

Managing fiefdoms required a great deal of time and effort. Combined with the Emperor's demands for the progress of the Great Crusade, the Primarchs basically only cared about killing. The aftermath was left to the bureaucratic system of Malcador, Lord Protector of the Imperium.

It was precisely because of this that Guilliman stood out so much in the eyes of his brothers. Anyone would think he was brimming with ambition.

While everyone else was busy hacking and slashing, Guilliman was behind them building up his own fiefdom on a grand scale—and managing it in perfect order.

Brother, when you act like this, how can we not question your loyalty?

It was definitely not because Guilliman had parents, was far too well-mannered and well-bred, and seemed utterly out of place among his other brothers.

"By that logic, couldn't I eventually charge onto Terra, seize the Emperor's damn seat, and sit upon the Golden Throne myself?

Pah, pah, pah, stop, stop. I don't want to sit on that shitty Golden Throne. Being the retired emperor is still acceptable." Sandman quickly reined in his thoughts. The Golden Throne was far too terrifying; the Emperor could enjoy it himself. Sandman had no desire for such a blessing.

Still, the challenge of making Korax the second Emperor was immense.

The Nine Sons' Struggle for the Throne had turned the heavens and earth upside down. The Emperor now had twenty-one fine sons. Even if two were gone later, there would still be nineteen.

Even if the Great Heresy unfolded as usual and half of them embraced Chaos, there would still be nine and a half left.

"Forget such distant matters. Just stay alive and take things one step at a time. Maybe the future will produce a Warp projection for me, or maybe I'll suddenly kick the bucket one day."

Now that Sandman had roughly figured out the nature of his cheat, he naturally understood that a projection belonging to him would inevitably be born in the Warp someday.

However, before that Warp projection had fully brewed into existence, even he did not know what abilities it would possess.

More importantly, he first had to face the ubiquitous malice of the Milky Way.

For now, the veil between reality and the Warp remained relatively sturdy, so there was no need to consider Chaos in the short term.

But none of the Xenos in the Material Universe were easy to deal with. Every species that had managed to avoid extermination in the Milky Way was extraordinarily powerful.

Not to mention the Eldar, whose entire race was made up of masters of Psychic Power; the Necrons, who possessed the pinnacle of Material Universe technology; and the Orks, who spread everywhere like psoriasis. These rule-breaking beings were bad enough, but even the other obscure Xenos alone were enough to give the human fleets of the Great Crusade a hard time.

The Hrud, who controlled the power of entropy decay, possessed unique time-manipulation abilities that could make even Perturabo, the Iron Warriors Primarch with an endless lifespan, grow white hair.