Chapter 28: Shasha: Humbled

"Lord Tyberos, please, follow me."

Kovek, having regained his footing, breathed a sigh of relief. If not for Romulus’s reminder to activate the magnetic locks on their void armor beforehand, the transport detachment would currently be out in deep space fishing for lost souls.

Compared to Lord Romulus, these warriors in their grim and somewhat crude-looking armor seemed to place little value on honor or etiquette. He took a deep breath, casting aside his subtle misgivings and re-centering his heart on the reverence due to the Angels of the Emperor. Escorted by one of the Iron Cavalry, he approached the Shark and extended the invitation.

"Romulus has prepared a proper welcome ceremony for you."

The Carcharodons, clad in their threadbare, scavenged gear, looked on in confusion as they were ushered by mortals into a grand banquet hall prepared well in advance.

Within their sight, there was no sign of the disarray typical of those who had endured a crushing defeat, nor did they see the bared, savage fangs of stray hounds defending the scraps of their dignity. The rows of neatly standing Iron Cavalry Terminators and the massive vehicles acting as a backdrop turned the banquet into a scene of breathtaking splendor.

The Carcharodons looked down at the sumptuous feast on the tables, finding it strangely unappetizing. Their burning gazes swept over the equipment in the hall; their eyes seemed ready to pop out of their helmets.

*We came here to rescue a bunch of battered survivors, didn't we? Why does this ship look like a completely different world inside and out?*

The Sharks carefully scrutinized the Iron Cavalry Terminators guarding the mortals. The pristine paintwork and ornate decorations stood in stark contrast to the rivets on their own shoulder pads and the faded, ash-grey finish worn thin by the passage of time. At a glance, it appeared as if the Carcharodons who had come to rescue them were, in fact, the ones in need of aid.

"Do you want them?"

Romulus asked suddenly. His mind was already split into dozens of threads, conversing with the other Sharks and gathering information. Unfortunately, most of the Sharks remained stoic, only showing surprise when the Iron Cavalry nearby spoke in a dialect identical to their own. They were all waiting for the Void Lord’s command.

"..."

Tyberos sat heavily in the seat prepared for him, staring blankly at the lavish dishes before him, lost in silence.

To say he didn't want them would be a lie. But given the rarity of such equipment and vehicles—honestly, he already regretted letting Akia handle the negotiations initially. If these were his own belongings and someone had taken half of them under the guise of a "rescue," he would have fought a blood feud to the death. To cross paths with such a wealthy Chapter should be an opportunity to build friendship or even a long-term partnership, not just a grab-and-run.

"As I said just now."

Romulus seemed completely indifferent to the previous offenses of the Sharks. His gaze fell upon Tyberos’s Lightning Claws, as if implying something.

"If you want them, you must take them yourself."

"..."

*How does he seem to know that I took these Lightning Claws from the Ashen Claws in a duel?*

Though his body was encased in a modified Dreadnought power armor, the shell of adamantium and ceramite provided Tyberos with no sense of security. Even though the helmet, modified from an Indomitus-pattern Terminator suit, continued its sacred duty of concealing and protecting his deathly pale face, he felt as if his very soul had been laid bare.

Tyberos looked toward Kahurangi, the mind of the Chapter, only to find that the Librarian had already removed his helmet and was chatting with a Librarian of the Deathwatch.

*Is this how those psychics who play with prophecy manage to unsettle people?*

Romulus watched Tyberos, who had been left stunned by his remark, and decided not to apply any more pressure.

"Let us duel."

He pointed toward the Stormbird in the lower hangar. Building a proper dueling platform was too much trouble, so Romulus simply used the top of the Stormbird’s fuselage as the arena—the view was quite good, after all.

"First blood."

It was an ancient dueling ritual, considered concluded the moment the first drop of blood fell from the opponent.

*Snap.*

Several spotlights hit the hangar, illuminating the wings until they were crystal clear. The black-armored swordsman, having shed his power pack, stood in the center of the arena, extending an invitation to the Sharks present while unleashing an overwhelming, suffocating aura. The swordsman’s stance was flawless, and the thick scent of blood lingering on his armor seemed to lick at the Stormbird’s wings, making the young Machine Spirit tremble with excitement.

"Let us use the way you are most familiar with," Romulus said. "Let our blades do the talking."

The school of Sharks began to stir restlessly. Their burning gazes converged on Arthur, standing atop the wing, and the rows of Mk. IV power armor arranged within the open bay of the Stormbird.

*Wait, how are you so familiar with this? Is this my Chapter or yours?*

Tyberos stopped playing the silent monolith. It was clear the man understood his Chapter’s culture well and, despite the rocky first impression, had given him a graceful way out. To refuse now would be a grave insult.

He simply removed his helmet and raised his hand, signaling the secret command unique to the Carcharodons.

*Clatter!*

A Carcharodon stood up at lightning speed and leaped down toward the dueling platform.

The next second:

*Clang!*

The Shark was sent flying back to the platform at the same speed he had fallen, landing flat on his back on the metal floor. An Apothecary rushed over to check on him, only to see that the Shark's weapon had been severed at its weakest point, and a shallow scratch remained on his gauntlet, oozing crimson blood.

The warrior stood up and nodded slightly to the Chapter Master. Other than the scratch and the shock of being kicked, he was fine.

*Whoosh!*

A master-crafted chainaxe landed at his feet, moving at a speed his body hadn't even had time to react to.

"A token of apology," Arthur said, lowering his blade and looking up at the watching Sharks. "Perhaps you might consider sending more than one?"

*Clatter—*

Three more stood up.

The Sharks did not care for empty notions of honor. A default one-on-one was a necessary respect for an opponent, but since the other party had issued the challenge, they would not pass up such an advantageous condition.

Their comrades, however, stopped their initial rush. With silent coordination, they selected the three most battered weapons they could find and solemnly handed them to the three challengers. Even Akia, who had intended to stand up and win glory for the Chapter, realized the situation, sat back down, and continued his feast.

"So, these are the Sharks."

Romulus couldn't help but sigh. Such an interesting scene gave him a true look into the core spirit of the Sharks. Whether it was malice or goodwill, as long as their bottom line wasn't crossed, the Sharks merely adjusted their attitude based on the external environment. They were never tripped up by honor, nor were they swayed by personal likes or dislikes; they only cared for necessity.

Just like this.

People like this were, in fact, the easiest to change.