This Is Our Warhammer Journey

Ah—

A sigh, filled with nearly ten thousand years of sorrow.

Rameses furrowed his brow.

“Did you hear anything?”

“Huh?”

The three of them cast puzzled glances, and then noticed that both the priest and the nun had begun praying, and there was a gleaming light falling on their own armor.

“…Forget I said anything.”

Everyone understood what was going on.

Just assume Old Man Huang was having another episode.

Thankfully, everyone knew each other well enough, or else it would have turned into “arrogant pointing.”

“My bad, I was overly suspicious. Sorry.”

Romulus apologized honestly.

To be honest, Romulus sincerely believed that the most important gift the four of them, the transmigrators, received after arriving in this world was not only the amazing powers but also a heart full of reverence for everything in the universe.

This gave him a strong sense of security as a transmigrator.

If someone was constantly causing trouble or reporting false information, just the thought of it would make anyone feel hopeless.

“So, are we going now?”

Arthur decisively drew his sword, and the black sword still glowing with holy light caught the priest’s attention.

Ever since the interrogation started, his gaze had occasionally fallen on that sword.

“Wait a bit, I still need some time over here.”

Romulus removed his helmet and rubbed his hair, which had absorbed some moisture from the temperature difference.

“When’s it gonna be?”

“God knows when the first operation will be a high-speed assault.”

Romulus gritted his teeth.

“I have to suit up forty Ironclads one by one.”

You need assistance to get into a Terminator suit, let alone take it off.

“Correction, excluding Arthur and Garna, who also have to carry out assault missions, it’s 37. You can save yourself three suits.”

Rameses relished the misfortune.

“Take your numerology and get out of here.”

“Hahaha, I’m not going.”

Rameses pressed on.

“By the way, Arthur.”

Romulus, who was still changing the Ironclads’ gear, didn’t bother with his foolish son and instead gave him a reminder.

“Inform Shark that we have a way to catch the Dark Eldar’s tail and tell him to prepare 130 people for a joint assault with us, but we need to command it.”

He wasn’t about to bother Tyberos directly. As a chapter master, he had his dignity to maintain. After being ordered around, he might as well quit.

“Garna, go help me bring a shipload of people, and tell Shark we’ll clear out a spot on this ship. I need to run a simulation and check for any vulnerabilities to ensure the success rate is as high as possible.”

Romulus was studying the map of the Ark’s occupied areas.

“Doesn’t that mean you need to suit up more?”

“Suit up, it’s better to be tired than dead.”

“Alright then.”

The two nodded and immediately started acting separately.

“Akiya.”

In a secluded corner, Arthur, dressed in pitch-black battle armor, approached Shark’s third squad leader.

As a Reaper among the Devouring Sharks, negotiating with Imperial forces was part of this squad’s responsibilities, so as the squad leader, Akiya was naturally included.

Arthur didn’t take off his Hellforge Terminator armor. At their level, the speed limitation caused by the armor was nearly nonexistent.

“Lord Arthur.”

Akiya glanced around the empty surroundings, wondering if Arthur had something secret to share.

After confirming no one was around, Arthur relayed Romulus’ instructions to Akiya and asked him to pass them on to Tyberos.

Thirty seconds later.

Akiya walked out of the passage, returning to Shark’s squad, with a bloodthirsty smile still visible at the corner of his mouth under his helmet.

At first, when he heard Arthur’s recounting, he instinctively thought this wave of xenos wouldn’t be a challenge. But since the old guys said they had a plan, they couldn’t back out of the fight.

Listening to the hum of servos inside his armor, Akiya’s innate combativeness made him instinctively disregard the fact that Romulus was still testing his strategy—something not for him to worry about.

His muscle fibers twitched, and he clenched his fist, itching for action.

Did you see his armor? The Great Crusade’s finely crafted Warhound power armor, performance maximized, and even his weapons had been upgraded to superior power axes.

This time, he was definitely going to chop a few more xenos and sharpen his blade.

Another thirty seconds later.

Arthur and Garna, accompanied by Space Marines equipped with lasguns, walked out of the Raven Hawk’s cabin, silently nodding to Romulus, then looking toward the trade area where the results had already been decided.

“According to the ancient contract, the Devouring Sharks will receive twenty Unyielding Terminators, including repair components, thirty base-model explosive rounds, and two hundred explosive weapon sets. Do you need me to adjust the production line to swap for power armor?”

After retracting the mechanical device, the black box’s hole self-healed in an instant. Great Sage Kaor then spoke to Tyberos.

Compared to the mechanical sage’s robotic speech, Great Sage Kaor’s tone was notably more human.

“No need.”

Tyberos flatly refused. He had already helped the chapter replenish quite a bit of power armor recently, enough for the short term. The same went for weapons.

If he kept training with Arthur, he could get a lot more, teaching all he could, which would also help improve his own strength.

“Change all weapons to explosive rounds and demolition gear, as well as repair tools.”

He hadn’t forgotten that both the Devouring Sharks and the Deathwatch were short on cheap basic ammo.

As for the Unyielding Terminators, they still needed to ensure they were in storage. Though their performance had degraded, they still fit the current combat mode of the chapters.

The Ironclads didn’t have enough physical aptitude to wear them, making them clumsy and not very suitable for the Devouring Sharks. The Hellforge was too expensive, and arming a whole squad would take over a hundred suits.

Romulus was willing to give Tyberos some, but he had no face to accept them.

At least he had to play the lackey for the old guys, who were possibly younger than him, and repay the favor before thinking about anything else.

“Sure.”

The Great Sage didn’t mind, and a few servitors started dragging containers away.

“Production capacity needs to be adjusted. You can come to this warehouse in 13 hours to pick up the goods.”

“Mm.”

Tyberos nodded in approval, showing no intention of bargaining.

Romulus furrowed his brow upon hearing the details of the trade.

Two STCs—one for a snack that cured most space-related occupational diseases, and the other for a drink made from a few common elements—didn’t seem all that useful to the Empire, which had been in a constant high-pressure war. They shouldn’t be this cheap, right?

Turns out, the idea of exchanging an STC for an entire planet was a lie. It all depended on who you were dealing with, and the Adeptus Mechanicus had clearly figured out that the Sharks, as a chapter, didn’t have the bargaining power to contest them.

And with so little, they still needed to adjust production capacity?