115 Dark Crusade (Thirty-Five)

Following closely behind the Primarch, Dante entered the main bridge of the Red Tear.

The splendor and majesty of the pre-departure era have been replaced by other things. Carefully selected decorations such as flags, tapestries, and silks have been torn down from the dome covered with pearls and agates. Communication enhancement devices have been installed on the far left of the dome by the priests of the Mechanicum without any regard for aesthetics.

According to their calculations, this is the optimal angle. As for the extent to which the harmonious beauty of the dome would be compromised, that's not something they would care about.

More than this matter, they wanted to persuade Captain Laitara of the Red Tear to agree to their sweeping refit plan.

After Sanguinius made it clear that he didn't care what happened to the Red Tear's main bridge, they only had this one person left to persuade.

The female captain wanted to preserve the Red Tear's 10,000-year-old tradition, but she couldn't ignore the data advantage of the latest Cogitator. Therefore, she agreed to have the priests refit the Cogitator array on the far right of the bridge.

After the old, massive machinery was removed, the new array took up less than a third of the original area. This huge improvement delighted the crew—finally, they had a place to avoid the cables and move quickly!

But their joy did not last long, as the place was soon chosen as a temporary venue for military conferences and discussions.

A star chart table, a ship's projector, and long-distance communication equipment were arranged in an orderly fashion, yet it seemed somewhat odd. After all, logically, a conference room should be responsible for this.

But the situation is different now.

What's the difference?

The answer lies with the three Astartes who are clearly not Blood Angels.

They were gathered around the makeshift round table, discussing something back and forth. Dante glanced at them and then looked away. Similar discussions—or rather, arguments—had taken place many times in recent days, with each person stubbornly sticking to their own opinion and difficult to persuade.

This is not simply a matter of personality; there are deeper factors influencing them as well.

Dante had no intention of commenting, nor was he inclined to get involved. However, Sanguinius suddenly stopped in his tracks.

"Why don't you talk to them, Dante?" the archangel asked in a low voice, seemingly curious.

"."

"My son?"

"I just think," Dante paused, "There's no need for that, sir."

"Is that so? I'd like to hear your opinion—" Sanguinius smiled and shook his head, emphasizing, "—the complete one."

Dante nodded helplessly and began to carefully choose his words. He tried his best to make his words sound gentle, but found that he simply couldn't do it.

Ultimately, what he was about to say was extremely offensive and utterly rude.

"I don't think their discussion will change because of my involvement. Malakin Phoros wants the Lamenters to be the vanguard, as does Sentor Joe, and as for Gabriel Seth."

He shook his head, omitting the second half of his sentence, and continued, "I understand their pursuit of honor, Primarch, but, with all due respect, it seems to me that there's another reason for their obsession with the Vanguard identity—they want your approval."

Sanguinius laughed and said, "And what about you?"

Dante was taken aback.

"And you, my son?" the archangel pressed, bowing his head. "Do you also desire my approval? Well, whether you do or not, let's leave that aside for now, but your words just now were filled with a sense of smugness."

"I have to say, you've been around me for far too long, long enough that you consider wanting my approval a bad thing. What? You think their motives for joining the fight are impure, and therefore they don't deserve to be your brothers?"

The Blood Angels' Chapter Master couldn't utter a single word of rebuttal. He wanted to, but he didn't know where to begin. His fingers trembled slightly, the steel striking against each other with a soft tapping sound.

Sanguinius looked at him sternly and pointed to the round table.

"Now get involved in your brothers' discussions. You haven't participated in a single discussion since the start of the voyage; people who don't know better might think you're my bodyguard, not the Chapter Master!"

As soon as he finished speaking, the angel strode away. Three strong mortals approached him, carrying his sword, and left the bridge. The doors closed again, the Auspex ticked, and the view outside the portholes grew increasingly dark.

Dante took a deep breath and walked towards the round table.

"Ah, look who's here," a voice said, deep and resonant, making one involuntarily tense their muscles, as if facing a dangerous beast.

Dante looked at the speaker, who was staring at him with ill intent. The giant had a sharply defined face and extremely short hair, almost bald, befitting a warrior.

Seeing Dante looking at him, he even gave a provocative smile.

"Isn't this Chief Guard of Dante?" said Gabriel Seth.

He wanted to continue laughing, but for some reason his jaw suddenly tightened and his teeth clenched. A flash of dark anger crossed his face, forcing his voice to drop again, almost like a growl.

"So you've finally condescended to speak with us three beggars?"

"Don't say that, Gabriel," Malakin Phoros, the Lamenters, frowned to stop him. "You've gone a bit too far."

"Over the top? He wouldn't even give us a second glance! Who's the one being over the top? A joint operation involving four Chapter and over fifty warships, and our great mothership commander won't even attend a single meeting?"

Knights of Blood Sentor Joe sighed and tapped the round table helplessly.

"Brothers? Please, let's get back to the discussion, okay? We have things to do. We need to figure out what that psionic signal is all about."

As he spoke, an obvious impatience was evident on his pale face.

"Logically, there should be Ultramarines patrol ships and outposts, or at least sub-teams, deployed in the area where the Imperium borders the Five Hundred Worlds. However, until now, we haven't seen a single Imperium ship other than ours, not even a trace of those damned Aeldari Corsair."

"These survivors should be quite common in the Ultima Segmentum. I've finished reading the materials provided by the Departmento Munitorum; it says that the Five Hundred Worlds are suffering greatly from Xenos. Orks and insects are secondary; the real problem is the Drukhari's slave-hunting teams. They always manage to find a gap in the war to ambush our cousins."

He snorted coldly and commented, "Despicable act; they deserve to end up like this."

Dante remained silent, enduring Gabriel Seth's sarcastic remarks, Malakin Phoros's furrowed brows, and Sentor Joe's complete disregard. He simply walked silently to the round table, extended his right hand, and summoned the star map.

