Warhammer: The 11th Primarch - The Black Emperor

Nareth and his team followed closely behind Campbell as green wheat fields blurred past on either side.

Serfs and servitors were laboring in the fields. Upon feeling the tremors in the ground and hearing the roar of the Knight suits, they turned their heads, paused their work, and performed the local Daxosian salutation.

With the corners of their eyes, they also glanced at the black-armored warriors marching in perfect formation, like a single entity.

Blade Peak, the fortress and ancestral seat of House Vextrix, loomed atop the towering Mount Tarec, its peak piercing the clouds.

At the mountain's base were sixteen castles, homes of the lesser Knight houses who pledged fealty to House Vextrix.

Steep cliffs offered natural defenses. A complex network of interlinked keeps and bastions lay hidden in the mountain's folds.

"This is a fortress," Bucay Arshavin murmured in Vostroya's tongue, his obsidian eyes scanning the terrain with vigilance.

"For a unified regime, this kind of defense seems... excessive."

The Primarch discerned the reason before his sons. His deep gaze fell on the ground as he spoke:

"The marks on these stone slabs, not all were left by Knight suits. There are other traces."

His warriors turned their attention to the marble pavement.

Over untold years, Knight suits, grain haulers, and servitors had traversed these grounds, leaving their marks and erasing older ones. The patterns etched into the stone resembled the chaotic scribbles of a careless child.

Arsena relied on his psychic awareness, Gabriel on analytical logic, and Bukayo on intuition.

After seconds of assessment, each offered their conclusion:

"Residual aetheric energy," the silver-haired psyker noted, sensing the warp's lingering touch.

"Massive biological footprints," the Techmarine reconstructed oval-shaped impressions from the mess.

"There's something else..." The Nightmare's instincts prickled at anomalies he couldn't quite define.

Nareth nodded, each had revealed a part of the truth.

'Beyonder creatures like the Black Dream Cat, enormous and wielding psychic power.'

While they spoke, Campbell had walked to the mountain's foot and stood before a golden gate. He did not ascend the peak.

Raising his right hand, he pressed it to a disc at the gate's center and declared in Daxosian:

"I, Campbell Vextrix, Knight King of Daxos, command the gates of the Knight Armory to open."

Runes flared along his mechanized throne, first his gauntlets, then the gate's disk.

With a rumble, the massive doors parted, revealing a wide passage, large enough for two Knight suits to walk side by side.

As they opened, lumen lamps flickered on inside, lighting up the marble corridor.

The Daxos Gloria turned toward Nareth and spoke:

"Only a few may enter. The Hall of Knight Suits is sacred ground."

"Understood," Nareth replied.

He entered with Arsena, Bukayo, and Gabriel. Campbell retained only four Knights.

The group descended until they reached a wide platform.

Gabriel, upon stepping down, was immediately captivated, green Knight suits hung from a silver-gray circular repair rig surrounding the chamber.

In the platform's center, two green Knights were suspended by overhead rails, clearly the machines selected for the contest.

The Techmarine Sergeant began an evaluation:

'Preliminary assessment: both suits moderately damaged. Left unit, right arm and left leg damaged. Right unit, left arm and right leg damaged. Damage levels: roughly equal.'

As Gabriel examined, Campbell called out:

"Sol!"

A mechanical arm brought forth a man from the repair deck. His robe was half Vextrix green, half Martian red.

Gabriel eyed the relic-maintainer and immediately recognized the layers of optical lenses on Sol's mask, and the extensive cybernetics covering most of his body.

Sol briefly glanced at the visitors, and when he saw Nareth's towering form, he visibly flinched.

In his logical mind, a human of such stature simply couldn't exist.

Adhering to noble customs, he resisted scanning Nareth with his augmetic eye and stifled his curiosity.

He then turned to study the Techmarine, analyzing his opponent cautiously.

Campbell opened his cockpit and turned to Nareth.

"On the way here, I considered how to fairly judge this duel of honor."

"We should remove subjective judgment, evaluate by objective, measurable standards."

"Sol has prepared two equally damaged Knight suits for this."

Nareth took a single glance, already registering all their damage in detail: 'Weapon systems on both arms, mobility systems in the legs.'

He nodded. At the very least, the opponent still upheld knightly fairness in this regard.

"I propose three evaluation metrics to decide the outcome," Campbell continued.

"First, repair time. The faster one completes repairs wins the first category."

"Second, sustained operating time of the Knight post-repair."

"Third, weapon system performance, both tested by knight-apprentices on the training field."

As Campbell spoke, more than a dozen apprentices of the relic-maintainer descended from their workstations, curiously listening.

They used translators and deduction to piece together the rules.

One apprentice with a mechanical right arm turned to a senior student with mechanical tendrils implanted in his back and asked in Daxosian:

"Ginora, Master Sol's going to compete with that outsider? He's huge… Can Sol win?"

"Idiot, it's a contest of Knight repairs, not combat," the elder apprentice replied.

"Master Sol will definitely win. Even if that outsider is as skilled as a relic-maintainer, he doesn't know our Knights like Master does; he's lived his whole life here."

By now, Nareth had decoded the basics of the Daxosian language and understood their conversation.

Still, he trusted Gabriel and nodded slightly.

"Agreed."

Seeing Nareth raise no objections, Campbell felt triumph already within reach.

"A banquet has been prepared in your honor. Come."

"Very well."

The group departed, leaving Gabriel and Sol to begin repairs on the Knight suits.

After a lavish feast, Nareth excused himself, claiming he needed to return to the ship for matters of governance.

Upon returning to his flagship, he summoned Tierney to the command throne.

Nareth had handpicked 250 soldiers from failed modification candidates, those with sharp reflexes, calm minds, and psychological resilience, to form a scout platoon.

Tierney came from Naryanmar Hive in Vostroya's far north. He had passed the first 15 gene surgeries but was eliminated after a violent rejection reaction during Mucranoid implantation.

Soon after, Tierney appeared before the throne, clad in yellow-green camo from the Vostroyan arms factory.

He knelt on one knee.

"My Monarch!"

"Rise," Nareth said, tapping the chair arm. "I have a task for you."

"Your scout platoon is to infiltrate Daxos and gather intel."

"Focus on any recent attacks from large native beasts."

"As you command, my king."

Tierney saluted and led the platoon aboard an aircraft. They landed on Daxos Alpha and began reconnaissance.

Meanwhile, as Gabriel meticulously analyzed the Knight suits, far away in the Triken System, southeast of Vostroya.

The Chapter Master of the 7th Chapter, The 'Hunter' Sanchez, swiped his finger across a data slate.

"Those Aeldari of the frontier worlds… should be taking the bait by now."

.....

If you enjoy the story, my p@treon is 30 chapters ahead.

[email protected]/DaoistJinzu