Warhammer: Start with a dog.

Chapter 779 Societies and Strange Problems
Loken followed Asimand into the final meeting room, filled with anxious anticipation and knowing fear.

Like the winding passageway, this cabin was not lit by electric current, perhaps for the sake of secrecy, or perhaps for the sake of ceremony, or both.

The room contained no furniture or other decorations, except for a plain iron bucket serving as a hearth in the center.

The crackling flames illuminated the figures around them, dressed in simple robes and with their faces covered by hoods.

The primal, secret atmosphere was secondary; what shocked and disappointed Loken was that what the Primarchs had told him was once again confirmed: these people all had a similar height and build to him.

Without a doubt, this is indeed a secret organization composed entirely of Astartes members.

So, the only question for him now is: Who are they?
These hooded figures remained silent, letting the flames cast long, swaying shadows on the wall behind them, as they quietly watched Asimand lead Loken into their midst.

Only when they reached the edge of the flames did one of them step forward and ask a question.

"Who is coming?"

"A lost soul."

Why have you come here?

"For the sake of brotherhood."

"Can you vouch for a stranger?"

“I will vouch for him.”

"Then we shall welcome our new brother."

The man took a step back and reached out to remove his hood.

Loken let out a groan-like sigh.

The firelight illuminated the face of Therhal Targost, the seventh company commander of the Shadowmoon Wolves.

As Targost revealed his true form, the others also pulled down their hoods.

Loken looked around the fire, his face illuminated by the dim orange-red light, almost helplessly.

They looked so familiar, yet so strange.

Tarik Togarden, Luke Seredy, Nairo Vipas… he even saw other members of his 10th Company, and almost all of his most familiar company commanders were there.

In an instant, he felt an unnamed, bone-chilling cold spread down his back: If the War General and the Lord of Iron hadn't informed him beforehand... so he was the only one who had been kept in the dark all along?

That means...

“Zavoy Jubo is also…” he asked with difficulty, but it was a statement.

“Poor Jubo was indeed a member of our society.” Togarden nodded. “We’ve heard about his unfortunate fate in the 63-19 mountains from Nairo Vipas. We are all deeply saddened by the great loss to your company, Gavial.”

Loken stared intently at his adjutant, while Vepas's eyes darted away a few times before he turned his head slightly to the side.

“You shouldn’t blame Nairo, Gavial,” Asimand approached, trying to ease the tension for Vepas. “Here, there are no superiors or subordinates, officers or soldiers, only brotherhood. We can set aside the barriers between power classes, say things we wouldn’t normally say, and have heart-to-heart talks. You see, that’s the meaning of the association. It’s not the evil thing you imagine; it just allows us to speak freely and relax. It doesn’t pose any threat or problem.”

The words of the Lord of Steel echoed in Loken's ears: Listen, Loken, whatever the initial intentions of warrior associations, they will eventually develop into "invisible power" lurking in the shadows. It may seem to enhance the cohesion of the legion, but in reality, it weakens the commander's command power—in other words, it will erode the three cornerstones upon which classical legions rely for operation: 'absolute authority and trustworthiness of the chain of command,' 'unshakeable discipline,' and 'uniqueness of collective identity'... I bet no one put this into your brainwashing surgery, and a civil servant like Sindman who has never been on the battlefield would never have thought to teach you this... But I think if someone reminds you, you will understand its true meaning.

Damn it. He thought, now I understand what he means. That's definitely one of the problems. Things that should never be revealed in a secret society, things that shouldn't be revealed in a normal chain of command, become things that everyone can hear, but I, the person in question, was foolish enough to think that the secrecy was still under control!

Perhaps because he had been silent for too long, the Astartes in the shadows began to stir slightly.

Togarden and Asimand exchanged a glance, then stepped forward and pulled Locken into the crowd.

"Come and drink, chat, laugh, and talk with us, Gavial. You'll soon understand that there is nothing here, no evil, no proselytizing, no conspiracies, only warm brotherhood."

Loken didn't speak, but he neither resisted nor refused. In the end, he nodded and took a place among the company commanders.

So the others gradually relaxed and did what they usually do when they gather.

Luke Seredi brought out a strong drink he had scavenged somewhere on the lower deck, the recipe of which was said to give even the Astartes a tipsy buzz.

After a few drinks, Nairo Vepas mustered up his courage and approached Loken. "I'm sorry... Captain, I... I had to keep the society a secret, so I can't say. I can't tell you."

Damn it. Loken thought to himself, another case of prioritizing the Society over the Commander level. He frowned, about to speak, when he suddenly felt someone touch his throat.

He had almost forgotten about this uninvited guest who had remained hidden. At the same time, a chill ran down his spine as he realized that the current scene was undoubtedly being observed by a Primarch.

“You shouldn’t call him company commander, Naro. You should call him Gavial. You can talk to him about anything now. See, now he understands your predicament. You didn’t do it on purpose, right?”

Togarden, who had already downed a few drinks, now smiled and, smelling of chemicals, put his arm around Loken's shoulder, affectionately pulling him close and turning his blond head toward Vipas.

“You should tell him, ‘Gavial, I have something to explain to you! This isn’t the deck,’ my God, Loken, are you usually this harsh with your men? Look at poor Nairo.”

“Ah, yes, yes, Gavial, I didn’t mean to deceive you! My answer was actually as close to the truth as possible…”

It's hard for me to say.

“...I’ve just been expressing my wish that no one in the company participates in the association, Togarden. And Nairo... well, I won’t pursue this against you today, you can rest assured.”

His adjutant gratefully raised his glass in respect, and after they drank another glass, Vepas slipped into the crowd to talk to the others.

