This Is Our Warhammer Journey

"Lord Tyberos, please follow me."

Colonel Kovek, who had regained his footing, let out a sigh of relief. If not for Romulus' reminder, they would have activated the magnetic pull function of their void armor earlier, and now the transport troops would have to go into outer space to pick people up.

Compared to Lord Romulus, these warriors, clad in fierce and somewhat crude armor, seemed indifferent to honor and ceremony.

He took a deep breath, pushed aside the subtle emotions, and once again adopted a sense of reverence for the Emperor's Angels. He then arrived before the Sharks, escorted by an Ironclad, and extended the invitation.

"Romulus has prepared a proper welcome ceremony for you."

The shabby Devouring Sharks looked bewildered as the mortals ushered them into the pre-arranged banquet hall.

In their view, there was no sign of the disarray from the previous heavy damage, nor any appearance of the stray hunting dogs displaying their vicious fangs to protect their meager scraps.

The Ironclad Terminators, standing in perfect formation, and the huge vehicles used as backdrop, became stunning decorations in the banquet.

The Sharks lowered their heads, staring at the sumptuous dishes on the table, only to find them tasteless.

Weren’t we supposed to be here to rescue a bunch of battered survivors?

Why does the ship look like two completely different things inside and out?

The Sharks cautiously sized up their surroundings, as well as the Ironclad Terminators guarding the mortals. The glossy finish and exquisite decorations of their armor were in stark contrast to the rivets on their own shoulder guards and the pale greyish paint worn down by time.

At a glance, it appeared as if it was the Devouring Sharks who were being helped.

"Do you want it?"

Romulus asked suddenly, his thoughts already divided into several parts, speaking with the other Sharks, gathering information.

Unfortunately, most of the Sharks were silent, only showing surprise when the Ironclads around them spoke in the same tone as theirs.

They were all waiting for the command of the Dark Lord.

"......"

Tyberos sat down heavily in the seat prepared for him, staring blankly at the bountiful dishes on the table, sinking into silence.

To say he didn’t want it would be a lie.

But considering the value of these equipment and vehicles—honestly, he already regretted letting Akia handle the negotiations from the start.

If these were his own things, and someone came along and took half of them under the guise of rescue, he would have no choice but to fight a bloody battle with them.

Meeting with such a wealthy battle company should lead to friendship, perhaps even a long-term cooperative relationship, not just grabbing a bite and leaving.

"As I just said," Romulus seemed to not care at all about the previous offense by the Sharks. His gaze fell on Tyberos’ lightning claws, as if hinting at something.

"If you want it, you have to take it yourself."

"......"

Why does it feel like he knows these lightning claws were taken from the Claws of Ash after a duel?

Enshrouded in his indomitable power armor, the ceramite and adamantium shields gave Tyberos no sense of security at this moment.

Though the helmet, modified from an indomitable Terminator’s, still served its sacred duty, concealing and protecting his unusually pale face, it felt like his undergarments had been seen through.

Tyberos looked to Teh'kahulangi, the brain of the battle company, only to find that the librarian had already removed his helmet and was conversing with the Deathwatch librarian.

So this is what it feels like when those psykers play with prophecy?

Romulus looked at the dazed Tyberos, no longer intending to apply more pressure.

"Let’s duel."

He pointed toward the Stormbird in the lower hangar.

Building a dueling platform would be too troublesome, so Romulus directly used the top of a Stormbird as the dueling platform, and the view was just perfect.

"First blood."

This was the ancient dueling ritual, where the match was considered over when the first drop of blood was drawn.

Bang—

Lights flashed down, illuminating the wings.

The Black-armored swordsman, having removed his power pack, stood in the middle of the arena, issuing an invitation to the Sharks present, exuding an overwhelming aura without restraint.

The swordsman's stance was flawless, the heavy scent of blood licking at the wings of the Stormbird, making the young machine spirit tremble in excitement.

"Let us speak in your most familiar way."

Romulus said.

"With swords."

The Sharks began to stir uneasily, their fiery gazes converging on Arthur on the wings, and the mk4 power armor arranged neatly as the Stormbird unfolded.

No, why is he so familiar? Is this my chapter or your chapter?

Tyberos no longer pretended to be quiet. The other party clearly understood his chapter's culture, and even though their first impression was bad, they still gave him a way out.

If he didn’t accept now, it would be an insult to their face.

He decisively removed his helmet, raised his hand, and issued the Devouring Sharks' unique command.

Whoosh!

A Shark immediately stood up and leapt toward the dueling platform.

The next second.

Clang!

The Shark was shot back onto the platform at the same speed of his fall, lying on the metal floor with his back exposed.

The Apothecary rushed forward to check, only to see that the Shark's weapon had been cut off at its weakest point, with a shallow scratch on his gauntlet, blood oozing from the wound.

The Apothecary stood, nodding lightly to the Chapter Master.

Other than the scratch on his hand and the stiffness from being kicked, he was fine.

Whoosh!

A finely crafted chainsaw axe landed at his feet.

With the speed his body couldn’t even react to.

"This is an apology."

Arthur lowered his blade and looked up at the watching Sharks.

"Maybe you could have a few more people?"

Whoosh—

Three more Sharks stood up.

The Sharks didn’t care about so-called honor. The default one-on-one duel was necessary respect for the opponent, but since the other side had issued the challenge, they wouldn’t pass up this advantageous condition.

But their movements were quickly stopped by their comrades.

Their comrades silently selected the most battered three weapons and handed them over to the three challengers.

Akia, who had originally planned to rise and win victory for the chapter, also reacted, quickly sitting back down and continuing to feast.

"This is what sharks are like."

Romulus couldn’t help but sigh, marveling at the interesting scene. It truly allowed him to witness the spiritual core of the Sharks.

Whether malicious or kind, as long as it didn’t cross the line, the Sharks would simply base their attitudes on the external environment. They were never bound by honor, nor did they express likes or dislikes toward any action—only its necessity.

Just like now.

Such people were the easiest to change.