Chapter 393: What Do You Think of the Codex Astartes?
Rustle~
Pages turned, and a silver-grey knight walked alongside.
In the distant Governance Spire, Custodians pressed to their workstations by the Regent saw that glorious figure from ten kilometers away, their eyes filled with envy and admiration.
After Arthur submitted the daily deployment summary and had it approved by Romulus for distribution on the internal communication system, Ramesses also broke free from the warp immersion and returned to the Dawnstar Orbital Ring.
The three expansion zones within the warp were basically confirmed to be the three affecting the Dawnstar Sector. Now it was time to return, assemble troops, and kill the bastards.
He held the report and scanned it quickly. The date at the top read 7th Day, 12th Month, followed by nearly 70 pages of data.
Every day, he spent less than a minute verifying these documents—emerging from the warp to check. Unless there were specific requirements, he had to protect the members within the communication system through such back-and-forth actions, preventing their perceived time from deviating too much from reality.
"What do you think of the Codex Astartes?"
Carefully avoiding a group of caregivers who couldn't see him, Corvus Corax looked at the composition of these caregivers and asked.
"Hmm?"
Ahead of him, the always unrestrained figure tilted his head, slightly surprised, then politely said to Corax: "I usually read it on the toilet."
"..."
Corax glanced at him. The courage he had mustered after thirty years of PUA was stuffed back down his throat by this sentence.
Fatal.
This conversation couldn't continue at all.
"Just kidding."
"...I'm not going down."
Corax's gaze shifted, landing on his sons returning from the Ghoul Stars for support.
The Ashen Claws and Carcharodons rushed back as soon as they received the news. The troops were split into two: one went through the wormhole to support Huron, who was completely surrounded, and the other returned via warp travel to the relatively quiet Dawnstar Sector.
The situation changed too fast. In just one year, the Ghoul Stars, still plagued by Necrons and Slaugth, had become the area with lower combat intensity.
And Corax didn't like these sons.
Different philosophies. Dislike was dislike.
"Why?"
Ramesses pretended to be surprised and asked: "Are you afraid of them?"
"No."
"Then have you changed your mind?"
Ramesses asked again.
For no reason, his tone seemed a bit aggressive.
Like dealing with a child throwing a tantrum, stubbornly refusing to say why.
"No, no."
Corax braced himself and said: "They don't like me, and I don't like them. We disgust each other. The current me can't give them anything either. It's best if you talk to them."
The Ashen Claws and Carcharodons really didn't have any Primarch filter. They had been in a free-range state since their ancestors. Whoever treated them well, they treated well.
Especially the Ashen Claws. They had been shouting 'my dad is dead' for ten thousand years. Their attitude towards Corax had long been that he was better off dead.
If they really had to pick a favorite Primarch, it would probably be Arthur, who was still coordinating the military of the entire sector, or Horus from ten thousand years ago at worst.
Pure Warmaster fans.
And Corax had a temper too. Although he was happy that his sons hadn't fallen, he didn't want to deal with these sons whose style completely contradicted his worldview. If they liked finding the Warmaster, let them go. Comparing him to this and that every day—he really couldn't provide any emotional value, nor did he want to.
It was just that this gloomy Primarch always held it in.
"Exactly. Just say it. Everyone has people they dislike. Even those two succubi, Karna and Master Art, can't please everyone. If you don't like them, you don't like them. Why act like enemies?"
Ramesses glanced at him, then clapped his hands: "I will convey what you wanted to say but didn't, and what you did say."
Tell others, don't overthink whether your dad has issues with you and won't see you, but that he indeed has issues so he won't see you, right?
Corax thought somewhat desperately, nodding bracingly.
"I have no opinion on the Codex Astartes."
Ramesses continued, explaining his previous reply: "We have no interest in settling old scores, nor do we have the time. You saw it yourself—"
He pointed to the magnificent orbital ring megastructure, a super project completed in just a few decades.
"We are united now, thoughts and beliefs condensed into one. Guilliman's messy affairs are written in textbooks. I got the license stamped by the Emperor and sent to Ultramar. Master Art is now wiping the asses of three First Founding Chapters. If I weren't worried that Chaos worshippers would follow suit, I would dare to write down Horus's deeds. Old grudges really don't matter to us."
