40k: Midnight Blade.

Chapter 834. Original Casting Technology (Part 5)

Belisarius Caul arrived at Chermos in less than six days, bringing his ship, his son, and most of his possessions—it could be said that, aside from the two laboratories on Mars and Sousa, the Great Sage had brought everything he could possibly need.
Judging from his posture alone, an uninformed person might think he was going to fight someone to the death, but the reality is quite different. However, Kaul probably did indeed want to fight someone to the death.

Unfortunately, that person was already dead.

"Outrageous! Utterly outrageous!" the Great Sage roared through gritted teeth, clutching an old data tablet. "How dare he edit human genes in such a heretical way?"

Upon hearing this, Kalil and Fogrem, who were standing to the side, exchanged a knowing glance.

The fourth person present, Anazion Sosa Kaur, wore a very strange expression. His odd pale purple lips twitched twice, but he managed to hold back and said nothing.

The Great Sage himself was completely unaware of this. He continued to rapidly flip through the data panel, while vehemently criticizing how inferior and primitive the technology used by Fabius Bayer was, not even willing to let go of the data panel in his hand.

He said it "nobody would buy it at the flea market," "it doesn't even have a fast browsing interface," and "who would use such outdated technology?"
This long-winded speech, filled with sarcasm and reluctant praise, lasted for almost twenty minutes before finally coming to an end.

The Great Sage snorted and put the data board back in its place. Then, he awkwardly turned around among the equipment and cables, squeezed his way to the empty culture tanks, and began to check their interactive panels one by one, still grumbling in dissatisfaction, just like a child who had broken his favorite toy.

Anazion Sosa Kaur finally shook his head.

He approached the judges and the Primarch, bowed deeply to them, and began to apologize on behalf of his creator, a process performed with great skill.

Khalil couldn't help but laugh, and he asked half-jokingly, "Over the years, you've probably handled quite a few similar matters for Caul."

Shouzhu nodded expressionlessly.

“He used to allocate some computing power to these things, but after I helped him with them the first time, he never paid attention to them again.”

Upon hearing this, Fugrim glanced sideways at the chariot monster not far away, and then offered some earnest advice.

“You can’t always give in to him like this, Anazion. Kaul is a good man with an eccentric personality, but most people only see the first part, the unpleasant aspects of him. If you always handle these things for him, it will only make him more unreasonable.”

Shouzhu lowered his head and remained silent.

Forgrim sighed, patted him on the shoulder, and stopped there, saying no more.

He probably wanted to say something more. Ever since the incident with Chemos ended, he had been paying close attention to Firstcastle, even gifting him two weapons in his own name, and making special trips to see him several times when he returned to Terra for meetings.

Since then, Shouzhu has frequently handled numerous issues for Kaul, from weapons orders to reprimands from some of Kaul's colleagues, responding to each one personally. He only intervenes in these matters himself when Kaul has made significant progress in his research and is in a particularly good mood.
This is precisely where Forgrim's criticism lies.

He simply couldn't understand what was so difficult for Caul about spending a few seconds writing an auto-responder program. Why did he have to dump all that work on Anazyon?
Khalil didn't understand either, but he thought it was probably an extension of Caul's terrible parenting philosophy.

He decided to ignore it for the time being, unless things didn't improve after Caul finished his work and freed up the occupied computing power. In that case, he would have to go back into the Great Sage's head to see if his terrible upbringing had been privately guided by some wise ruler.

"What recent progress has his research made?" Khalil asked, changing the subject.

However, this statement was not entirely driven by social needs. As is well known, Belisarius Caul suffered from severe schizophrenia; at times he possessed extremely high emotional intelligence, while at other times he acted like the most arrogant scoundrel in the world.

Furthermore, when he is fully immersed in a research project, his probability of becoming the latter increases significantly. When he's in this state, don't expect him to proactively report any progress.
Kaul wouldn't reveal any information until he had produced a result that would shock everyone. In his words, this was called maintaining surprise and mystery.

That's why Caril had the idea of ​​sneaking into Caul's lab to see what he was up to more than once.

But the Grand Inquisitor was extremely busy, constantly shuttling between the courtroom and the Ministry of Justice, and occasionally having to take time to return to the vicinity of Nostramore to review the newly enlisted recruits. He wished he could disassemble the standard twenty-four Terras and use them all, and had completely lost the leisure to do this slightly prank-like thing.

If La Endymion had the time, he would have been happy to step in for him, but unfortunately the tribunes were also too busy lately. Caril did not know what kind of secret mission the guards were carrying out, although he could get the answer by asking one question, but he was no longer the inexperienced novice.

Now, he is experienced and has learned certain rules that are not written down.
For example, if you don't ask, it means you don't have it.

Yes, if you don't ask, it means there's nothing. But if you ask and become an insider, then you'll have to write several more reports that he himself will review and stamp.

"Not much progress, sir." Anazion looked up, his expression somewhat helpless. "Every night I can hear him smashing things in the lab, and yelling and arguing with that undead."

Kalil frowned, and Forgrim nearly burst out laughing. Not far away, Caul's voice drifted over.

“We were having a formal academic exchange,” he said. “The words may have been a bit harsh, but there was absolutely no intention to insult.”

After he finished speaking, he turned around with a rumble, and the chariot started moving again, carrying him, shaking his head and sighing, to the three of them. Khalil had no choice but to give him a glare with a smile before Caul finally stopped his long sighs and began to speak in a completely listless tone.

"Well, I must admit that Fabius Bayer is indeed quite accomplished in the field of biology, no less so than I am."

