Chapter 51: Believe in Yourself

"I'm done on my end."

Karna appeared abruptly, leisurely greeting the staff members along the way regardless of whether they responded or not, before tossing a data cartridge to Romulus.

"The entire ship holds 11,409 people—significantly fewer than an Imperial Navy vessel. The vast majority of facilities, including macro-cannons, are automated mechanical systems processed by cogitators and operated by tech-priests."

Karna had a distinct feeling that his investigation into the ship's environment had gone far too smoothly, almost as if the vessel itself were cooperating with him.

"I knew it."

Romulus looked over the detailed data, wearing an expression of "just as I expected."

The Imperium didn't avoid automation out of fear of Chaos corruption; it was simply that they viewed human lives as utterly worthless. A single ship from the Machine God's followers could achieve full combat effectiveness with just one-tenth of the crew required for an equivalent Imperial model, and yet you never saw Mechanicus ships getting specially targeted by Chaos.

Although it was still necessary to maintain a healthy vigilance against artificial intelligence and potential Chaos corruption, the internal systems of the Adeptus Mechanicus had given Romulus an acceptable psychological threshold.

Well, for now, they would model future automations on the Mechanicus system. Besides, as manipulation nodes, they had plenty of biological humans to spare; there was no need to go turning actual people into cogitators or servitors.

Romulus's mind raced, already drafting a preliminary reform proposal for the vessel.

"Stop muttering to yourself about problems. Tell me something pleasant, like our spoils of war."

Karna keenly perceived Romulus's mood and took the initiative to speak up.

"Right, here is the codex entry I just unlocked. Take a look and see if anything is useful."

With that, he operated his panel and shared the information he had gathered.

"This is..."

Romulus scanned the newly added production line modules on the interface, looking surprised.

Production lines for various models of bolter weaponry, Indomitus-pattern Terminator armor, alongside a bunch of garbled data marked with the note "Armor of Fate."

"How did you manage to get this?"

To avoid provoking Cawl, Romulus hadn't even had Arthur intentionally scan the production lines during the explosive dismantling process.

How had the Angel managed to swipe a production line?

Moreover, Cawl was truly something else—directly swapping out the production lines in the rear section of the Ark to supply the Cararcharodons with gear, refusing to take even the slightest risk.

"I have two pairs of eyes."

Karna smiled and pointed to his head.

"The Black Rage makes for some overly enthusiastic actions, which is entirely reasonable."

"Not bad."

Romulus gave a thumbs-up.

It seemed they wouldn't have to spend money on ammunition in the future.

As for the Indomitus-pattern Terminators, while their performance was indeed inferior to the Cataphractii and Tartaros patterns, they were exceptionally well-suited to the current combat doctrine of the Space Marines. As long as it didn't involve the materialization of the soul, more was always better.

"What's up with this garbled code, though?"

"Data redundancy, or perhaps unresolved output. It's a common phenomenon when I unlock entries in the Warp, though I usually organize them before sharing."

Ramesses, who was still drafting his research topics, chimed in.

"We can isolate the finished components by breaking down the categories."

He manipulated the panel, and before long, he had separated out micro-energy motors and novel material structures.

"So, what are these good for?"

Romulus asked.

"Perhaps they can be integrated into the power armor's energy system?"

Ramesses murmured thoughtfully.

"And who's going to modify them?"

Karna posed the ultimate question.

"..."

The three of them looked at each other in silence.

Not a single person present knew the first thing about machinery, nor had any of them majored in engineering before their transmigration.

As for the recorded Warp data, let's just say that possessing knowledge and knowing how to apply it were two entirely different things.

"It seems our team still lacks someone specializing in mechanics."

Romulus wondered if he should kidnap a Tech-Priest to work for them; perhaps Cawl had a pipeline for that sort of thing.

Logging this into his work journal, he turned to Ramesses.

"Are your Stormcast Eternals done yet?"

Romulus still hadn't given up on the idea of making the Emperor adopt the Dark Gods' method of demonic possession, which would allow their military strength to expand exponentially in a very short span of time.

"I have a concept, but compared to daemonic rituals, it's still missing something. It's absurd—daemons can squeeze right in, but Old Man Gold's side just won't work."

"My guess is it's a problem with faith anchors, but I don't have a shrine-world to experiment on. The crux of the issue is that he doesn't speak plain language, so I'm left guessing like I'm solving riddles. I'll keep making the calls, though; sooner or later, I'll filter out a persona of Old Man Gold that's capable of communication."

Ramesses gathered the data from this mission's manipulation of a daemon host and bundled it together.

He was still quite pleased. Getting Cawl to buy in had directly altered a certain established reality, earning him a massive windfall of research funding.

Though the share Romulus allocated to him was already quite generous, when it came to burning through money, the more you burned, the more satisfying it was, right?

He then added:

"Lately, the communications have had sporadic responses too. While a lot of it is logically incoherent gibberish, or just stupid lines like 'I am not a god,' it's still progress at least."

