Warhammer: In the Name of Ashes

Just like the last time I visited here decades ago, the white ice and snow of the Northland Plateau and howling winds are the eternal background here.

As the Storm Bird lowered its flight altitude from high in the sky, the forest sea beyond sight reminded Elvis of the time when he first left here, as if it was yesterday.

"Elder, what are you thinking about?" Malves asked beside him.

"Nothing, just a little memory." Elvis pulled away from his memory and glanced at Mal and his brothers beside him.

He lowered his head slightly to hide his gaze, but what couldn't be blocked was the burning hope in his heart at this time.

Like the other dozen battle brothers behind him, the power armor on Malvis is still a product of the St. Chris in recent years.

Qingyishui's Mark IV type has been supplemented and strengthened for the gaps between the neck and other armors. It is really affordable and easy to use.

Whenever he sees the new reflective power armor on these new recruits, Elvis can always think of the poor days when he and his other brothers used armor parts to each other in the war group.

Nowadays, life is affluent, but it is a pity that there are no more people there.

In the eyes of the mechanical magi, this amount of armor is not worth mentioning. It is not enough for the St. Chris's production capacity for one day.

If it weren't for the high technical content of the servo instruments, just a hundred or so sets of Mark IV would probably be enough to handle in half a day's work for the main forge on the Mechanical Ark.

But they still flatly rejected Elvis's production application in the early stages.

There are many reasons, but to sum up, it is expensive, the process is cumbersome, and the cost of making molds is more expensive than the cost of materials.

But can these really stump these mechanical priests? impossible!

What is so expensive? The local population and minerals are all for nothing. There are no imported materials at all. Where does the cost come from?

Why is the process so cumbersome? Isn’t it possible that the Mechanicum is best at automated manufacturing?

What is the mold cost? It has been more than 5,000 years since the STC public technology authorization of the Mark IV was launched from Mars! The complete set of drawings and parameters are almost growing in the minds of these mechanical priests, okay? Where are the fees for new students!

They simply did not want unplanned work to occupy their private research time, and Elvis knew this well.

But fortunately Lord Calvin supported his idea. He still vividly remembers the conversation that Lord Calvin had with Constantine and other priests at that time. When Calvin said to these priests:

"There is indeed a demand for such a batch of materials in the plan, but since the quantity is small and not cost-effective, I suggest we just buy a few thousand sets."

As soon as he finished speaking, the priests who had just said that the molds were expensive were dumbfounded. This was not what they expected.

So all the reasons came out: "The electromagnetic muscle cultivation period is too long, the alloy processing requirements for the internal pipelines are too high, and the main forge construction period is tight and cannot be delayed."

Elvis almost suppressed his smile as he watched Calvin bargain with them several times before finally finalizing the batch of 1,200 sets of power armor and supporting equipment and spare parts one by one.

Under the intentional or unintentional favoritism of this gentleman and Father Constantine, they pursued the victory and finally finalized the installation plan of a set of independent and fixed power armor parts production lines. Like the subsequent small arms and ammunition production lines, it was on the newly established In a fortress monastery reserved for their battle group on the industrial planet.

The production line's production capacity is not large, but 50 sets of complete power armor and corresponding small weapons and twice the number of spare parts every ten years can still be guaranteed.

It is better to teach people how to fish than to teach them how to fish.

Elvis still knew this. Therefore, he understands the significance of this production line to a battle group that has just been reborn from the ashes; he also understands what an upright heart lies behind Calvin's behavior of giving away core resources without reservation.

He was extremely grateful to the generous Primarch for his assistance to the Chapter, and secretly decided to prove the value of the former's generosity with the blood of his enemies on future battlefields.

"Hey... Hey... Elder Elvis, the destination has been reached. The intended target has come into view, please provide further instructions."

The voices of the two pilots in front of the Storm Bird came from the communicator in the ears, and the holographic device moved from the top of the cabin in front of them began to work.

Elvis put away his inner thoughts and focused on looking at the external landscape displayed by the holographic projection.

"Close air cruise! Weapon authorization lifted! Land in alert attitude!"

