This is our Warhammer journey

Chapter 534 You know, humanity is an inclusive race.
Amagidodon, Hades's Nest City, the balcony outside the rear hall of the Military Council.

The sunlight slanted across the streets of Hades' hive, finally stopping before the spire that now represented the highest authority in all of Amegiddton.

The smoke and clouds that rose with the war had long been drawn away by the Mechanicus' weather weapons, and along with the harmful gases, they turned into rain and concentrated in the rainforest ruins of the already destroyed Amegidoton subcontinent.

Temporary conscripts were demobilized, the main force began to rest and recuperate, and officials from the Ministry of the Interior were recounting the population and making arrangements for their post-war work and residence. Wartime factories gradually ceased operations to provide necessary support for a series of subsequent reconstruction efforts.

Interpersonal communication is no longer limited to war-related matters. People gradually put aside the pain of separation and death and begin to talk about their future plans, so that they can face a better tomorrow with bodies that still have enough vitality.

With the end of the war that threatened survival, life has entered a new phase.

Reconstruction and development.

Then prepare for the next war.

"Space Necromancers?"

Arthur was initially surprised by Tarachin's request.

He glanced at Ramses and sighed inwardly, thinking that this guy was truly raised in the environment of a wealthy first-generation only child, and he really didn't miss any opportunity to make people work overtime.

Then he fell into deep thought.

Based on the facts, the four of them do indeed possess unparalleled technological advantages, as well as more favorable conditions compared to other entities with similar technological advantages.

Can Dawnwing leverage this technological advantage to reach some truly unique agreements?
can.

Based on the previous handling of the Eldar, it can be said that they directly swallowed up the entirety of an important branch of the race.

Because one party genuinely has an urgent need to get rid of Slaanesh, and the other party truly knows how awesome they are.

Thus, a comprehensive agreement was reached with both parties happy.

However, the space necromancer is more subtle.

First of all, this race is different from the Eldar.

The Eldar were still clinging to life, not yet dead, so once they saw the salvation, they were absolutely unwilling to give up.

Even a straw would make these people flock to it, let alone a thigh.

The Fearless Ones are already dead; the current Space Necromancers are just a group of iron men who call themselves the Fearless Ones.

Many self-proclaimed "fearers of death," such as emperors and overlords who possess complete intelligence, actually have a very clear understanding of this.

But after all, the dead should be respected.

Even though I've fallen to this state, can't I still say something defiant?
They're all dead, and this is all they've got to hold on to. What's wrong with being a little stubborn and comforting yourself?
This reflects the attitude of the vast majority of the still-thinking members within the Space Necromancers.

In fact, the Necromancers in space have always been rather indifferent to the so-called bio-transformation, or rather, even if they have a need, they will not rush to do it. After all, none of the other Hierophants are like the Silent King, who can do whatever he wants. Since they have a long enough lifespan, they can just take it slow.

In the end, they were all dead, not even their souls remained. What in this galaxy could truly threaten them?
If I die, I die. I've already died once anyway.

This is why, even though everyone had already made contact with Tarachin a long time ago, they hadn't taken the initiative to communicate with the main body of the Necromancer in space.

Since it was impossible to completely empty the space undead like the Soul Eaters, and Dawnwing didn't know what its resources could buy, it didn't act rashly.

What is needed, how to negotiate subsequent cooperation, and how to achieve the current urgent goals through transactions are all things that Dawnwing needs to carefully consider.

They don't bother with anything if no space necromancers come knocking.

And to be honest...
Arthur glanced at Tarasin, who was pretending to be serious.

He didn't have much confidence in this person.

The King of Figurines, those who know, know.

It's one thing that his status isn't high, but his reputation is just too tarnished.

If someone like Zandreek the Crowned One were to approach him and ask to be the representative of some kind of space necromancer, Arthur would definitely agree, because he could certainly gain a lot of benefits by leveraging the Crowned One's highly respected reputation.

It was hard to say before, but now if we're talking about who the best politician is, then there is indeed one readily available in the group.

