Warhammer 40K in a box

Chapter 470 Commentary on the Primarch (Third Update)

The metal deck of the passageway inside the fortress monastery trembled slightly underfoot.

Outside the window, the eternally churning sulfurous yellow and rust-red clouds of the gas giant Rostov IV form a magnificent yet dangerous backdrop, with massive ammonia ice storms appearing and disappearing like pale serpents within the cyclone.

Ten years have passed.

With the genetic seeds and blood coffin technology provided by Kaul, and the continuous investment of resources from Chen Xi, this steel fortress hidden deep in the heart of the gas giant planet has expanded from a small outpost into a war engine core of astonishing scale.

The air was filled with a mixture of ozone, promethium fuel, newly cast metal, and the sweat of young living beings.

Chen Xi walked ahead, her steps steady.

Half a step behind him was Hathor Lupeka, who had shed his Primarch equipment and reduced his size to that of a mortal.

Despite his normal size, Hathor's posture remains outstanding and upright. Even when walking next to the original Astartes, who are over 2.4 meters tall, he does not appear short at all.

She wore a well-tailored dark gray executive uniform with the insignia of the Sub-Star District Governor's Office on her epaulets, and her wheat-colored skin looked healthy and natural under the cool lighting of the corridor.

Only the occasional flash of amber-gold luster, like molten gold, in her deep eyes, and the calm aura that still emanated from her even after she had concealed her size and power, subtly revealed her extraordinary nature.

The iconic silver-grey wolfskin cloak and ivory-white Terminator armor, along with the "Worldbreaker" and "Claw of Horus," have been carefully sealed away in the deepest part of the monastery.

They are crossing the recruit training deck.

Under the enormous dome, hundreds of Forged recruits, clad in training power armor skeletons, are conducting close combat drills.

The heavy training chainsaw sword hummed in the air, its clanging sounds incessant.

The recruits moved swiftly and possessed astonishing strength, far exceeding the limits of ordinary warriors. Every slash and thrust was accompanied by a whooshing sound as if tearing through the air.

However, in Hathor's eyes, these movements seemed too standard, even... somewhat clumsy.

Her amber-gold eyes were sharp as a scanning array, instantly dissecting every detail of the movement and the overall situation.

“Basic physiological parameters and physical output... are impeccable.” Her voice was calm as she assessed the original Astartes recruits before her: “This physique, explosiveness, and neural reaction speed would be enough to be included in the assault elite ranks of any company during the Great Expedition.”

Chen Xi nodded slightly but didn't reply; he knew the important part was yet to come.

Hathor's gaze was precisely locked onto a group of recruits who were conducting a simulated combat exercise.

When one of them was facing a feint attack from the flank of the simulated enemy, he was a beat too slow to adjust his center of gravity, which caused his blocking action to be distorted and exposed a fatal gap in his torso.

“Strength is merely the foundation.” Her tone carried an undeniable sternness. “Look at the tactical execution here, Your Excellency. The movements are formulaic, lacking battlefield situational awareness; the attack routes are simplistic, and the defensive postures are rigid.”

It can mechanically cope with pre-set attack sequences, but once it encounters a real complex threat or a lack of information...

She shook her head slightly, as if rejecting an inadequate battle plan: "Their coordination efficiency will plummet, and their individual advantages will be diluted by chaos."

Guilliman's holy grail trained them into precise parts, but neglected the battlefield adaptability and tactical flexibility required to assemble those parts into deadly weapons.

It stifled the soldiers' instinct to make immediate decisions and react creatively to the ever-changing battlefield—the very foundation of the legion's survival.

Her words, like precise tactical analysis, pointed directly to the core flaw of the canonical training system: while ensuring basic combat effectiveness, it sacrificed the troops' ability to survive and win in high-intensity, unpredictable real battlefield environments. "The canonical system is the cornerstone of the current Imperial military system, Hathor," Chen Xi replied calmly, his gaze sweeping across the training ground. "It provides quantifiable standards and templates for rapidly generating combat power."

Without this system, it would have been impossible for us to expand the Ash Knights to its current size and maintain stable regional control within a decade of scarce resources and surrounded by powerful enemies.