Elvis stretched out his hand and clicked on a place on the three-dimensional map displayed as a reserved landing site.

He raised his head and looked at the recruits beside him and across from him, his serious eyes sweeping over their heads. The recruits also couldn't help but straighten their bodies when they caught eyes, in response to the commanding officer's majestic gaze.

That's not Elvis's purpose. His real purpose was just to habitually check the recruits' fixtures.

But from the brutal selection of soldiers to the lengthy combat training, Elvis has been accompanying these recruits to grow up during their long military life. As he gained increasing prestige, every word and deed he said would arouse reactions from the soldiers, which was also a helpless move.

During the days without a Chapter Leader, he had gradually become accustomed to the life of giving orders.

But he clearly knew that the fate given to him by the Emperor was not this. He could only temporarily shelter these new recruits from the wind and rain. When the young people around him truly grew up, he would quietly retreat to his rightful position.

"Status check!" he ordered in a low voice.

The Astartes in the cabin received his order and began to check the status of their power armor, weapons, and fixed mounts in an orderly manner, and responded to him one by one in accordance with military discipline:

"Private Bud is in good condition, please give instructions!"

"Private Randolph is in good condition, please give instructions!"

"Private Simmons is in good condition, please give instructions!"

"Private Joel is in good condition, please give instructions!"

"Sergeant Malvis is in good condition, please give instructions!"...

When the last familiar voice around him sounded, he raised his head to inspect the Astartes recruits in the cabin, and under their gaze, he put on the sacred white Mark VI helmet that symbolized his position as apothecary.

It just so happened that the announcement from the driver's seat had also come. Upon confirmation of his reply, the airdrop gates under the feet of the Astartes warriors in the cabin were opened.

He took one last look at these soldiers, then pressed the decompression valve switch on his chest and fell first.

Thousands of meters high in the air, the wind was biting, and the Storm Bird, powered by its powerful engine, hovered stably just above the cathedral at the rear of the battleship.

Elvis flew out of the Storm Bird's belly and activated the jetpack behind him, observing the situation below.

The towering statues on the church dome were covered with snow.

St. Celestine's figure with wings on her back and a sword held high is still upright. The slightly skewed direction is the result of the collapse of the ground when the battleship landed. It does not affect her sanctity in the slightest.

Through the wind and snow, Elvis led the Astartes behind him and flew towards the main entrance of the church, where there was a portal he had reserved for himself, guarded by a servo that remained on standby in a shallow sleep.

"Password!"

The emotionless servitor awakened from his icy slumber and spoke to Elvis.

"Reborn from the ashes!" Elvis did not hesitate. The soldiers behind him also descended from the sky and gathered in an orderly manner behind him.

"The voice print is passed, the key is passed. Welcome back, respected Lord Pharmacist Elvis."

As the electronic sound of drying wet parts came out, two armored belts as large as a football field and more than ten meters thick on the hull directly in front of the church slowly opened to both sides.

In the gap in the center, a spare corridor rarely used except for battleship overhaul appeared in front of them.

"Your Majesty the Emperor!"

Even if you are used to the constant roar of the steel forge on the Mechanical Ark day and night, and the power of the gravity fleet that changes the day and night.

But when a battleship, a steel behemoth several kilometers long that they were told belonged to them, opened in front of their eyes. These Astartes who had not yet experienced the baptism of a long time could not help but be shocked.

These soldiers are rare and timid because they know that if there is no accident, this will be their permanent residence in the future.

This huge battleship, which can be called a space city, will serve them, as will the mortals and slaves who will be stationed later. Under their leadership, they will fight for the entire human race in the vast sea of ​​​​stars.

What a magnificent epic that is!

They knew all along that their fate was sealed.

But after going through difficult selections, cruel surgeries, and long training, when this life really opened up and beckoned to them with the epic scene in front of them, they actually hesitated somewhat shamefully.

"Focus! Recruit! Keep your focus!" Elvis's voice came from the ice and snow.

His stern eyes swept over all the recruits. In the shameful eyes of the recruits, Elvis stepped forward and was the first to jump down.

