Dedicate loyalty to the good empire

Chapter 488: I am a Macragge?
This year, Valhalla welcomed spring for the first time, the snow melted, and the trees turned green.

It might be caused by subspace fluctuations, or it might be a problem with some complex planetary cycle. Of course, those are not things Taylor needs to think about.

During this time, he has been helping the Valhallans repair their industrial lines and capabilities and teaching them how to use the low-Earth orbit farms in the void.

At the same time, Dark Angel used his own fleet and part of the Damocles fleet's warships to quickly open up a short but vital trade route for the Valhallan people.

Links almost 4 empire worlds, representing industry, construction, agriculture and transportation trade.

Although they were all in ruins due to the invasion of the gods, those worlds had real hope when the Emperor's Angel of Death descended from the sky.

Now those agrarian worlds begin to produce food once more, the forge worlds once more fire their furnaces, and the religious worlds and trade hubs once more spread the Emperor's light.

For the first time, people realized, no.

To be precise, it was the first time that Taylor realized the huge rotten and corrupt empire.

That ancient and embarrassing giant corpse is the final salvation for countless struggling ordinary people and for those hive worlds.

He was now drinking Reka coffee in the Valhalla fortress, and the old political commissar of the Valhalla people was reporting the progress of the repairs slowly.

Finally, he concluded with his catchphrase.

"Holy Praise Emperor."

"We finally have a future."

These two sentences sounded so bitter, even more bitter than coffee, not to mention that the quality of the coffee in Taylor's hand was far from good.

After all, it has been stored for about 40 years, and the taste is already close to something weird.

The good news is that Valhalla is full of these reserves, including canned goods, medical items, resources, weapons and equipment.

But it’s not that they collected too much, but that too many of them died in the previous demon invasion.

But the good news is that the Valhallan people live underground, and with the more or less resistance of a large number of local greenskins and the Imperial Guard, they have successfully reduced the amount of Chaos left in this world.

A few priests prayed a few words, and then the psykers cleaned up the mess, and Valhalla would be just as it was before...

Well, it can’t be called rich, but at least it’s clean.

Even so, Taylor is worth remembering by the people of Valhalla for the rest of their lives.

Finally, as a reward, the Valhalla 368th Mixed Armored Regiment naturally joined the Damocles Fleet.

But surprisingly, the greatest pleasure or the thing they do most is not any traditional customs, but fighting with all the Blood Axe Greenskins belonging to Taylor that they can meet.

Not limited to arm wrestling, close combat, knife fighting and no-rules fighting.

The reason is very simple, because the Valhallan people have "coexisted peacefully" with the greenskins for thousands of years.

So much so that they believe that a good Valhalla man (or woman, depending on whether she is willing to join the army) must fight a greenskin as a rite of passage.

This idea is almost ingrained and seriously exaggerated, but the new generation of Valhallans have only seen demons.

Because the greenskins were almost wiped out by those things.

After all, Valhalla is a human world, and the Imperial Guard has absolute dominance.

But what's interesting is that the buffer provided by those greenskins allowed some of the Valhallans to escape.

Now those Valhallans are filled with resentment towards the greenskins, yet at the same time they look forward to them.

Those people would shoot and kill the greenskins without hesitation, and then thank the Emperor from the bottom of their hearts for allowing them to see those things again.

Because they are much better than demons... but do they really want them to live in harmony with the greenskins?
To be honest, in just a few months, the number of greenskin teeth that the Valhallans knocked out with their fists was enough to buy a big dirty car, which is not a small amount of money for the greenskins.

Of course, this is also thanks to the fact that the green-skinned creatures' teeth can regenerate.

Of course, the love-hate relationship between the Valhallans and the greenskins ends here.

They couldn't produce weapons, ammunition, and Reka coffee even if they smashed their brains.

Their supplies had been almost exhausted in the war, especially in the Battle of Valhalla, where Taylor spent almost all his money.

As for getting supplies from the Valhallans, or trying to get them from neighboring worlds, that's probably not reliable.

To be honest, they are equivalent to disaster victims, the kind of victims who have experienced a doomsday-level disaster.

If he took another ration or supply from them, Taylor would probably not be able to sleep all night.

This is not because he has any noble morals, but simply because he is still a human being.

Thinking of this, the list of supplies in Taylor's hand looked more and more like a time bomb, but in the dark side of the empire, long-distance warp jumps were not possible, and he could only make short-distance blind jumps in the warp along one Mandeville point at a time.

To be honest, if they did not have the best navigators in the entire empire and the thinking power of the greenskins, it would be almost impossible to walk safely in the dark side of the empire.

They had seen too many space hulks along the way, and it was obvious that Taylor didn't want to become one of them.

For the first time, he was so eager to get off the ship, although he had long been fed up with the war, and getting off the ship basically meant war.

Because he is a soldier.

It was his responsibility, his damn responsibility.

Taylor couldn't help but sigh. Fortunately, the few supplies he had were more durable than most people imagined.

The first time they stepped out of the dark side of the Empire, countless astropathic messages and those complex signals appeared, and the psykers were no longer in pain.

People saw the bright light of the Astronomican.

The light of the Emperor, the light of the Lord of Mankind.

It's like seeing a lighthouse in the darkness, like seeing hope in confusion, enough to make people cry.

Some people began to kiss the deck beneath their feet, and some recited the Word of the Emperor (written by Primarch Lorgar) to express their feelings.

But the most important thing for Taylor is that he returned to the Five Hundred Worlds.

Of course, he was born on the edge of the Ultramarine, and the only specialties of his hometown were snow and pollutants.

He had never thought that he would become a resident of the Five Hundred Worlds, not to mention that he had citizenship and his own property in Macragge.

This long and torturous vacation has obviously come to an end. Taylor prefers to use overtime to refer to this overly exciting trip.

But he could imagine the expression on the Primarch's face, Mister Guilliman's face, when he saw that he had reclaimed two famous recruiting worlds and two sectors for the Imperium.

He was probably overjoyed, and at the same time he couldn't wait for the Kriegs and Valhallans to join the war.

Of course, this does not mean that Guilliman is inhumane, on the contrary.

Guilliman had no choice, the Empire lacked everything now.

Thinking of this, Taylor looked at the many messages sent from the Five Hundred Worlds. Now, for the first time, he felt a sense of home in the Empire and in this terrible world.

He loved the order forged by Guilliman, and he would defend that order until his death...

(End of this chapter)