He acknowledged the practical value of the Bible, but also understood the fatal flaws that Hathor pointed out.

“Efficiency and survival are sometimes contradictory.” Hathor’s voice was deep and insightful. Her gaze pierced through the recruits before her, as if she could see countless possible future battlefronts. “The Holy Scriptures pursued the former but sacrificed the latter. Legions of the Great Crusade era, even recruit companies, were forged in continuous high-intensity conflict.”

They know how to read the battlefield in dire straits, find gaps in chaos, and autonomously form tactical nodes when the chain of command breaks. And these young people…”

She pointed to the training ground: "Their 'battlefield' is too neat, with too few variables. Guilliman's doctrine molded them into efficient killing units, but neglected to forge them into warriors who could survive, think, and ultimately dominate the battlefield in the fog of information and the crucible of flesh."

The Astartes are first and foremost the masters of the battlefield, and only secondarily the executors of orders.

The sound of synchronized footsteps and commands came from the front of the passage.

A company of veterans who had just returned to the fortress after completing a patrol mission were passing by in formation.

Their MKX power armor was covered with fine scratches and repair marks. Their steps were steady, their eyes sharp yet reserved. Their movements carried an unspoken understanding and a calm temperament honed by the baptism of war, which contrasted sharply with the energetic but somewhat impetuous new recruits on the training field.

Hathor's gaze lingered briefly on the group of veterans, his sharp golden eyes acting like the most sophisticated assessment instruments, capturing every scar on their armor, the unspoken coordination in their steps, and the growing vigilance in their eyes.

“Hmm… finally, I can see a hint of ‘living’,” she murmured, with a barely perceptible hint of approval. “Although it’s still far from the bone-deep battlefield intuition of a veteran, at least… the instinct for survival on the battlefield is starting to sprout.”

Was it accumulated through the ongoing low-intensity conflict on the edge of the Mariupol sector? This environment is a primary crucible for honing the core skill of 'survival'.

“Yes,” Chen Xi confirmed, “We cleared out orc bandits, fought pirates, and encountered small groups of Chaos infiltrators. Casualties are the price of growth, but the survivors form the true fighting backbone and experience carriers of the chapter.”

He paused, then looked at Hathor: "The Holy Scriptures provided the organizational framework and logistical support, enabling them to go out into the world. But what gave them value and transformed them from 'recruits' into 'warriors' were the combat records written in blood and fire in the sector."

Hathor remained silent for a moment, then turned his gaze back to the churning, gaseous inferno outside the window, as if weighing the brutal cost of the Empire's future wars.

When she turned back to look at Chen Xi, the docility that belonged to an administrative secretary had faded from her eyes, replaced by the unquestionable decisiveness of a war commander and a hint of urgency to rebuild power.

“The foundation needs to be solid, but the blade needs to be tempered, Your Excellency.” Hathor’s voice was steady, yet carried an unquestionable decisiveness: “Give me these recruits—no, these ‘half-finished products’ that have not yet been fully tempered by the flames of war, especially those who show tactical potential and the will to survive.”

The scriptures gave them skeletons and muscles; I will give them nerves, claws, and the instinct to tear apart the battlefield and dominate the slaughter outside Guilliman's well-defined blueprint.

“As your ‘secretary,’ I should also inject true ‘legion-level’ effectiveness into your core combat force.” A faint but absolutely confident smile curved her lips. “I can’t just be helping you calculate the subsector’s grain production and promethium quotas, can I?”

Chen Xi looked at the "secretary" in front of him, who had restrained the original body's brilliance but still exuded a sense of strategic pressure, and a knowing smile appeared on his lips.

“This is exactly what I’ve been hoping for, Ms. Hathor. You are in charge of developing the training program. I expect to see not a group of well-trained ‘recruits,’ but rather ‘warriors’ with emerging talent, not a group of well-trained ‘recruits.’” He emphasized the last two words.

Hathor's lips also curved into a faint, yet unspoken, smile, and the molten gold light in his eyes resembled a tactical simulation drawing being lit.

Without a word, a pact for the reshaping of power had been made. The thunder outside the window roared, as if howling in anticipation of the even more severe tempering to come.

(End of this chapter)