In the orbit of the industrial planet, the St. Chris is suspended on an iron ring that is half under construction.

The mining planets in the surrounding galaxies have been deployed, and a large number of transport spacecraft can be seen coming from outside every moment.

Under the watchful eye of Mechanical Ark, these spacecraft transported the ore to the star port and sent it to the surface. Then, after preliminary processing in the factory below, it is returned to space and handed over to Mechanical Ark for further melting and forging.

The base on the iron ring belt is surrounded by countless small construction ships like a swarm against this background. The installation work continues day and night and has lasted for ten years.

Once these frameworks are in place, larger factories and smelters will sit on them.

The ultimate goal of the project here is to provide basic maintenance for large ships, and to have the ability to build ships below cruisers in emergencies.

"How long have they been gone?"

In the cabin specially prepared for Calvin on the St. Chris, dim yellow lights illuminated the long table made of basalt.

In addition to the necessary office supplies, there is only a huge single bed placed on the other side of the room in the empty cabin.

Calvin broke away from his desk and took the time to rest his eyes and look far away. He accidentally glanced at the clock on the wall, and then he asked Allen this question.

"48 hours and 1 minute, my lord." In the shadow behind the long table, Alan Janus' still figure was like a sculpture.

When Calvin's voice sounded, the Gray Knight, who now served as Calvin's adjutant, quickly gave his reply without looking at the data pad in his hand.

"Has the fleet of slave workers set off?" Calvin turned his attention back to the documents on the table without raising his head, but it was obvious that the question was not over.

"Three hours ago, 150,000 people had reached the minimum requirement, and Father Constantine had ordered permission to leave the port."

"How do the navigator and other crew members implement this?"

"Master Solan, the deputy superintendent of the foundry, recommended a group of family members serving within the monastery. The specific decision will be left to Elvis."

"Okay. Hope they're doing well."

Calvin looked toward the floor-to-ceiling porthole in the front. It was exactly when the orbits of the two planets were approaching. Through the uninhabited starry sky, Calvin could even see the surging air masses in the atmosphere.

Elvis is about to leave here, after his regiment resumes its basic organization.

This is the time when the Fire Eagle Chapter once again returned to the sight of the high lords after disappearing from the eyes of the empire for nearly a hundred years;

It was also the time when he, as Calvin's messenger, initiated contact with other war groups that cursed the founding of the army.

Calvin was not too worried about the emperor's questioning.

After all, it is an Astartes warband. Unless there is an obvious tendency to betray, the High Lords Council will still have basic respect.

The threat from the Inquisition is not a problem. Now that the gene-seed has been completely purified, from top to bottom, the Fire Eagles are the purest warriors of the Emperor. Of course, they can also withstand the comprehensive test.

But what about those warbands plagued by the curse? Calvin did not trust them.

These genetically contaminated Astartes warriors each have their own quirks. Calvin found it hard to believe that every Chapter could communicate as effectively as the Fire Eagles.

In Calvin's eyes, whether the person can be brought back is still a secondary matter.

But if any battle group loses its mind and swings the butcher knife in its hand at Elvis and others, then with his commander who is a pharmacist and fifty recruits, it will really be a wolf. The tiger's mouth is gone and never comes back.

But Calvin had to take this risk. As his height continued to grow, he already knew clearly that the power of time and space would break down the constraints on him.

There is not much time left for him, and every minute and every second is precious.

He had to send this new war group in advance as a liaison messenger to initiate contact with those war groups who also belonged to the 21st Army Founding.

This is the basic condition for gaining people's trust. Otherwise, how can we reassure those battle groups that regard seed mutation as top secret?

Only with the equally cursed Elvis and the new recruits standing in front of them could the Chapter believe that the Seed could be purified. Only with his persuasion could he go to this planet to meet Calvin.

On the distant planet, the light of the battleship engine lit up. It was the battleship struggling to escape the gravity of the planet after sleeping for a long time.

Calvin knew that this was the end, he had done all he could, and the rest could only be left to fate. The seeds have been sown, and whether there will be a return can only be left to the Emperor to decide.

Two-in-one update, please vote.