Warhammer: Start with a dog

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After the three descendants, who were full of doubts but were doubly cautious and respectful because the Primarch had been so moody recently, finished their report.

good.

Now Ramizarn felt that his head was really starting to hurt.

As expected, it did a little bit of human work but not all of it - very good, and it fits the deceptive nature of the dove itself - whether the prophet was Him or not, it is no longer a problem now.

Because it wasn’t Him who was left here to deal with this mess!

Indeed, Ramizarn was not thrown at the worst time.

But knowing where they are and what they are doing now may not make it much better.

He thought with a headache.

First, a fierce battle is apparently currently underway, with two expeditionary fleets belonging to the Fourth Legion and tens of thousands of Iron Warriors here - and I, apart from knowing a little about the Art of War, don't know how to fight at all.

Secondly, the exact time is 999.M30, during the campaign known as the Battle of the Sak'trada Deeps - or, as it is more famous and known, the War of the Iron Warriors against the Hrud.

According to Ramizar's limited knowledge of 3K, Barabas Dantioch's abnormal aging and deportation to the border occurred during this battle.

But he couldn't be sure how far the battle had progressed or how bad the situation had become - it was definitely not good.

He therefore asked Fricks to give him more details of the war.

Although Chief Trident was full of worries, he still dutifully provided his genetic father with all the information he needed.

"So, the 51st Expeditionary Fleet led by Dantioch is still on the world of Gorkys, continuing to guard the strategic location of the Fulpa Gorge..."

Ramizarn was still sitting in the command deck room of the Iron Blood. The pharmacist had come and examined the Primarch with great doubt, then became even more panicked and didn't know what to do, until he heard the Lord of Iron asking him to prescribe normal treatment drugs. Then, after receiving the order "Tell anyone who asks you that my condition is not life-threatening but requires recuperation", he saluted and left.

At his request, a new desk was moved in and placed in front of his Iron Throne, and the bird cages filled with chirping birds above his head were taken away by the other two Tridents when they left. The two Iron Warriors were obviously reluctant to let Frex stay here alone to accompany the Primarch, but their attitudes towards this matter were subtly different.

I really don't understand why Pepe chose these two people to form the trident. These two iron warriors almost had "I'm unreliable", "I want to start an office fight, so I'd better kill Frix", "I look down on the other party" and "I have ulterior motives and want to climb up" written on their faces!

Wait, ... maybe that's why he chose these two, and this is consistent with some details he learned later.

Ramizane suddenly realized this, and then sighed even louder.

"My lord?" Fricks was the only person in the room who had not been expelled, but Ramizane knew the expression on the face of the Terran warsmith without even looking: his brows were deeply furrowed, reluctant but unwilling to doubt his father's wishes, and in the end, even if he knew right from wrong in his heart, he would still choose to obey the will of the Primarch rather than the correct answer.

"So, their great migration hasn't happened yet, maybe there's still time..."

He talked to himself, and Fricks hesitated to speak.

Ramizane found that the knowledge he knew began to become an obstacle that put him in a dilemma.

Both ignorance and omniscience are useful. The former makes people fearless, and the latter makes people confident of victory. However, if one only knows a small part of the knowledge, it will lead to the current situation where it is difficult to make judgments based on knowledge.

Indeed, he could now order Dantioch and his 51st Expeditionary Fleet to evacuate the Furpasing Strait and leave the world of Gorkys, but would this cause unnecessary changes?

Or should he choose to change all this now?

He could certainly make everything seem much better now, but as the hint that had been thrown to him said, "a flicker of a butterfly wing."

What should we do if changing the fate of too many key people causes unpredictable deviations in a series of major events that follow?

What if saving this person leads to more deaths in the future that didn't exist originally?

For example, he knew that, despite the danger, and the fact that it aged the Warsmith by at least three thousand years, Barabas Dantioch did not die in the Fulpasian Gorge, but escaped and was sent to guard the remote border world of Lesser Damantyne, where he built Shadenholde (the Fortress of Wounds) and guarded it for 366 days after the Heresy on Guilliman's orders, eventually blowing up an Emperor-class Titan, seizing the invaders' ship and escaping the planet.

