Chapter 169: What to Do? Just Kill! |
Aboard the "Silent Oath", Arthur hurled an Alpharius into a Warp rift, banishing him to Rameses's enclave in the Warp, before turning on his heel and walking away.
He raised his hand, his palm blocking out specific lines in the background. Zabriel, who was still carrying out sweeping operations, immediately understood the gesture and led his squad to set up a defensive perimeter.
"Speak."
Arthur prompted.
"Are you done dealing with the Alphas?"
Romulus asked.
Ever since they entered human colonies, members of the Alpha Legion had been arriving in succession. Because this particular branch of Alphas had deeply infiltrated both the Chartered Fleets and the Imperial Navy, several Dark Angels had even hitched a ride on their ships.
However, the situation was far from optimistic.
This Grand Company, calling themselves the Sons of the First Return, numbered precisely 1,458 Astartes, with an unknown number of new recruits in reserve. Of the 216 who had boarded so far, nearly two-thirds were tainted by Chaos. They absolutely could not be spared. Furthermore, nine of them had already been possessed by Daemons.
Lately, both Arthur and Rameses had been busy executing the Chaos-aligned Alphas, selecting personnel to take over their intelligence networks, and arranging accommodations for the uncorrupted Alphas.
It was an exhausting operation. Just because the Alphas struggled to infiltrate the Dark Angels' system did not mean they lacked professional competence. These cunning Hydras were not easily fooled, and getting them to obediently work for the fleet required a tremendous amount of effort.
"I can slip away."
Arthur glanced at his surroundings before replying.
The nearby Dark Angels who overheard the conversation immediately felt a sense of relief.
"Help me deal with a few targets. Some of them might be quite far away, so you will need Ravenwing assistance."
Romulus stated.
"Understood."
Arthur nodded and received the list. With a wave of his hand, several dark silhouettes vanished into thin air alongside him.
——
The arrival of the Expeditionary Fleet brought unprecedented victory, greatly boosting the morale of the punitive fleet's personnel.
The soldiers fighting on the front lines finally let go of some of their resentment. At least in the propaganda directed at them, their valiant combat efforts had played a significant role in stalling the enemy.
This statement was not entirely false. After all, if these men had not pushed through tactical blunders to hold back the Farsight Enclaves, there might have been nothing left by the time the Expeditionary Fleet arrived.
However, in stark contrast to the joyous atmosphere among the grassroots troops, a bloody purge was underway across the various fleets and among the Rogue Traders.
"Amphion Fox, Dynasty Lord of the Fox dynasty. As of 0121.743.M41, you incited Imperial civil war, indirectly... You are hereby convicted of high treason and sentenced to hang."
"Emory Vasquez, Captain of the battleship 'Emperor's Will'. As of—"
Crack—
An exquisite timepiece shattered. Blood dripped down luxurious garments, casting a dark stain upon the crimson carpet under the glaring lights.
Not far away in the grand hall, corpses hung from ornate streetlamps designed to mimic surface-level opulence, swaying gently in the artificial breeze generated by the climate control systems.
Inquisitor Roster was dragged to the gravity noose in this manner. The Inquisition rosette hanging around his neck dug deep marks into his skin under the forceful coercion.
His face flushed crimson as he glared furiously at the knight standing before him, a series of broadcasted charges echoing in his mind.
He could not comprehend how the Expeditionary Fleet dared to arrest naval nobles and Rogue Traders, much less believe they had the audacity to lay hands on the Inquisition.
'How dare they? How dare they!'
'The Inquisition will not let you get away with this! A second Months of Shame will surely fall upon you!'
The inquisitor's body twitched, his bones already broken. Arthur expressionlessly strung him up, effectively choking back the words Roster had just brought to his lips.
The Months of Shame had fundamentally been a power struggle where the Inquisition tried to crush the Astartes. It ultimately ended with the Inquisition being humiliated and stripped of their dignity. Ever since then, any threat the Inquisition posed to the First Founding Chapters seemed utterly laughable.
Arthur could not be bothered to explain this; the man was not worthy of hearing it anyway.
Arthur let go, and the gravity lock rapidly hoisted the man upward—
The upper echelons of the Imperium generally possessed some degree of bodily augmentations. Ordinary hangings could not kill such people; even the execution devices had to be of superior quality.
Arthur then surveyed the lavish banquet hall, spacious enough to accommodate tens of thousands of nobles milling about freely. Looking at the corpses swaying in the wind, he nodded in satisfaction.
Thanks to the Imperium's sheer extravagance, there were still streetlamps to spare even after hanging nearly ten thousand people.
"..."
Countless nobles attending the banquet watched the unfolding scene in sheer terror.
Some were gripped by absolute dread, praying for the Emperor's protection and hoping no more issues would arise, as their entire families were on the verge of being slaughtered.
Others panicked and frantically tried to draw their weapons, only to be forcefully pinned down by their relatives.