"Look? Now Vipas has no reservations about you, and you can trust your adjutant more, right? That's why we invited you here. This is not a place where filth is hidden. Letting you see the Society for yourself is more convincing than anything else."

Indeed. Loken thought to himself, it seemed so.

But I already trusted Vipas a lot, and now your actions have given it the aura of a society. He will feel that the society helped him gain my trust, rather than that I, as his superior, trusted him from the beginning.

But he still didn't say it aloud—the touch on his throat returned, and Loken suddenly realized that this might be some kind of pre-training from the Iron Lord for his future work as a ranger knight.

At the same time, he felt deeply saddened: this chain of interconnectedness and endless mutual probing within the inner ring was of no benefit to the future of the legion, but would only increase each other's insecurity and distrust.

They then laughed, feasted, and made crude jokes, without any training or strict military discipline, relaxed and happy. The entire gathering ended before dawn.

Loken bid farewell to Asimand and returned to his room alone.

He had just closed the door and was rubbing his temples wearily when he noticed a seemingly ordinary person suddenly appearing in the room.

The other person was yawning and looked extremely tired.

A question suddenly popped into Loken's mind: Can the Primarch really feel tired and sleepy?

"Alright, it's finally over. How are you feeling now?"

"That's what they asked."

“I think…” Loken carefully chose his words, “The problems that the War Master and you told me about do exist, but the Warriors' Association…”

"Ok?"

"At least there aren't any major problems today... Everyone is friendly, and no one shows any signs of contamination... Does this mean we still have a chance? The future has been slightly altered..."

A pleading, almost prayerful light appeared in Loken's blue eyes. "...Does that mean things are moving in a positive direction?"

"Hmm...do you think so?"

"I wish you would enlighten me."

“Ah.” The other person laughed. “Then I have to go back and get some sleep. I’m not as energetic as you young people. After I get up, let’s go visit our friends who are chroniclers. I think they have a good story you should hear.”

---------

Just as the Lord of Steel had promised, after dinner that day they went together to the cabin area where the narrators lived.

They passed Euphrates's room, the door of which was tightly shut, and at the other end, Messati's room was also closed, with only a sliver of light seemingly shining through the door of Ignas Calcaci's room.

They pushed open the door and entered. The lights were on, and Oriton was talking to the poet about something. The small desk was covered with papers, drafts, ink bottles, and a data board. There were also many bottles of wine between the two of them—it was clear that Ignas was the one drinking. Loken found himself relieved.

"Hmm... what about Euphrates?"

"She's still a bit unsettled lately, I suppose. After all, the things that happened at the bottom of Whispering Mountains aren't exactly pleasant memories, and she can't retrieve them like I could. Also, I'm very grateful to you for helping me retrieve the contents of my memory; I really don't want those records to remain in my head for even a second longer."

"It was nothing... So she has visitors now? I guess?"

The poet looked up and made a not-so-happy grumble amidst the smell of alcohol, while Messati, after pinching him hard, considerately translated, "Hmm... a handsome naval officer, suffices."

"Oh. It's alright, I didn't come here to see her anyway." The Lord of Steel waved his hand, gesturing for Loken to find a seat, making the ordinary cabin seem even cramped.

"So, you've graced my humble abode with your presence, perhaps because...?"

Ignas was jolted back to his senses by his friend's pinch, and when he saw those blue eyes clearly, he immediately straightened his back.

"I'm sorry, I didn't recognize you just now, sir."

The Lord of Iron suddenly laughed, and no one knew why.

But after he finished laughing, he asked Ignatius a very abrupt question.

"Sometime before you began your campaign against the 63-19s, did you have a chronicler friend who died?"

The poet blinked. "Huh?"

The Lord of Steel patiently repeated the question.

“Ah…you mean this…that’s true, I almost forgot myself. My God, poor man, he’d been on this ship for ages, he even had his own workshop. He only joined the narrators’ team after we arrived, and we haven’t been friends for that long…so I didn’t think of him at first when you mentioned it. He’s the only narrator who died before 63-19.”

"He even has his own private workshop for Soul of Vengeance?" Messadi asked curiously. "Is he a mortal?"

"Yes, although he was a mortal, I estimate that he had been on the Vengeful Spirit for at least a century, and he must have had enough money and resources to undergo rejuvenation surgery."

“More than a century!” Messadi exclaimed. “Doesn’t that mean he traveled to many worlds with the fleet? It’s such a pity that such a person died. He could have greatly enriched our records, and his connections would have been very helpful!”

"Who can argue with that? Anyway, I was quite sad when he suddenly died, because at that time I was counting on him to introduce me to the company commanders."

Loken glanced at the Iron Lord's avatar; the blue-eyed man was indeed smiling.

"So, Ignas, do you remember what he did?"

“He was a jeweler—or rather, a goldsmith, very skilled. He served officers and Astartes. I remember his orders were mostly for boxes containing oaths of war and reliquary boxes.”

“The term ‘relic box’ is a bit old-fashioned and outdated, Ignatius,” Messadi said.

“I can’t find a more suitable word, but that’s how he mentioned them, and they are indeed as exquisite as they literally are.”

“Tell us how he died, Ignas,” the Primarch demanded.

The poet swallowed hard, his gaze drifting into the distance, clearly beginning to frantically search his memory for relevant information.

“Or,” Ramizam added, “tell us who found him dead? Who informed you of his death?”

"Oh, the person who found his body... has actually already passed away."

An extremely ominous feeling rose in Loken's stomach as he heard the Lord of Steel continue to question him.

"So who is this person? The one who found the body of your former new friend?"

"It was Hastal Cyyanus, my lord. The one who discovered his body and spread the news of his death was the late Lord Cyyanus, who, as everyone knows, died not long after in the 63-19 world."

(End of this chapter)