The Bizarre Adventures of the Oil Man, but Starting with Warhammer 32K

They have arrived at the Black Templars' headquarters.

Although Maximus lacked a dedicated monastery, the Black Templars constructed a simple monastery as best they could. In the center of the plaza, they placed a massive stone statue of the Emperor, surrounded by Holy Light. After completing their training, the Black Templars prayed to the Emperor at the statue's feet.

Kurland didn't know where the Black Templars, who had lost their battle barge, had gotten the statue. Judging from the statue's appearance, it was obviously completed not long ago.

"While I believe there's not that much difference between us, some people are clearly overly superstitious."

Isaga said.

“We don’t know them.”

Kurland protested, but in his heart he agreed.

The Black Templars on duty stepped forward to inspect them. These warriors had an innate pride. They respected Kurland and Isaga, but only gave a simple salute.

"Grand Marshal Bosimonde invites you to meet him. Do you need a guide?"

"No, the Kurland brothers and I will go on our own."

"Of course, my lord. It's your freedom."

Isaga clearly wanted to talk to Kurland some more. After the Black Templars left, he shrugged and said, "Our Templar brothers are too noble, and perhaps a little willful."

"So too did the legendary Sigismund, said to be a favorite of Dorne and a former captain of the Imperial Fists."

Kurland responded subconsciously, but he suddenly realized that this might be the root cause of the problems with the high wall in the end.

"maybe."

Isaga remained noncommittal. "I once duelled with Sigismund. He was a powerful and respectable warrior, and he ripped off one of my arms in a matter of minutes. We never harbored any enmity, but that duel also revealed to me the true nature of the Black Templars."

"Nature?"

"They see the Emperor as a god. That's what they are. And as sons of a god, our genetic father is also considered a god, and that extends to each of us, the Imperial Fists. You know what we're considered? Demigods."

This idea was completely contrary to the imperial truth that Kurland firmly believed in. Fortunately, Isaga was his ally.

"Those mortals we protect mostly share their sentiments, but let them worship. The Emperor is a great being, and our Gene-Father was created by his knowledge, not by divine intervention. Whatever we do, we must know one thing—we are far from being gods."

"I have always known this, Brother Issagar."

Isaga stopped and looked at Kurland, his eyes full of expectation.

"That's exactly why the accusers support you even more to lead the final wall."

Kurland didn't know how to respond for a moment, but Isaga just smiled and patted his shoulder.

"Just don't let Bosimonde know what we just talked about."

The conversation ended here, and they got out of the car and went into Bosimonde's room together.

Unlike the exquisitely crafted stone sculptures of the emperor outside, Bosimonde's room was simple and plain. Without any windows or decorations, it looked like a meditation room for an ascetic monk.

The Grand Marshal, who had just recovered from a serious injury, was now not wearing armor. He was now wearing a simple, antique-colored robe, but the sword of Sigismund, which symbolized his status as Grand Marshal, was still tied at his waist.

There was nothing in the room except the papers that Bosimonde needed to deal with.

Kurland respected this frugality, but it also made him realize that this great marshal, whom Leon ridiculed as having a strong addiction to being a foodie, would probably not be easily persuaded by him.

"Welcome, brothers."

Bosimonde stood up, though his face showed no sign of welcome. "I thought you must be here to discuss the next deployment."

The Grand Marshal still harbored a grudge against being forcibly taken from the Ork battleship. The defeat in battle and the loss of the Black Sword were both deeply humiliating. He warned himself not to vent his anger on Kurland, who had in fact saved the Black Templars' expeditionary force, but this didn't stop him from feeling rather gloomy.

"That is so, Brother Bosimonde. But before that, Brother Kurland has a gift for you."

Isaga, who had taken the lead in the conversation, stepped back, leaving the stage to Kurland, who pointed to the cars parked outside the door.

"The gene seeds of the Black Templars rescued from the Abomination are all here. We only ensured the survival of the seeds and did not conduct any inspections on them. Now, I will return them to the Black Templars intact."

The Black Templars would leave their seeds on every planet they liberated to breed new blood, which resulted in a limited amount of gene-seed stored on their warships. Even so, more than a hundred gene-seeds were still a valuable asset.

Bosimonde's expression softened considerably, but he still didn't address Kurland as leader. "On behalf of the Black Templars, I thank you for your help. The glory of the God-Emperor's warriors should be inherited by future generations through their gene-seed."

This statement made Kurland very uncomfortable, but the atmosphere between them did ease. He didn't want to delay, so he chose to go straight to the point.

"We should unite and return to Terra's aid, now!"

Chapter 121: The Legion’s Crossroads.

Bosimonde glanced at Kurland.