He zoomed in on their current location, then checked the settings to hide the entire asteroid belt and highlighted the twenty-seven nearby planets marked as inhabited. He then uploaded the data to the new Cogitator array not far away.

Soon, relying on detailed information provided by the Departmento Munitorum, they displayed a series of lists. These were the "reserve companies" of the Ultramarines, totaling twelve companies, with a conservative estimate of around 1,200 people.

Such strength is more than enough to defend this place.

However, it is indeed true that the angels' fleet did not receive a reply signal—no, they did receive one, but it was not an ordinary signal; rather, it was a psionic signal that was difficult to decipher.

Captured two times before the Terran era, it is now being deciphered by the Blood Angels' treasury, Callistarius, but a complete result has not yet been obtained.

"Three possibilities," Dante.

"First, they all met with misfortune and were unable to patrol as usual, nor could they respond to our communications signals, even though we were clearly within their detection range. Second, they were engaged in a war and therefore had no time for anything else. Third, we were facing a threat from Chaos, or perhaps from them. Therefore, the signal was intercepted and could not be transmitted normally."

"So you can talk," Gabriel Seth said indifferently.

Dante nodded, but still didn't formally engage with him verbally, or even make eye contact. Malakin, who was closest to the Flesh Tearers Chapter, keenly sensed the change in atmosphere and quickly spoke up.

"But, Lord Dante— "

"--But Dante, we are brothers," said the Blood Angels.

For some reason, he lowered his head, as if he felt somewhat apologetic.

Malakin noted this down and continued, "That psionic signal—that's the key. Its appearance here is completely illogical. None of the Astropath on any of the ships in the fleet were permitted to use their abilities just before leaving Astronomican Radiance, yet it somehow managed to reach their minds."

"And without exception," the Knights of Blood sighed. "Damn it."

He muttered as he crossed his arms, the longsword at his waist swaying precariously.

This Sons of Sanguinius, renowned for his exceptional swordsmanship, seemed to dislike the reliable belt, or perhaps this was related to the barbaric world he hailed from.

In short, his sword was strapped to his waist with a leather belt, and the scabbard was equally distinctive, made of jet-black animal hide with distinct layers of scales that shimmered with a metallic silver light.

Dante glanced at the sword, his gaze sweeping over its unremarkable hilt, and said, "I believe Calistarius will soon give us an answer."

"A Librarian?" Seth pointed this out without mincing words.

"The most promising," Dante corrected. "Exceptionally talented, and extremely cautious."

"So? He's the Chief Librarian?"

"Not yet, this position has become vacant, but he will be the next one soon," Dante said.

He seemed to be a little too patient, after all, Seth's questioning was extremely provocative. The two Chapter Master beside him exchanged a glance, each seeing in the other's eyes what they wanted to say.

If it were me...

Seth suddenly took a deep breath.

"Does he have the qualifications?" the Flesh Tearers asked gruffly, still seemingly impolite, but his tone had softened somewhat.

This is truly remarkable for someone as renowned and widely regarded as a ruthless individual who inherited the spirit of the original Flesh Tearers, Nasir Amit.

Dante gave a barely perceptible smile, nodded, and said, "Of course he does, Gabriel. I see it clearly, just as our company commanders saw certain shining qualities in us when we were young."

"I wasn't even born when you were young," Gabriel Seth said, as if laughing, or perhaps roaring.

Two crew members carrying documents passed behind them, watching the burly giant's retreating figure with fear as they quickened their pace. It was as if they worried he might do something bloody on the Red Tear, the flagship of Sanguinius.

Dante's insight led him to this discovery, causing him to frown slightly—it seemed that people still deeply misunderstood the Flesh Tearers. There was no way around it; they had perfectly inherited the violent aspects of the angel's blood.

There are many other Chapter similar to them, such as a Knights of Blood standing to the side. He and his brothers are also fond of melee combat, and even more so than the Flesh Tearers; they don't even particularly like using heavy vehicles for coordinated attacks.

In Dante's view, this was a bad habit, but ugly in a charming way. After all, violence can always play a significant role in certain situations.

As he pondered these things, two seconds slipped by unnoticed. His frown and silence caught Gabriel Seth's eye, and the anger that had subsided somewhat surged up again.

Bearing the pain of being rejected for his good intentions, the impatient Flesh Tearers suddenly strode forward and quickly approached the Blood Angels —his actions startled Malakin, who almost intervened to stop him, but the Knights of Blood held him back.

Sentor Joe pointed him in another direction.

There, Sanguinius stared blankly at the scene, oblivious to the fact that the other two Chapter Masters were completely unaware of it. At least, Gabriel Seth was completely unaware that he was immersed in some indescribable complex emotion.

He tilted his head back and glared angrily at Dante.

"Let me make things clear to you, old man," he growled. "At first, I was honored to fight alongside a legend like you."

"Dante, Louis Dante, the warrior who single-handedly repelled the demonic tide, the Chapter Master of the Mother Order. Others may have forgotten who you are, but I will not. I remember every hero among us. The Flesh Tearers remembers all."

"But not now, because I've found your arrogance astonishing. You've disappointed me, and you will disappoint my brothers in the future. They all respect you, and I won't expose the truth; I'll let them discover for themselves what kind of person you really are."

He gave a fake smile, revealing the sharp fangs characteristic of Sons of Sanguinius: "After all, I don't want them to hate me."

"So you hate me?" Dante asked.

"Do you even deserve it?" Seth replied.

Dante reached out and grabbed him, saying calmly, "It seems you have a deep misunderstanding of me, brother."

The Blood Angels placed his left hand on his waist.

Let us speak with our swords.

The Flesh Tearers readily agreed.