Arthur thought of a blue man who, since waking up, had never actually been on the battlefield, but had been cleaning up their messes and tidying up their toilets the whole time.

It's fine if the four of them use cheats to get some benefits, but it's best to leave the truly professional tasks to the professionals.

"Go and ask Guilliman."

Arthur spoke up.

His gaze did not leave Tarahim.

"You'll lead the way."

"no problem!"

Seeing that Arthur didn't say anything like, "Go and get rid of the Storm King and the Silent King," Tarasin breathed a sigh of relief.

Although Ramses's promises were very appealing, he knew his own limitations. He believed that such exchanges required careful consideration, and he would be content to simply be a bystander at best.

Moreover, given his reputation, it might even give the human delegation a negative boost.

We need to clear this mine first.

His eyes flickered, as if he were pondering something.

Ramses didn't waste any time; he quickly finished whatever he could do, leaving the rest of the time to himself.

This is the result of his long experience of slacking off.

With a flash of the teleportation array beneath his feet, he appeared tens of thousands of light-years away, carrying the projections of Tarasin and Arthur.

Warp teleportation is not so complicated unless it involves the mobilization of troops; a single warp teleportation array can handle it.

Moreover, both the Radiance of Macragge and the Dawn had teleportation arrays installed by Ramses long ago, allowing them to quickly reach their destinations via the transit station in the Realm of No Form.
-
The Glory of Macurag.

With a shift in their gaze, Ramses and Tarasin found themselves in a region completely different from the War Council.

There was no sense of tension or impending conflict like in a war council; instead, there was the busy atmosphere characteristic of an administrative system, yet it was not chaotic at all.

The hall was spacious and bright, with neat workbenches everywhere. The staff were busy with their duties, moving quickly but in an orderly manner. Some were quickly recording the instructions from Xingyuting, while others were checking information against paper documents in their hands. Their fingertips flew across the light and shadow constructed by the AI ​​system, completing one task after another in the blink of an eye.

Each screen is equipped with several projection screens, through which various data and official documents flow continuously and are accurately transmitted to the corresponding positions. There are no unnecessary delays or redundant processes. From instruction transmission and information verification to task approval, every link is closely connected and operates efficiently.

Within this vast and sophisticated system, the administrative hall, the core of the ruling entity and its staff, greedily absorbs all information that enters it, supporting the orderly progress of all affairs with seemingly endless efficiency.

Ramses snapped out of his reverie during the brief teleportation, looked around, and then, led by two Ultramarines guards, headed toward his destination.

Click~
Sensing the arrival of a distinguished guest, the machine spirit immediately opened the door, alerting its master who was handling affairs in the spacious government hall.

A moment later, a black-haired man with golden hair walked in with a psionic projection and Tarasin.

"Hey, thirteenth brother!"

Ramses waved from a distance.

"Your days of sitting in the office enjoying the services of an Elven secretary are over!"

His words immediately made all the extreme warriors present tense up.

Upon noticing the arrival of the lord, the Imperial Guards subconsciously adjusted their posture, ignoring the words spoken by the lord, intending to present their most perfect work performance in front of him.

A few days ago, the Grey Knights witnessed once again the Emperor's magnificent and glorious body. The figure of the Lord of Mankind, after ten thousand years, was still as majestic as ever, still throwing his fist at the evil forces of the Warp for the sake of humanity.

The mere words were enough to make the Imperial Guard beat their chests in frustration and anger at not being able to stand by the King of Kings' side, wishing they could jump into the Warp to witness it all.

"I don't think there's anything enjoyable about these arduous government jobs."

Guilliman looked up helplessly upon hearing this, and gave Ramses a look that seemed to be full of bitterness and hatred.

"And I'm sure no one would want to trade with me."

"We are brothers, our dearest friends and family."

Ramses routinely tried to get close to people.

"How could you let your brother fall into the abyss as well?"

You still know that.

Guilliman waved his hand and said:

"What do you want from me?"

