Warhammer 40K in a box

Chapter 471 The Debate on Primitives - Part 1
Although Hathor agreed to train the Ash Knights at Chen Xizhi's request, she did not devote her main energy to it. She only spent two fixed hours each day instructing new recruits on combat skills, and devoted the rest of her time to more important matters.

Both Hathor and Chen Xi knew perfectly well that the true foundation of an army's strength lay in its efficient administration and solid logistical support, which were the very lifeblood that sustained the empire's massive war machine.

The shouts of battle on the training field were far less loud than the crisp sound of beads clashing in the data room.

Over the years, Chen Xi's governor's office has been upgraded, becoming far more luxurious and imposing than before.

The ebony wainscoting inlaid with the walls gleamed with a soft light, and the dark hardwood wainscoting, imperial eagle emblem, scarlet carpet, and painted dome depicting imperial history made this place resemble a solemn palace.

Sunlight streamed through the stained glass, casting images of battles from the Great Expedition era onto the carpet.

However, at this moment, the palace is almost submerged in a sea of ​​documents.

Mountains of parchment scrolls, flashing data boards, and heavy files occupied desks, side tables, and even low cabinets, forming a rickety "file tower," with the edges of the reports at the very top already curled up.

Data cables tangled and hung down like vines, while holographic projections above the pile of papers flashed with constantly updated fleet dispatch data—this endless torrent of information was the cold reality that dominated the subsector.

At the heart of this "mountain of paper," Hathor is working at an astonishing pace; the area in front of her is the only "battlefield" that has been efficiently cleared.

His amber-gold eyes were like a sophisticated scanning array. His gaze swept across a few lines of an open parchment budget report before his fingers, holding a pen, signed off with fluent and authoritative cursive handwriting.

Almost simultaneously, he picked up a data board with his left hand, his fingertips swiping rapidly across the floating interface to retrieve, compare, correct, and annotate data—the entire process taking no more than a deep breath for an ordinary person.

The data panel that had just been processed was precisely placed into the "processed" box, and the machine servant had already handed him an emergency report on the mining world strike.

Her movements were fluid and seamless, like a precise machine, as her extraordinary brain, originating from the genetic prototype, was operating at full power, processing massive amounts of information and complex decisions that would take mortals days or even weeks to sort out.

In this efficient and focused atmosphere, Hathor's gaze swept over a lengthy report on agricultural world crop failures and tithe adjustments, and his fingertips paused almost imperceptibly.

“I once looked down on mortals and questioned the empire’s heavy tithe… but now, I finally understand.” She let out a low sigh, her voice exceptionally clear in the quiet room.

She didn't look up, her gaze remaining fixed on the key data: "There are no billions of ordinary people toiling away in the world of casting, digging deep in the mines, cultivating the land on farms, or silently turning in the massive, slow gears of the administrative system..."

Without the seemingly endless tax revenue that drained the very marrow of every world, the Empire could never have launched that Great Crusade, much less have built this colossal behemoth spanning the stars.

She finally raised her eyes, her amber pupils reflecting the mountain of tax returns.

Chen Xi sat behind the large obsidian desk opposite him, the imperial double-headed eagle etched on the desktop gleaming coldly.

He was reviewing the floating holographic star map, marking complex fleet patrol routes and resource nodes.

Hearing the sigh, he looked up, the soft light illuminating his contemplative expression and also reflecting the similarly piled-up, but slightly smaller, mountain of documents on his side—one of which, a file folder marked "Top Secret" in red, was half-open. "Because soldiers cannot lay down their weapons to farm," Chen Xi's voice was low and clear, his gaze passing through the pile of documents to land on Hathor.

He put down the data panel, and the holographic projection went out.

“And letting the Astartes manage government affairs…” He paused, his fingertips unconsciously tracing across the cold obsidian tabletop, “They certainly possess that ability. Exceptional minds, near-limitless energy, the ability to process massive amounts of information instantly… these are the cornerstones of an excellent administrator.”

“But unfortunately,” he continued, his tone heavy with history, “in the Great Crusade era, only Guilliman truly transformed this potential into institutionalized power and implemented it at the legion level.”

His eyes revealed a complex recognition of the Primarch's unique talent.

Surrounded by the "Paper Mountain," a symbol of the foundation of imperial rule, discussing Guilliman's domestic achievements carries particular weight: "The Thirteenth Legion brought the superhuman qualities of Astartes to their fullest potential."

With their extraordinary minds, they not only devised tactical scenarios, but also handled the most complex and trivial disputes concerning people's livelihoods, planned urban blueprints, and precisely allocated food supplies for billions of people.

This is precisely why the Macragge 500 Worlds possesses such terrifying war potential—it is not merely a powerful recruitment base, but a near-perfect, self-sustaining war engine core.

“Yes,” Hathor’s gaze held a sharp hint of reminiscence and re-examination, his pen pausing briefly. “Back then, ‘Horus’ may have only seen Guilliman’s powerful facade in domestic affairs, but failed to delve into its roots.”

Now, as Hathor, she is trying her best to analyze the mistakes made by Horus.

Especially after Chen Xi revealed to her political wisdom far beyond what the Primarchs had previously known and a profound analysis of class and interest relationships, she realized more clearly: "Both Father and we Primarchs seem...too naive in some ways. Perhaps of all of us, only Guilliman is truly mature and closest to Father's initial expectations of us."

Her amber-gold eyes swept over a new report, her voice clearly audible amidst the pile of documents.

Standing on the ruins ten thousand years later, looking back at the Great Expedition, she had a completely different understanding.

In response, Chen Xi gazed at the silently rotating holographic star map: "For the emperors of the Great Crusade Era, the significance of the Primarch's existence is to conquer more worlds in the shortest time and secure as many safe havens for humanity as possible before the dark future fully descends."

Since the collapse of civilization in the Old Night Age, humanity's only chance to rise again was the brief moment when the Dark Prince's birth caused the warp storms that enveloped the galaxy to tear apart.

He lightly tapped the table with his fingertips, as if striking a historical moment.

“At that moment, warp travel became feasible again, and the Chaos Gods were temporarily preoccupied with other matters, allowing the Emperor to race against time to establish the Empire and protect the remaining humans. That is why he seemed so urgent—” His gaze deepened, looking beyond the painted dome, “urgently hoping that you Primarchs could conquer more territories.”

The words fell into silence, only the ticking of the grandfather clock responded.

(End of this chapter)