Walking, the two passed a military rest area.
The epidemic prevention intensity in the Dawnstar Sector was high. In areas like Dawnstar, the army was basically on continuous rotation. Rest areas were temporarily set up in various blocks for the rotation of various regiments.
"That thing you're reading."
An older sergeant, mouth full of sausage, with purple eyes, muttered while looking at the book in his soldier's hand: "Interesting."
The young soldier glared at him and raised the book slightly.
This stormtrooper had slept for more than two hours, and after that, his head hadn't moved from the book.
"Just resting my eyes, kid."
The sergeant grinned: "But be careful. 'Imperium Secundus' National Conditions Reader (812.M41 Edition)—huh? Back home, you'd get in trouble. This stuff is quite blasphemous, very likely to get you shot."
"The sector doesn't seem to regulate these."
The soldier said: "I don't think there was anything wrong with the Primarchs' decision at the time. At most, it was a misjudgment of the situation. The existence of Imperium Secundus and the Second Emperor was nothing more than hoping to unite more human forces isolated by the rift with this slogan. In fact, this approach was very successful. Ultramar held a small half of the galaxy with it."
"Be careful outside. Some extreme fanatics won't buy your theory."
The veteran responded. He didn't care much about the divergent thinking of these young people, nor did he know whether such divergent thinking was a blessing or a curse.
Just thank the Dawnbreakers for giving these kids a chance to think safely.
A small piece of sausage stuck to his beard. He cut another slice, forked it on the knife tip, and handed it to the soldier.
The soldier ate it casually, then nodded.
Many times, as long as the sacred packaging is peeled off, many filters naturally disappear, and conspiracy theories collapse.
Corax fell silent too.
He watched the mortals resting with the Astartes.
He had seen such scenes many times in thirty years, especially in the last ten years.
But how to say it.
The Lord of Shadows continued walking, but his eyes couldn't help glancing at those humans.
Never tired of seeing it.
"If I really have any opinion on Guilliman, it's that he's too weak. Damn it, he lost the duel with Fulgrim and lay in the ICU, feeling good, leaving the cesspool to us now."
Ramesses slowed down slightly and continued to complain.
He really hoped the four of them could live happily. After finishing work every day, they could play games, talk about life, talk about interesting things, live a stable daily life like normal college students, and stop talking about state affairs and politics all the time.
But the reality was that if the four of them didn't want to be fed shit, they could only force themselves to run to the gym.
It wasn't that the four of them didn't want to play, but sometimes their conscience was there. They really couldn't stand seeing disaster coming and not doing anything when they had the ability.
Romulus was truly in pain when handling government affairs. Many times, he was angered by all kinds of outrageous things into a look of bitter hatred. Many times, this career didn't bring him positive feedback, but he still persisted.
Going through water and fire, either exercising or on the way to exercise. As a result, Karna was basically demented now. With too much computing power occupied, he could only reply mechanically with 'mm-hm-hm' and then gorge on the fruit platter.
"When I revive him, I'll definitely use a spell to pin him to his workstation. He'll never leave the desk in this life."
He clenched his fist, the long staff inlaid with gold and spirit stones creaking.
That was terrifying.
"Even so, I will stay here."
Corax spoke, his gaze never leaving the barracks: "Because I don't intend to risk reopening old wounds. You go talk to them... I think they appreciate you."
After speaking, he even pushed Ramesses, as if rushing away a plague god.
Ramesses nodded and didn't force him anymore.
This was huge progress. It could only be said that the loyalist super Raven Guard therapy worked well, although they were now classified as warp daemons.
"Tell me, are you willing to trust us now?"
Ramesses asked.
Corax said: "Yes. Out of gratitude for your help to me, I will participate in your cause."
His gaze lingered on the Astartes mingling with the crowd for a long time.
Clearly, he wanted to.
"Sigh, hopeless case."
Ramesses pointed and commented: "Can't even eat four dishes in this life."
Old Nineteen fell silent.
Ramesses turned and left.
"Then stay here and wait for my return."
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