This statement clearly did not suit his liking, but considering the gene-seed elements, he remained noncommittal and said, "I advise you not to do that. We are too few in number; we are only a single Codex Corps."

"We don't have enough numbers to ensure victory, that's a fact."

Kurland admitted, "But protecting the throne world is our mission. As long as we work together, I believe we can make victory possible."

"Actually, I have other plans."

The Grand Marshal lifted several documents from his desk and handed a few to Kurland and Isaga. "It's not just the Battle Moon approaching Covenant Harbor. There are now reports of sightings of Battle Moons across the Empire. We won't get any reinforcements just by holding on in the Solar Segmentum. The Empire's outer reaches are already tied down by the various Battle Moons, making it difficult for them to mobilize forces to aid Terra."

Bosimonde didn't say what he was thinking directly, but Kurland understood his hidden meaning: "You mean we should take the initiative."

"Of course, ultimately, the High Wall's strength should be centered on other Battle Moons. We need to proactively wipe out those Orks, gather those forces that cannot return to support, and ultimately assemble a large army to return to Terra. I will launch an expedition in the name of the Grand Marshal, so that we can even obtain assistance from forces other than the Astartes."

Isaga was about to say something, but Kurland held out his hand to stop him. He took a step forward and looked closely into the Grand Marshal's eyes.

"So, what about Throne World?"

He asked word by word.

"Of course we'll go back."

"When? After the fall of Terra?"

"Must we turn back now, Kurland? What will we do if the Imperial Fists and the Paragon Fists, even my Black Templars, are destroyed? We must fight with greater caution."

The Grand Marshal was indeed thoughtful beyond his personal involvement, and even Kurland had to admit he had some truth in his words. However, defending Terra was the Imperial Fists' mission, and it was also the purpose of his gathering the Final Wall. Kurland would never back down from such a situation.

"We have but one battle to fight, Marshal Poseidon, and that is the defense of Terra."

He said gravely, "A thousand years ago, our father fell when failure seemed inevitable, and neither will we now."

Bosimonde looked at Kurland in surprise. He did not agree with Kurland's ideas, but was moved by Kurland's will.

"Allow me to give you an analogy."

"Grand Marshal, there is no time for stories—"

"It'll only take a moment."

Isaga pulled Kurland, and Kurland compromised, and they sat down face to face.

"Sigismund was Dorn's favorite son. When the Black Templars were formed during the Second Founding, Sigismund was given one of Dorn's favorite ships—the Everlasting Crusade—as a key to his efforts to expand the Empire's reach. It was a Glorious Queen-class battleship, alas, still under restoration in the shipyards of Seppramundi, and will not be returned to us for twenty years. I deeply mourn its loss, but the spirit it represented lives on in the hearts of every one of us in the Black Templars."

"what do you mean?"

"Sigismund vowed never to rest. He said the Black Templars would not build walls, but would only advance. We would only fulfill the purpose for which the Emperor created us: to bring the galaxy under Humanity's rule. Not to watch it fall apart under the guise of defense."

"The sons of Dorn are renowned for their defense of their cities. But we, the followers of Sigismund, are not like that – for us, offense is the only form of defense. Our blades are our breastworks, our tanks our fortresses. Every weapon is most powerful when advancing, and even the walls of Terra are of no use if the enemy is allowed to dwell outside the gates."

Bosimonde's remarks were definitely radical, and Isaga wanted to refute them together with Kurland. But when he turned his head, he found Kurland's expression was surprisingly calm.

It's not that he wasn't angry, but his anger was drowned out by an indescribable sadness.

Was this the origin of the great rebellion, brothers so alienated by circumstances that they no longer recognized their brothers and turned against each other?

Kurland knew that Bosimonde was also a son of Dorne, but their differences had now made them strangers. He couldn't help but think of Leon, the Mechanicus sage who could provide far more help than his brother.

He refused Bosimonde's further explanation and instead pointed out the facts directly: "You are watching Terra fall."

As Kurland had expected, Bosimonde didn't answer directly. He ignored Kurland's words and continued emphatically, "We have a better option now. If we attack immediately and intercept the Ork fleet and the remaining Battle Moons while gathering reinforcements, we will hinder the Ork's advance. These beasts will be forced to turn back and fight us. But if we return to Terra, most of the Empire will be destroyed."

"Then Terra will disappear."

Kurland stood up, unwilling to continue the conversation. "Marshal, you regard the Emperor as a god. If you abandon Terra, what about the Emperor?"

A strange expression crossed Bosimonde's face, as if he had never thought about this question before: "Of course the Emperor is eternal."

Of course, the gods could not be defeated by beasts. Even if Terra fell, the light of the gods would still shine as brightly as ever. At least that was what the Black Templars believed.