If Dantioch had not grown old and been banished there, would the events that followed still have happened? What about Sosa? Who would have discovered the secret of the Pharos Lighthouse? Who could have activated the Pharos to save Guilliman and the Lion? Would Polux have come here as he originally did after the Battle of the Farr?

Also, the Scythe of the Emperor... maybe even the Tyranids...

Although he is inextricably linked to and even crucial to everything that happens later, Barabas Dantioch is now just a war blacksmith in his expeditionary fleet who has not even become a Trident. He is guarding the three connected worlds for him on the world of Gorgis in the Kadomus galaxy, with the aim of exterminating the Hrud entrenched in the underground hive city of the planet here.

At this moment, Ramizarn suddenly realized that he was the only one standing here, and he was the only one who knew the value of Barabas Dantioch to the future of the entire galaxy.

Therefore, his decision will undoubtedly carry part of the weight of "the future of humanity in this galaxy."

Damn it.

He cursed inwardly, could this be a new method used by Old Man Huang to lure people into this trouble?

At the same time, he frowned more tangledly, realizing a question, that is, will he regret every day in the future for any decision he made today? Or not?

Can his mind really withstand the consequences of any significant changes to the world line?

If the sacrifices that were being repeated at this moment in his... in Perturabo's descendants were for the greater good of the future, would he choose to continue to ignore their sacrifices and let everything happen according to destiny?

To others, the Lord of Steel had a frown on his face, as if he was in some trance-like state. The dark cables gnawing at his scalp and skull were like black snakes, disturbingly selecting people to devour.

Then he stood up suddenly, and the iron boots of his power armor stomped fiercely on the steel floor. He paced back and forth, walked around quickly several times, and looked extremely anxious.

"【Expletive】! Damn it! The person in front of you is about to die and you still have so many thoughts! We need to withdraw."

Chief Trident heard his Gene-Father mutter.

"grown ups?"

"Retreat! Fricks!" The first captain suddenly raised his head in a slightly dazed surprise, and met the pair of blue eyes that were burning like flames on a glacier. "Let them all retreat! Fricks! Pass on my order, whether it is Gugan or the Iron Warriors on Gorkys, they are now allowed to begin to retreat in an orderly manner! Order our fleet to prepare to receive the wounded and patients with limited mobility! Logistics department... Logistics department..."

The Primarch strode back to his newly set up desk and flipped through the report that had just been submitted. "Frix! I need you to go down in person to supervise and coordinate the logistics department! Go immediately. If anyone dares to disobey or question this order, let them come to me themselves!"

"Yes, sir."

The Chief Warsmith bowed and began to retreat towards the door, his pace slightly faster than usual by one percent, revealing a hint of impatience after waiting for a long time - it was obvious that in the long-lasting tug-of-war and heavy losses suffered by the Iron Warriors fleet in this sub-sector battle during this period, everyone could see that this battle was slowly but steadily sliding towards an inevitable disastrous end, but no one dared to directly raise this issue and demand that Perturabo admit defeat and give up his claim to victory.

Because the Lord of Iron had already told each of his sons with his words and actions: The Emperor would not make mistakes, and so the conquest order from Terra would not make mistakes either.

"Wait! There's more!"

"Yes, my lord?" The warsmith who had just walked to the door immediately turned around flexibly and half-knelt down, fearing that his master would temporarily change this precious idea that would bring a way of survival to other brothers in the legion, or bring greater destruction because of his stormy and unpredictable emotions.

"When you are doing logistics and personnel planning," the Lord of Steel frowned as he flipped through the information, making Fricks feel distressed for some reason, "you must remember to make plans based on the fact that we will not have enough supplies for a long time... for about the next fifty years."

Chief Trident looked up in astonishment.

"My lord, the existence of the Hrud and their phase-time weapons have indeed brought great pressure to the supply warehouses we set up on the ground, but we still have some in our fleet..."

"That's not the question." Ramizane's dissatisfaction was evident in his words. "I'm asking you, when was the last time we received new power armor and newly manufactured equipment supplies from the Great Crusade Command or Terra or any similar department?"

