New Army

"Apologize to the lady." Rogal Dorn folded his arms as the bruised and battered Black Templars bowed in unison to Oedmeir. "We're sorry, ma'am."

"Ah, whatever." Oedmeir scratched her head indifferently. Having received a message, she hurriedly turned and left.

Rogal Dorn and his sons remained in the prison, hoping to learn why his sons had ended up in such a state.

The other primarchs knew the next conversation was not meant for their curious ears. Only Perturabo secretly left behind a recorder, but Jaghatai casually tucked it into his robes, foiling Perturabo's plan.

While Lin Fan was busy dealing with the Ghoul Stars, Oedmeir had pushed the development of the Big Hotel Galaxy at a rather excessive pace.

Oedmeir knew how much the Imperium's loose and chaotic departments revered the Adeptus Mechanicus, so whenever she traveled abroad, she claimed to be a Fabricator-General from Mars headquarters, specifically sent by the Machine God to help develop remote and impoverished regions.

The Mechanicus orders on every planet greeted Oedmeir's arrival with deep dissatisfaction and hostility. They would never casually hand over the authority to interpret the Machine God's doctrines to an outsider of unknown origins.

"If you claim to be an executor of the Machine God's will, then you should display knowledge worthy of that claim!"

The Mechanicus Archmagi spoke to Oedmeir with contempt. Behind them stood displays of the Machine God's power: colossal furnaces towering like mountains, and the Machine Legion moving through them amid endless praise and worship.

Oedmeir furrowed her brow, sighed, and casually wrote down several simple calculation problems for these overconfident Archmagi.

The Archmagi accepted the questions and used every method at their disposal to solve them.

First, they used their own bodies to calculate. Then they linked every tech-priest in the order in parallel to