He paused, then suddenly raised his voice.

"But! He made a mistake! A huge, ridiculous, fatal mistake!"

Suppressing a certain impulse, Forgrim asked in a cautious and calm tone, "What mistake?"

"He altered the Emperor's design!"

Kaul suddenly roared, then immediately began waving his arms, adopting a speech-like posture.

"The Thunder Warriors were his initial conceptions of 'tools' and 'protectors,' abandoned due to their obvious flaws, but Astartes was by no means perfect either. He once explicitly told me that Astartes was merely a compromise for his vision of the next stage, which fully demonstrates Amal Astartes' limited talent. I respect this great scholar, but her knowledge and talent are but a firefly's glow compared to the Emperor's—"

Seeing that he was about to launch into a long monologue, Khalil quickly tried to steer the conversation. He was genuinely worried; based on experience, if Caul were allowed to continue rambling on, he might go on for hours before getting to the point. "—So, you're saying that Fabius Bayer and you have taken two different paths in the future development of Astartes?"

“Different? No, no, sir, completely opposite, completely opposite!” Caul cried, covering his head with his hand. “If what I’m seeking is stability and sustainability, then this damned traitor is dancing on a knife’s edge!”

"He's a complete madman! Do you know what he did? He dismantled and rewrote the entire Astartes modification procedure from scratch, according to his own ideas! Admittedly, modification surgery is very common within the Empire, but he..."

Carril had to interrupt him again: "Stop, Caul, let's leave these technical issues for later. You can write a detailed report or even a paper later to explain these differences. For now, you just need to tell me one thing."

Kaul looked at him with a wronged expression—it was truly worrying for his eyes that the Great Sage could make such an expression on his swollen, pale, and old face.

Khalil took a deep breath: "You just need to tell me, is Bayer's research useful to you at all?"

Kaul remained silent for a full minute before giving his answer, his voice hoarse as if half a rusty gear was stuck in his throat: "...Yes."

“Very good, thank you.” Khalil breathed a sigh of relief. “So, will this research allow you to take your research to a new stage?”

Kaul frowned, thought intently for a moment, and then nodded seriously.

"Yes, the experimental data he left behind is very valuable. Although I need to verify their reliability one by one, it's better for two blind men to feel their way across the river than for one."

"Okay, what kind of help do you need?"

This time, Caul answered much faster.

"I need a lot of supplies, experiments—no, volunteers, and energy support. I also need the Primarchs to provide some of their blood, as well as the various founding groups and their subgroups. Blood samples from every stage of service, from recruits and core members to battle veterans, cannot be missed. And those subgroups with more severe gene seed mutations not only need to provide blood samples, but also need to send some combat brothers."

He paused briefly, and at the same moment, his naked eye and prosthetic eye burst forth with a terrifying light, and the engine that had replaced his heart began to rumble faintly in the next second.

Anazion looked up at his creator, and through their extraordinary familiarity, he discovered that Belisarius Caul's primary emotion at that moment was not excitement or joy, but a strange sense of peace.

It felt as if a heavy burden had been lifted.

The thought flashed through his mind, but Kaul had already looked over. He bent down, raised his hands, placed them on Anazyon's shoulders, and smiled with deep emotion.

“Kaul?” Shouzhu looked at him.

“It’s alright, son,” the Great Sage said with a smile. “I’ll probably be able to get a good night’s sleep tonight.”

This was the first time he had called him that, and Anatolian was just puzzled.

In his memory, Belisarius Caul never engaged in any human-like sleep activity.
-
The projector's distinctive blue light flickered continuously, and the faces of all the Primarchs currently existing in the Imperium hovered nearby. They listened intently until Khalil had finished recounting Caul's findings and demands before expressing their own opinions.

“I’ll sign the documents now,” Robert Guilliman began. “As for the volunteers, how about I assign an outstanding individual to lead them?”

“Too much fanfare, too extravagant,” Peturabo said coldly. “Let’s do it Belisarius Caul’s own way: the blood of new recruits, sergeants, veterans, and some volunteers.”

Guilliman was not angered by his tone. Instead, he pondered for a while and finally nodded in agreement.

The other Primarchs followed suit, expressing their opinions and surprisingly all voting in favor. Finally, Saint Gilles slowly spoke.

“I will step in and contact them,” he said in a low voice, then turned off the projector.

He didn't explicitly say who they were, but those present didn't need him to name them in any real sense; they were all eyewitnesses.

The Primarchs remained silent for a moment, then began to bid farewell, the blue light fading one by one. The last to leave was Lor'ga Aurelion.

"Thank you," he said sincerely to Khalil and the shadow standing behind him.

The last glimmer of light also faded away.

Khalil turned to look at Conrad Coates, who was smiling at him with his hands behind his back.

"What are you laughing at?" the Grand Inquisitor asked, feigning authority.

The Lord of the Night shrugged, extended his right hand in front of him, and sighed with a hint of complaint: "Kaul said he'd have to draw blood, but how are you going to draw my blood?"

"The same goes for those who smoke Yago."

Upon hearing this, the Primarch of the Eighth Legion suddenly frowned: "Then why don't we take yours?"

Khalil chuckled and shook his head: "I'm afraid I don't have that much blood to draw from him."

"Is that so? I can't blame you, after all, your blood was drained ten thousand years ago." Koz said nonchalantly.

Kalil wisely chose to remain silent at this moment, but the Lord of the Night clearly did not intend to let him off so easily today.

“Oh, right, I suddenly remembered, Corius Corax seems to still be alive, Father,” he said quietly.

(End of this chapter)