This Is Our Warhammer Journey

"......"

Tyberos couldn’t control his expression for a moment, his dull eyes lowered as he tried to figure out if Romulus’s words were a jab.

He looked at the three men who had immediately fallen down again and suppressed his urge to rush in and fight. He spoke up:

"This is a one-of-a-kind sword guard."

"Of course."

Romulus said with certainty.

He was just kidding; he had Arthur fight to win all the way through. If you didn’t give these proud sharks a good first impression, how could you earn their respect?

As for whether Arthur would lose...

That was never a real concern.

Without heavy weapons, even Romulus himself couldn’t win in a war of attrition against him, and Arthur had even managed to knock him down alongside his own self.

Apart from Garna, who could completely disrupt Arthur's rhythm with his Black Rage to win, Arthur could easily take on the other two.

But Garna was too unstable—his Black Rage and Bloodthirst were battlefield talents, and if he slipped up and killed someone in a duel, things wouldn’t end well.

Romulus pondered this, but didn’t forget to chat with Tyberos.

Usually, Romulus would start talking, and the warband leader of the Devouring Sharks would either stay silent or grunt, exuding the vibe of an awkward, socially shy teenager.

The battle below, as the two exchanged words, was gradually nearing its end.

Amid the cheers of the atmosphere crew of the Astra Militarum, Arthur had already knocked out the entire third company.

Originally, the Astra Militarum, who had been on alert due to the sharks’ sudden ambush, began to see these rough and downtrodden soldiers in a new light as the seemingly ridiculous duel went on.

It seemed like these warriors didn’t really care about winning or losing. After they lost, at most, they were disappointed for not winning a power armor for their warband, but soon after, they happily returned to their squads with brand new chain axes.

This scene was strangely familiar to the Astra Militarum.

It was very similar to when they had been told by their colonel to bring their worst and most broken equipment to request supplies during the victory parade on an ocean planet.

Back then, they didn’t really care if their superior looked down on them as long as they got their gear.

It seemed like they had done this at every parade except on Cadia.

"Akia."

The call from the Apothecary broke the third company leader’s trance as he was still lost in the joy of eating.

He lifted his head and glanced around, only to notice that even the Apothecary had received his new weapon.

"Heh."

The bloodshot eyes inherited from another Primarch, completely different from the other sharks, widened, and Akia couldn’t help but sneer.

"Sharl!"

He asked one of his warriors, who looked somewhat like him.

"How many hits did you take?"

"One."

The young warrior, holding his axe, muttered in a low voice.

A sword had sent his weapon flying and left a scar on his cheek.

He had failed to win the war of attrition with over a hundred men.

To be honest, this was quite embarrassing, but the sharks didn’t seem too upset.

"It’s your turn now."

They said, clearly happy to see their company leader suffer.

"Alright, let me give it a try."

Akia wiped the remnants off the corner of his mouth, dispelled the anger from his Devourer gene source rising in his mind, grabbed his ‘Death’s Hand’ chain axe, and jumped into the arena.

He pointed his weapon at the sword guard.

"Hey, is this weapon going to be replaced if it’s broken?"

It was so blunt, so straightforward that it made people feel uneasy.

And Arthur was certain that if he responded with “no replacement,” this guy would definitely jump back to fetch a slightly older axe.

"I can replace it with an identical one."

Akia inexplicably felt a chill, and his instinctive warning drove him to raise his heavy axe blade.

Clang!

The murderous intent filled the air, making the atmosphere sharp and cold.

Akia’s battle-hardened instincts helped him, and the heavy axe body blocked the sharp blade.

"But you have to answer one question."

Arthur pulled his blade back and lunged again.

This time, the movement was much slower, as if his endurance had been exhausted by the earlier war of attrition.

But only Akia knew that the other side was giving him a chance to answer.

"Blood tithe, why are you so obsessed with strength?"

"Do you care?"

Akia forced a few words out between his teeth.

"Yes, I care."

The sword guard easily pressed down on Akia’s axe handle.

"Just like a person needs to consume energy and train their body to grow stronger, why do you collect blood tithes to pursue the strength of the group?"

If you are striving for strength at the expense of harming your own people, there must be a reason.

Just like his comrades, who all chose to explore risks for the future of everyone and seek power, while Arthur, as the final backup, was the trump card in case everything collapsed.

So he too had to be strong.

And this body was truly gifted.

Watching every muscle movement of Akia, Arthur, relying on his non-stop training with Romulus and his understanding of the Space Marine physique from Lamessis’s research, easily suppressed the seasoned warrior with the same strength.

He absolutely couldn’t be weak.

But why did the Devouring Sharks do it?

They could easily go to an outlying star and become local tyrants or return to the Imperium and find a good place. After all, even the Raven King wasn’t in the Imperium anymore, and the secret edict had no real power.

"Hmph!"

Akia snorted, not answering immediately.

But his gaze shifted, landing on the Astra Militarum warriors standing with the Space Marines, shouting for the duel.

"For humanity."

For the first time, Arthur finally heard this word from a human in this world.

"This is the mission granted to us by the Void’s First Father."

Alright, still for the Emperor.

"Are you willing to turn into a beast to defend humanity from encroaching enemies?"

Arthur sighed.

A generation of people who once took a planet just to protect the humans of other planets?

It was quite sad. The trolley problem in this universe was simply a multiple-choice question.

"Have you ever thought about changing?"

The sword guard boldly stepped forward, pushed aside the chain axe, and forced Akia to retreat.

"Change? You mean like these mortals?"

He had already realized who had provided these mortals with their equipment, and he also understood how a ship so heavily damaged could end up in such a state.

"The kindness and humanity you hope for, I don't think it will last long."

Akia spoke frankly.

"We are trying."

His muscles swelled as the sword blade, sharp and precise like a falcon, met the weak point of the chain axe. With the heavy pressure between the steel, the axe blade began to deform.

Clang!

With a crisp sound, the struggle ended.

"But how much can you change? Your people don't even have as many as we do."

Akia was knocked to the ground by the impact, a scratch appearing on his cheek.

He propped himself up on one side and spoke, without any sarcasm.

The aphid shaking the tree, the pursuit of human goodness inevitably brings painful consequences in this universe, that is a known formula.

Didn’t you see how those warbands that cared about mortals fared worse and worse?

"How about you?"

The surrounding cheers had stopped at some point.

Akia looked back at the high platform, where the onlookers were gradually getting up, beginning to pack away the supplies.

He looked at Tyberos, the warband leader said nothing, only silently put on his helmet.

"...We only fight. We can do nothing else."

"We'll try, and that's enough."

The sword guard, receiving the reply, shrugged indifferently and smiled.

The servo skull, carrying a power axe, approached and extended its hand toward Akia.

"It’s yours now, war dog."

The engine of the Stormbird roared, as if in response.

"And we—"

"Should be on our way."