Chapter 7: Is This Canned Food Authentic?

When Romulus stepped into the compartment, all he saw were dismembered remains scattered across the floor, still spraying blood.

Chaos Space Marines.

Judging by the skull motifs on their armor and the vibrant crimson paint, they were, in all likelihood, a Chaos warband devoted to Khorne, one of the Four Ruinous Powers.

After efficiently dispatching the enemy, Arthur drew his blade and lifted one of the fallen black-armored warriors from the deck. After confirming the Crimson Fists insignia on the shoulder pad and scrutinizing the armor, he couldn't help but frown.

"The members of this kill-team aren't Primaris Space Marines. It seems the Imperial Regent, Guilliman, hasn't awakened yet."

He then tilted his head to listen.

Beyond the war cries of "Blood for the Blood God" and the wet thud of axes biting into flesh, there were no other signs of combat left in the compartment. Combined with the Deathwatch corpses on the floor and the Chaos Marines who had ambushed them, it was clear that the resistance within this sector had been entirely neutralized.

"It seems we arrived too late?"

A thick, pungent stench of blood assaulted his senses. Arthur knew for certain that this was the result of some warp-based influence, as the self-contained recycling systems of his armor had never once made contact with the outside environment.

"We are still in time."

Romulus’s gaze was fixed on the necks and chests of the fallen warriors. Two gruesome holes remained in each, as if some sharp implement had violently gouged out specific organs.

"Chaos Space Marines and Daemons aren't exactly on the same side. They wouldn't let those daemons snatch their spoils until they’ve had their fill."

"……That’s true."

Arthur recalled this fact and set the Deathwatch warrior's body down.

As super-soldiers forged through nineteen distinct surgical procedures, every Space Marine possessed a "gene-seed"—an organ used to cultivate the implants required to create further Space Marines.

With the implantation of the eighteenth organ, the Progenoid Gland, the gene-seed matures alongside the body. After five years, the neck gland matures and can be harvested; after ten years, the thoracic gland matures and can be harvested.

The former is usually harvested periodically as part of the gene-seed tithe and for chapter reserves, while the latter is typically recovered by an Apothecary after a Space Marine has fallen in battle.

The gene-seed is the very foundation of a Chapter. If a malicious mutation occurs or a large quantity is lost, it is essentially a death knell for the Chapter, unless they can secure aid from their parent chapter or the Imperium to survive.

For Chaos Space Marines, who have turned to the warp, suffer from severe physical mutations, and lack Imperial supply lines, plundering the gene-seeds of loyalist Space Marines is one of the few ways they have to replenish their numbers.

Likewise, because of a certain "Big Guy" who despised the warp yet heavily infused it into the creation of Space Marines, gene-seeds are highly coveted among the vast hordes of warp daemons, often classified as ultra-rare, top-tier offerings in various profane rituals.

Therefore, it was understandable why these Chaos Space Marines—who were primarily attacking the Geller field generator—had not immediately destroyed the field itself. After all, a leopard would hardly share its prey with a hyena.

Perhaps, once the battle was over, they intended to seize the ship and sail away, leaving the daemons outside to stare in frustration.

Based on his knowledge of the world's various secrets, Arthur quickly grasped the crux of the situation.

However—

"Are the two of us enough?"

Arthur asked, signaling whether they should wait a moment for the Sisters of Battle.

According to their expected speed, the Sisters should arrive in a minute. These female warriors, clad in power armor, bolstered by advanced biological augmentations, and shielded by the Emperor through their fanatical faith, were always ideal allies for Space Marines.

His superhuman brain told him that the combat traces in this section alone were the work of a sixteen-man squad. What they were about to face were actual Space Marines, not the small-fry who couldn't even react to their movements.

"Two?"

Romulus let out a scoff.

"Who said there are only two of us?"

"?"

Arthur tilted his head. But as he glanced sideways, a group of Ultramarines clad in blue armor emerged from the shadows behind him.

"Tsk, it actually works. But why are their souls so expensive?" Romulus muttered to himself.

"Huh?"

Watching these Ultramarines, who seemed to have been pulled out of Romulus's trousers, Arthur felt as if a galaxy had just exploded in his mind.

"I scanned this one and just copied it. Since we’re aiming for speed, we might as well commit to it."

Seeing Arthur's confusion, Romulus pointed to a Space Marine on the floor whose shoulder pad bore the Omega symbol with a skull underneath, then patted the shoulder guard of the Ultramarine beside him.

"Standard First-born Space Marine physical stats, but their souls were so abstractly expensive that I didn't bother loading them; I have to operate them manually. Still, it's enough."

"I am almost certain that we aren't being watched by the Dark Gods."

Arthur examined these mechanical-like Ultramarines and shook his head gently, his suspicion that their anomaly was a "blessing" from the warp wavering slightly.

If the Dark Gods were capable of simply conjuring Space Marine bodies for daemons to inhabit, why would they go to the trouble of whispering in the ears of High Lords, tricking them into launching penitent crusades just to feed the forces of Chaos?

Of course, one couldn't rule out the possibility that Chaos was subsidizing them, hoping to earn back even more from them in the long run. After all, looking at how Tzeentch seduced the Primarch Magnus, the four masters of the Empyrean certainly lacked neither the capital for such investments nor the patience to wait.

Even a Primarch with superhuman intellect could be deceived, and Arthur was merely a young man who had grown up in a greenhouse during the 3K era; he believed he lacked the wisdom to discern such traps and certainly didn't have the guts to gamble.

Regardless, until they exited the warp and found a Blank to verify whether their anomalies were truly related to warp power, he would remain skeptical.

"Indeed."

Nodding, Romulus pushed Arthur forward.

"You go up and draw the fire; I’ve got a dozen gun-lines waiting for the enemy."

The interior of a warship is cramped; combat is a race to see who fires first and whose firepower can kill the opponent before they can return the favor.

Therefore, in shipboard skirmishes, the side with superior firepower always holds the advantage, and it is not uncommon for Astartes to be traded for by mere mortals.

With a dozen bolters and meltas behind him, crushing under-supplied heretics would be simple.

"Fine. Make it quick."

Arthur shook his head, focusing his attention forward. Bracing his shield, he moved in a half-crouch, quickly sweeping through the compartment.

There were certainly more than just one lurking Chaos Marine.

But the heretics, having already claimed victory, naturally wouldn't be on alert for a force that shouldn't have been there. Many Chaos Marines who attempted to ambush Arthur were met with sheer disbelief when they saw the row of blue giants behind him.

Chaos had granted them formidable physiques and combat instincts, but those instincts were not enough to withstand a saturated barrage of bolter fire in a confined space.

Arthur remained focused, maintaining his optimal defensive posture as he pushed forward.

They eventually reached the base of the generator, a space that was slightly more expansive.

The nauseating stench of blood reached its peak at that very moment.