Beside him, Evelynn, seemingly oblivious to the teasing, was engrossed in assisting Guilliman with processing documents from various Eldar arks.

Besides Ifreni, there were also representatives from various Arks, whose purpose was to obtain accurate guidance from the Primarch as soon as possible.

In that brief moment when Guilliman paused to look up, the Eldar, who had only been studying human governance systems for a few years and were still adapting, visibly became flustered due to the slowed processing speed of their terminals. Guilliman's hardware was truly powerful.

They didn't even consider abandoning affairs across the galaxy to optimize the administrative structure. Instead, they used this outrageously inefficient structure to clear the mines in an extremely efficient way before making any optimizations.

"I need to talk to you about something."

Ramses gave Romulus a brief greeting and continued working diligently. He simply pulled out a few heads from his pocket and said bluntly.

"Don't these skulls look very similar?"

"."

The whole room fell silent.

The Guardians, or Astartes, are mortals who can participate in Primarch decisions.
They first looked at the skulls on the table, which were made from humans, several types of demi-humans, elves, and metal skulls. Then they looked at the group of elves around Guilliman. Their expressions changed several times, and finally, after being twisted beyond recognition, they managed to squeeze out an indescribable expression.

Guilliman glanced up at Tarasin, who was dressed in formal attire of a space necromantic dynasty and looked like he was about to attend a banquet.

Tarasin was taken aback at first, then realized that he had accidentally changed the skull back as well.

The space necromancer, with its slender form and two pointed skulls, is somewhat better than mutants, at least it has two eyes, a nose, and a mouth. However, compared to the Empire's mainstream, it certainly doesn't resemble a human and doesn't conform to mainstream aesthetics.

So, adhering to political correctness, Tarasin first removed his own skull and silently picked up the metal skull.

It was fastened, powered on, and its eyes shone with golden light.

"I have been human for a long time."

The Necromancer Lord proclaimed to everyone present, while also cleverly changing the number of his ribs to 24.

It was like an enlarged version of an ordinary human being, much more orderly than Astartes.

"."

The only response he received was the increasingly quiet room and his distinct, heavy breathing.

Some ordinary people pressed their chests, feeling like they couldn't breathe, but were promptly saved by the medical robots waiting beside them.

The official, who was shakily drinking water, patted the other person on the shoulder with a pitying expression.

This is Lord Ramses; you'll get used to it.

"I don't dare to think about what would happen if I were alone in this situation."

Guilliman, who had to face all of this, first sighed, then smiled with relief.

He roughly guessed what his friend was going to do.

But while it was a guess, Dawnwings' indiscriminate acceptance of any alien intruder was truly...
"Seriously, bro, you guys—"

Guilliman carefully considered his tone, wanting to offer some advice.

“Sanctuary also did it.”

Before Guilliman could finish speaking, Karna, who had been acting as a base station for the two processing centers, spoke up.

"?"

Guilliman's expression changed.

"That's right, Your Majesty the Regent."

Upon seeing this, Tarachin immediately coughed twice, respectfully addressed the other party by their title, and began to explain.

"Ten thousand years ago, our Silent King had a friendship with Lord Saint Jeles and provided him with some assistance on his way back to Terra."

"what?"

Guilliman didn't have time to hide his emotions and exclaimed in surprise.

No, Saint Geres looks like a pure and innocent person, how could he be colluding with the aliens?

Not only are they colluding with the aliens, but they're also colluding with Chaos.

Ramses couldn't help but mutter to himself.

If it weren't for having a reliable son, he could be seeing the archangel in Forgrim's bed right now.

Saint Geres was not as perfect as the filter suggests, as evidenced by how he governed Baal as its ruler and his equally miraculous actions during the Second Empire.

Of course, although Saint Geres is not perfect, he is different from some self-proclaimed perfect guy. Instead, he is always on the path of growth, learning from his mistakes and strengthening his will.

From escaping Slaanesh's clutches and choosing the path of loyalty, to overcoming the fear of the Butcher's Nail and defeating Angron, to bravely embracing fate and no longer fearing each battlefield, and finally embarking on the path of vengeance to face death without fear of the worst possible outcome.