"It has indeed been a few years, my Lord, but it is still within the acceptable range of transportation time loss..."

"Don't use these nice words to whitewash the situation! Are you treating me like a child?!" It was not known whether it was because of this body, or because the Iron Blood did not yet have the keystone to stabilize its core, or because it was simply due to the pressure of encountering a war as a newcomer, but several documents with the seals of the Military Affairs Department and the Command were emotionally "smacked" in front of Fricks. Thank God, they did not break his knee.

"Look for yourself! At least six months ago, our new recruits who had just completed all the surgeries and brainwashing procedures had only the Mark II Expeditionary Power Armor in our own warehouse to wear! Mark II! Such an old and outdated thing! This thing was invented for the first batch of space battles after the end of the Unification War! I can't believe it! It seems that the spare equipment stored in our warehouse is really rich, so it can last so long! But Mark II! Those Martians! I am sure that they can at least mass-produce Mark VI! But we don't have any relevant supplies! We didn't even receive any list informing us of the distribution situation! Why? Fricks! Why didn't anyone in the Iron Warriors' Trident and the Council of Twelve complain or report this matter to your Primarch?!"

The Warsmith picked up the scattered documents from the ground, a little confused by his anger at the Primarch, which had no reason or connection with him. He then bound them in order with his usual care and meticulousness and began to read them carefully.

Indeed, as the Lord of Iron just pointed out, they had indeed been using old stockpiles to equip their troops for a long time recently, but this was not an uncommon situation on the expedition, especially in the desolate and remote war zone where they were currently located, far away from normal supply lines. The Fourth Legion was already accustomed to operating and fighting normally under such pressure.

Fricks was still thinking about how to explain this situation to the Primarch. He tried to speak, "My Lord, I understand your anger, but this situation may be just due to some negligence or simple problems on the road during the expedition. We can still win without these supplies. By then..."

"If the resources provided by those who ask us to fight cannot support our actions, then there is no reason for us to empty our own home world to make up for the shortfall first." A string of treasonous words that could never come out of Perturabo's mouth flowed smoothly from those cold lips. "I have no interest in making up for the shortfall of Commissioner Smith, especially considering the current situation... definitely... there are some things my brothers are messing with in this matter. Humph! Victory!"

The Lord of Steel's sharp ice-blue eyes stared from the black and silver cables at Fricks, who was already stunned and wanted to cover his ears.

"Who gave the order to attack this place? Who did we win the final victory for? Was it for me? Did I have nothing better to do and nothing better to do than to come to this remote northernmost borderland and fight a group of aliens who didn't bother us in the first place? Since I didn't win for my own selfish desires, what's the point of this victory if I kill all the Olympians for this kind of victory? People are not like leeks growing in the fields! If they die, can they be resurrected for me?!"

"But...but my lord...victory is for...the honor of the Emperor, you and the Legion..." The First Captain was completely stunned. He looked at him with eyes as if he was recognizing his Primarch for the first time, and made a stammering defense weakly under the pressure of the high fighting spirit and willful charm that unconsciously emanated from those ice-blue eyes.

"Bullshit honor. Don't think I don't know that few people are willing to compose poems, tell stories, or paint for our legion at this time." Ramizarn, who was very clear about this matter, mercilessly tore off the fig leaf that the poor captain of the first company had covered for himself and his peers. "In this case, on the other hand, neither you nor I have any idol baggage to carry."

What is idol burden? Fricks blinked in confusion and secretly recorded this new word and the so-called leeks and the so-called bird shit in the original body's quotations in his mind.

"In short." After the thunderstorm, the Iron Lord sat back on his throne, and seemed to adjust his sitting position because he was not very comfortable. "First, withdraw all the people and tell them to retreat in an orderly manner. If the Hruds chase you, fight back. If they don't care about retreating, don't provoke a fight! Then you will handle the logistics and medical reception. - If your two colleagues still want to continue to get in the way."

The Primarch told Fricks, a grim expression on his pale face, "Then you will nominate two more."

When the War Blacksmith left, he finally breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the familiar face and tone again.