Kurland closed his eyes, both hearts pounding in his chest, the first time outside of combat he had experienced a purely psychological stress response.

Isaga also stood up, he knew it was time for him to appear.

"Brother Bohemund, you have at your waist the sword that belonged to Sigismund."

Isaga pointed at the sword. He knew the origins of the High Marshal's Sword well, for it was with it that Sigismund had severed his arm centuries before. "This sword is forged from the broken sword of Dorne, which our father broke in a fit of rage when he failed to protect the Emperor. This sword is now passed down to you. I believe you should not sit idly by and watch Terra fall, allowing the same fate to repeat itself."

Bosimonde's eyes turned cold: "Are you accusing me, Isaga?"

"I simply wish to set your priorities straight, High Marshal. Whose oath is more important to you? Sigismund? He was a great warrior, the first Champion of the Emperor, the first Black Templars. But shouldn't our father Dorn take precedence over him? The defense of Terra is the duty Dorn has entrusted to every son of Dorn, including Sigismund. Will you deny Dorn for Sigismund? Will the Black Templars uphold the oath that flows through our blood?"

"How will you defend Terra? The flaming daemon weapons of the Imperial Fists? Or your warp sorcery?"

The ironic Bosimonde also stood up, and Isaga knew that he had not convinced him. This conversation had come to an end.

"We will defend Terra in our own way, but it will not be a passive defense."

Bosimonde ordered them to leave: "Let this conversation end here. I will not stop the actions of the Final Wall, but the Black Templar will not be influenced by the decision of the Final Wall."

He split the Final Wall and the Black Templars into two main bodies - but at least this was not the worst-case scenario where the Imperial Fists and the Black Templars would fight for command.

Kurland said nothing and left the room first.

Bosimonde, or the Black Templar, was not worthy of his attention at all.

But Isaga paused for a moment, and after Kurland left, he asked, "What is the Black Templar going to do?"

"If the walls ultimately don't support me, then I must regroup the troops."

Bosimonde replied: "I will call upon the rest of the Black Templars' expeditionary forces and use our own strength to fulfill our mission."

"You must send a small team to the final wall, even if it's just one person."

"You want me to acknowledge the leadership of the Imperial Fists?"

"It's important, even if it's just symbolic, to ensure that ultimately the wall doesn't break apart."

Poseidon thought for a moment, and even though they had different opinions, he finally nodded without any intention of causing internal strife.

"I have a warrior named Lancelot here, you can take him away."

Chapter 122: Set out again.

The result of the discussion was not at all unexpected to Li Ang.

Kurland was eager to return to Terra's aid, while Bosimonde was determined to go his own way. They disagreed, but in any case, Maxim could not stay.

The orcs stopped attacking, and things turned out like this. As the saying goes, a small thing can reveal a big thing, so it doesn't seem so difficult to understand why the Great Rebellion broke out at the end of the Great Crusade.

Leon could only arrange his affairs as quickly as possible. After making some rough arrangements for Maxim's future, he prepared to set out with the coalition forces of the Final Wall.

"Why did you insist on going back with them to help Terra?"

Christina asked, "One Forge World can't satisfy your appetite?"

"Because this is just a forging world."

Li Ang answered.

After a period of adjustment, Maxim had restored some of the production capacity unique to Forge Worlds. It was now able to meet the needs of the Astra Militarum Legion, and some equipment that was no longer available could be repaired or reused.

But this level is already the limit now.

The destruction of the spaceport prevented Maxim from maintaining its fleet, nor from manufacturing new warships. External resources were also unable to enter Maxim on a large scale.

Before the spaceport was rebuilt, this forging world, which could only rely on its own resources, had reached the limit of what it could achieve.

But rebuilding the spaceport is a huge project, and even with Li Ang in charge, it will not be completed in a short time.

The current situation is different from what Leon had previously envisioned with Maxim as the center - in the end, the High Wall coalition forces only managed to get a troublemaker who had lost his ship and refused to obey orders, and the Astartes strike fleet had not been assembled.

The idea of ​​accumulating troops on Maximus and then using the Astartes' transport power to attack Terra was no longer feasible. Although Maximus was still important, Leon might not wait here.

So he proposed a plan that was enough to convince the Final Wall, and then used this plan to leave Maxim and go to Port Covenant with them.

"Your decision doesn't seem like that of a sage of the Adeptus Mechanicus."

Faced with Christina's doubts, Li Ang could only knock his head: "There's nothing I can do, it's innate."

Even Acheron VIII, eager for xenos technology, spent most of his time commanding his Skitarii from the Mechanicus's exploratory fleets. A sage willing to charge into battle alongside an Astartes was indeed a rarity within the Mechanicus.