Compared to other Primarchs whose forms are essentially fixed from the moment they appear, Saint Geres continued to grow and eventually surpassed himself, which is precisely what makes him so captivating.

"The Lion King did it too."

Arthur then added.

"."

Far away in the hazy star field, Ryan, who had just dealt with a group of governors who had colluded with gene thieves to rebel, took a break from his busy schedule to check on what his brothers were up to and fill the doubts that had risen in his heart. His eyes widened.

On the Macurag, at the feet of the Astartes, a group of robed figures were organizing stacks of documents.

As the highest administrative system of the Empire outside of the Sun Star Region, the Government Affairs Hall contains almost all of the Empire's current secrets and a series of real-time information. Ryan is no longer just killing; he needs to refer to the information when dealing with many events.

Aside from the psychic system, regular information exchange is handled by the mysterious Watchers, while large documents and confidential shipments are handled by them.

Huhu~
Faced with the unconscious gazes cast upon them by Arthur, the little people's glowing red eyes curved into crescents. They waved, then handed over the fingerprinted transfer report and transfer list, before carrying the documents and disappearing into the shadows.

These mysterious Watchers can also travel between the Warp and reality, and because of the Old Ones' power, they don't even need transit stations, making them the perfect messengers.

"Lane, who knew the secrets of the Mysterious Watchers, not only recognized the Chaos Corruption early on, but also knew about Tuchucha's abilities. However, as a warp creation, Tuchucha's use had a window of opportunity under the circumstances at the time."

Romulus chuckled and explained, “While history books describe Ryan’s decisions, they don’t mention the technical details. From heading to Caliban to gather troops and control the situation, to flying directly to Terra to provide assistance, and being wary of your involvement in the rebellion as the Lord of Altera, he ultimately chose to come to you.”

"Then I should feel honored."

Guilliman shook his head helplessly.

Ryan, however, thought highly of him.

After making a comment about Ryan's awkward exit from the game, Guilliman decided not to offer any further advice.

He also knew the meaning of the Wings of Dawn.

Leaving aside those Chaos traitors, the loyalists all treat the Emperor's slogans like a fart, and when it comes to being flexible, they're all incredibly flexible.

Perhaps even the emperor himself was like that.

Realizing that if he continued to question, the other party might bring up the Emperor, and in order to protect his father's already dwindling reputation among the Primarchs due to the spread of the Empire's jokes, Guilliman decided to stop.

So he was the only innocent and pure person in the Second Reich.

Having successfully incorporated these new little secrets of the Primarchs, Guilliman suddenly felt that building a Second Reich wasn't such a big deal after all.

"Lord Guilliman."

Ifrena's voice roused Guilliman from his brief reverie.

The Eldar representative looked exhausted, holding a thick stack of documents in his hands, his eyes still glowing with a faint psionic light, clearly having just finished handling a batch of urgent matters remotely.

The table beside her was piled with various reports and communication runes full of Eldar style. A floating psionic projection screen surrounded her, flashing with dense runes and data, each one waiting for approval.

Under the pressure of documents that all Eldar officials needed to sign, she spoke a little faster, clearly having done her best. Her rhythm was disrupted by Guilliman's slowed movements, which forced her to interrupt Guilliman's thoughts, hoping he would lend a hand.

It's already accumulated to the size of a small mountain.

The Eldar are indeed useful beasts of burden; their physical attributes are undeniable, and they possess far greater potential than ordinary people in both military and political endeavors.

The key demand isn't high yet, mainly because Dawnbreaker Wings was already paid for.

To be honest, Guilliman is quite easy to use.

"."

Seeing Evelynn's helpless and aggrieved expression, and with his gaze lingering on her pointed ears for a few seconds, Guilliman wisely chose to remain silent.

Alright, eldest brother, let's not talk about second brother anymore.

　P.S.: Quack—

　　
　
(End of this chapter)