A few watched with eager anticipation, leisurely raising their wine glasses as they gazed out the viewports at the countless colossal warships blotting out the starlight.
It was a myriad of human reactions, difficult to summarize in a single phrase. Chosen mortal representatives read aloud their charges, while the Dark Angels methodically subjected these war criminals to their deserved punishments, one by one.
This was an execution targeting the entire Imperial elite.
"Inquisitor Roster, member of the Ordo Xenos. As of 0908.742.M41, you engaged in the unauthorized mobilization of the Tyranid defense fleets. As of 0121.743.M41, you interfered in internal Imperial conflicts, leaving the mobile forces of the Ultramar defensive line severely depleted. Your actions led to the fall of the Eastern Fringe, leaving over five hundred Imperial worlds directly exposed to the Tyranid offensive and causing trillions of Imperial citizens to suffer."
"During the punitive operation against the T'au Empire, you repeatedly issued flawed military decisions that squandered vast amounts of vital manpower. This included the loss of three Warhound-class Titans, ninety-three Astartes, and seven Astra Militarum regiments, bringing the punitive fleet's offensive to a complete standstill."
"You are hereby convicted of high treason, dereliction of duty, and eleven other charges, and sentenced to the punishment of white phosphorus."
"Carry out the execution immediately!"
A faint spark of flame dropped from the gravity noose, drifting onto his luxurious garments.
Every muscle in Inquisitor Roster's body trembled. He glared intently at the knight before him, but soon, the agonizing, bone-searing pain made it impossible for him to sustain his hateful stare.
Arthur did not even spare a glance at the man's contracting pupils. Casting another brief look at the surrounding nobles, he simply began reading the book in his hand—
A text acquired from the Alphas, detailing a series of infiltration operational plans used by their various branches.
Whoosh. Whoosh.
The white flames continued to burn, growing ever fiercer. Yet, because the gravity field confined the surrounding air, not a single sound escaped.
The brazen man vanished within the blaze, ultimately transforming into an eternally burning lamp under the restraint of gravity.
It would continue its silent combustion forever, serving as a grim warning to all who cast their gaze upon it.
——
The Expeditionary Fleet remained stationed in the Damocles Gulf for nearly nine weeks. It took almost as long as navigating through T'au Empire territory, but they finally managed to thoroughly purge the chaos within the sector.
Romulus was arguably the busiest man during this period. He had to take up the reins of power, coordinate communications with various factions across the sector, and formulate comprehensive plans.
Such as recovery initiatives, and development blueprints for the territories formerly held by the T'au Empire.
Romulus sat in discussion with the newly appointed Sector Governor regarding the sector's future development strategy.
Although the former Sector Governor had managed the internal development of the sector fairly well, losing over a dozen planets was an unforgivable crime. By Imperial law, he was obligated to face formal execution.
Fortunately, Romulus was willing to study the local politics and ultimately selected one of the old governor's political allies for the new appointment.
"Thanks to Lord Romulus's assistance, my people and I have been able to escape this catastrophic disaster."
The Sector Governor was profoundly grateful to Romulus. Not only had Romulus restored order to the disastrous mess in the Damocles Gulf, but the Expeditionary Fleet's arrival had also salvaged the standing of their noble alliance.
He had a fair amount of ambition, and he certainly was no fool.
It was simply that sometimes, the challenges they faced were beyond their capacity to resolve.
After all, with so many enemy battleships present, if the former Sector Governor had not chosen to fortify the orbital defense network to protect trade routes, their entire families would have been reduced to ashes under lance strikes by now.
Romulus had solved these problems for him and was even willing to assist them in managing the colony worlds. Despite his numerous demands, it was safe to assume the Expeditionary Fleet had little actual interest in claiming such an impoverished sector.
Going forward, using them as a foundation, the true priority lay in the internal factions of the Expeditionary Fleet—including the Inquisition, other Rogue Traders, the Astartes, and the Adeptus Mechanicus—developing the former T'au territories.
Rumor had it that several of these Space Marine Chapters currently lacked a homeworld.
Romulus held a rather favorable opinion of this relatively moderate noble alliance. They were, at the very least, far superior to those two Rogue Trader dynasties and Inquisitor Roster.
They understood the bigger picture, possessed the competence to develop the sector under specific conditions, and consistently paid their tithes. He could not ask for much more.
This was the absolute limit of mortals.
Having returned to the "Dawnlight", Romulus gazed at the "Northern Gulf Sector Development Plan" in his hands—a document finalized through extensive, multi-party negotiations—and let out a long sigh of relief.
The troublesome matters were finally resolved.
And now—
Pushing himself up and stretching his body slightly, Romulus planted both hands firmly on the edge of the command console. The gauntlets he had left unworn for far too long were shoved aside by his movement.
He could finally address the last, and most severe, problem.
Countless strategic routes began weaving together in his mind, and innumerable battlefields materialized in his imagination.
The Tyranid Hive Fleet.