Ever since the Emperor freeloaded off them, Ramesses would occasionally shove a few psychic phone calls the Emperor's way just to test the current extent of the Emperor's senility.

It was having an effect.

In any case, the Emperor couldn't find them, and the transmigrators themselves didn't even know what they were. The psychic projections and the shadows of the Warp safehouse were none of them the real body; if not for the Sister of Battle right beside them, the Emperor wouldn't even be able to peek at their screens.

"You really are a living father figure to Old Man Gold."

Hearing this, Romulus struggled to keep a straight face.

"Don't even start. We pay out of pocket to work for him, and when we're done, the phone calls don't even go through. All he knows how to do every day is cast flashy, empty special effects. A client like that deserves to sit on the Golden Throne."

Ramesses muttered without a shred of sympathy.

"Me calling him constantly to harass him is letting him off easy."

Romulus rubbed his temples. The guy had a point.

"Looked at that way, we still have plenty of problems. As technical codex entries pile up, our desperate lack of professional expertise is starting to restrict our ability to utilize these technologies."

"Secondly, aside from manifesting miracles, Old Man Gold never speaks straight, leaving us in the awkward predicament of permanently lacking frontline combatants."

Actually, solving these problems wasn't particularly difficult.

Finding a planet to farm on for a few decades would basically resolve everything, ensuring they had adequately armed personnel to fully wield the equipment and power at their disposal.

"Still, it's not like we have nothing to show for it."

Ramesses said, "Compared to when we were just drifting aimlessly in space, we now have a vessel, and sufficient spiritual power to provide the coalition with adequate armament."

"Yes, a ship of our own."

Arthur silently walked over to his companions.

He tossed his saved holographic map to Romulus, marking the secured areas he had cleared, along with the specific locations of detector probes left deliberately for Cawl to spy on.

Ramesses glanced at the two of them coming one after another, and to fit in with the group, he simply bundled up his own experimental report and sent it over as well.

"..."

Romulus couldn't help being speechless, but he accepted them readily nonetheless, slotting them high up in his work-journal module.

What else could he do? Just roll with it. He was more than happy that his companions trusted him this much.

"Still, the process hasn't been easy. A few months of transmigration, traveling across two star systems, and all we've done is fight wars."

At this thought, Romulus sighed.

Searching for technical talent, accumulating combat units, and researching their own nature were not things that could be accomplished overnight. Yet, as things stood, they had to spend all their time fighting wars.

"Unless something unexpected happens, the next star system will be another battleground, and the scale will only be larger."

Romulus genuinely wanted to find a place to develop in peace, farm, and grow. This rhythm of going from one place straight into a warzone was truly unbearable.

Even though their souls were still growing, their codices were still unlocking, and their powers were gradually increasing, they lacked any sense of true safety.

These gains felt like illusions in the face of endless warfare, and precisely because of the war, they couldn't fully unleash their capabilities.

The pressure was immense.

The devastation at the bottom of the ship was etched into his mind. Romulus felt a genuine sense of urgency—an intense desire to bring about change rather than simply fighting war after war.

"Ah~"

He couldn't help letting out a long sigh.

It was fitting for the Warhammer 40k universe, where war was the dominant keynote of existence.

"Then you might as well treat combat as a minor interlude to interstellar travel. The Imperium may be rotten, but forging bonds with various heroes is full of its own fun."

Karna said optimistically.

He sensed that Romulus must have come into contact with something just now, causing his psychological state to continuously slide downward in a step-like fashion.

"And the meaning of our fight is to lead them to victory."

Arthur continued, "This galaxy is fraught with malice. If you want to change things, if you want to survive, you must win."

"Winning the present is the only way to forge a future!"

"Right, we have to win."

Romulus looked up at the stars.

No matter what they wanted to do in the future, they had to keep winning.

If they won, everything was negotiable.

If they lost, their fragile spark of hope would be nothing more than a fleeting flash in the pan.

"Stop putting so much pressure on yourself."

Karna laughed.

Why was Romulus overthinking everything so much?

And Arthur too—everyone else was trying to offer comfort here, and he was still talking about combat high and winning, winning, winning.

"Strategic planning is up to you, accumulating knowledge is left to Ramesses, and charging into battle is up to us. Just as each of us possesses our own traits, as long as we each do our part, that's enough."

"You map out the path to success, and we will follow that path to triumph."

With that, he couldn't help but nudge Arthur with his elbow.

"Trust us."

Nudged by Karna, Arthur extended his hand.

"And trust yourself just as you trust us."

Ramesses also took a moment to smile and pat Romulus on the shoulder.

Romulus looked at the companions surrounding him, fell silent for a moment, and then a relaxed smile crept onto the corners of his mouth.

"Are you guys... trying to psychologically manipulate me?"

"If we don't manipulate you, how am I supposed to get my research funding?"

Ramesses said with a chuckle.

"Lord Romulus, give the order."

Romulus couldn't help laughing, and then he extended his palm.

"Then—"

The four hands intersected at that moment.

"Let's win once more, together!"