Warhammer: Beginning with Planetary Governors

Chapter 641 Savior: What are you all standing there for? Come over to your godfather!

"Excuse me for being blunt, but what you just said was like a clumsy and uninteresting joke."

You possess only the extravagance and ignorance of aristocracy.

Peturabo looked at the savior's violently ostentatious armor and shook his head with a cold smile.

He could tell from the armor the other person was wearing that this guy didn't understand the beauty of mathematics or art.

"Your taste is even worse than that pathetic pseudo-emperor."

A hint of disdain flashed across Peturabo's eyes: "All you know is how to adorn yourself with expensive, rare relics and paint everything in a dazzling gold."

Utterly vulgar and ugly!

Ron shook his head, not particularly angry, and explained earnestly:
“I call this pragmatism; you simply don’t understand the value of doing this.”

Judging a problem solely by its appearance is a serious mistake.

As the savior and emperor of the empire, he naturally had to be dazzling with gold, and gold was the most eye-catching element.

Moreover, his persona is that of a wealthy emperor; how else could he demonstrate his power if he didn't acquire all sorts of fine things to wear from head to toe?

Only in this way can the empire's soldiers and people feel at ease!

The old empire was too impoverished, with many warriors passing down the same suit of armor for three generations. Only by letting them see and personally experience the wealth of the savior could they bring more hope.

Let those warriors know: Fight alongside the Savior, and you will have everything you need.

Perhaps after the empire is restored and prospered, I can change my style, indulge in some high art, and then focus on civilization and economic development.

As for now, with lives hanging in the balance, there's no question of civilization.

Peturab sheathed his rapier, adopting the air of a scholar.

"Don't bother explaining to me. You only have a mid-level education at Loyal Succession Academy, not even comparable to the most ordinary scholar."
In this situation, any explanation is meaningless.

This Lord of Steel is almost the most learned being in the galaxy; even in Holy Terra, he could be considered a top-ranking human scholar.

His knowledge spans multiple fields, making him more than qualified to be the dean of the Loyal Succession Academy.

The Honorary Dean, the Savior, had a secondary education, which, in the Empire's knowledge hierarchy, was roughly equivalent to a junior college degree.

"Hiss~
I can't believe this guy is so academically discriminatory! I'm an honorary dean, after all; can't he even give me this much face?

Ron took a slight breath, and he began to understand why the other Primarchs disliked him.

That guy probably looks down on people; almost no one in the Primarch is more knowledgeable than him.

From a certain perspective, I should be the Primarch with the lowest level of knowledge, at most a little better than Leon.

He had so little talent, and he put all of it into faith and charisma. Even his combat skills were an enhancement of the power of faith.

Of course, if one were truly determined to invest the time, with the Primarch's intellect, becoming a High Scholar wouldn't be a problem, but it's not worth it.

Instead of wasting time on that, it would be better to retrieve some technological relics from the Warp, or allocate more funds to build schools within the Empire's territory.

To cultivate talent for the empire.

In reality, Ron deliberately used an alias to reveal his level of knowledge to Peturabo on the Spirit Network.

This would lower his guard and make him agree to this unusual bet.

Otherwise, with the other party's unregistered Lingwang account, it would be impossible to investigate such secrets.

That was considered a relatively high-level secret within the empire.

"Since this contest is about knowledge, let's compare knowledge related to art."

Ideally, I'd like knowledge of art from the ancient Terra period; that's my forte.

Ron stopped arguing with that stubborn guy and went straight to proposing the rules of the duel.

Then the relevant files are transferred to the other party.

This special duel, or rather, bet, was a best-of-three match, and I lost the swordsmanship round.

I must win the next two games, otherwise I will suffer a huge loss.

"Okay, let's compare our knowledge in the field of art."

Unfortunately, your defeat is inevitable. Perhaps you can hand over the spoils to me ahead of time.

Upon hearing this, Peturabo couldn't help but smile; knowledge of ancient Terran art was one of his strengths.

He can be considered one of the most learned figures in ancient Terran studies.

He explored many fields of art, and even spent a long time searching for and learning about the works and knowledge of the ancient Terran artist Leonardo da Vinci.

It existed tens of thousands of years ago, leaving behind only faint traces, yet it is exceptionally fascinating.

"Let me go first."

Among my collection is a work by an ancient Terran artist.

To appreciate that artwork, you only need to mention the artist and the name of the painting.

Peturabo said this.

He was quite pleased with himself and went to his treasure vault to retrieve the extremely precious work.

Wherever he goes, this Lord of Steel will place his treasure trove on his flagship or fortress.

So that he would have time to appreciate art, which would allow him to escape the war and find a moment of peace.

After Peturabo finished speaking, he headed to the vault with great interest, quite enjoying this mode of duel.

"Sigh, this feels so familiar, like the classic treasure-guessing game."

Anyone who didn't know better would think I'd traveled back to ancient times, pretending to be weak while actually being strong, to solve a problem posed by an enemy country that no one else could understand...

Ron was somewhat moved.

These rules were actually created by him, which is why they felt so familiar; it was almost like we were about to have a poetry contest.

It's a pity this isn't very popular in the Empire, otherwise we could have shown off a bit.

Ron watched Peturabo's departing figure and waited quietly.

He was very knowledgeable about ancient Terran art because his Primarch-level mind had unearthed almost all the memories of his past lives.

For the scholars of the Empire, the history of ancient Terra was a secret from tens of thousands of years ago, but it was new to them.

However, this does not guarantee victory.

If Peturabo had acquired works by unusual or niche artists, he wouldn't have been able to guess.

He was still a little worried.

"The great works left by that artist are not even recorded in the Holy Terra Library."

Even with the help of the mechanical goddess and prior preparations, the savior still couldn't know the answer!

Not long after, Peturabo returned, brimming with confidence.

The transport machinery behind him was carrying a large rock protected by a shield force field and a stasis force field.

More accurately, it was an ancient mural, which had become worn and faded over time.

However, the content of the murals can still be vaguely seen.

However, as soon as Peturabo returned to the hall, he heard the sound of music, ding ding ding!
That short, stirring melody was so captivating.

In an instant, the entire hall fell silent.

They all looked toward the giant pipe organ in the corner of the hall, whose sound was so sacred.

It was a relic of a certain mechanical cathedral, absorbed by the activated Chaos Factory and becoming part of the hall.

Occasionally, the Lord of Steel will have the Hell Musician play the organ so that he can enjoy the music he likes.

Now, the one playing with such abandon is the savior, just like an artist lost in the moment.

Ron seized the opportunity to cultivate his persona again; he never misses a chance to be flamboyant.

It was through these opportunistic displays that the empire gradually built up its image and authority among its citizens.

Now, he wants to leave an impression of himself as a cultured person in front of the Lord of Steel and the Steel Warriors.

This will facilitate subsequent communication.

After all, these guys are one of the more important cultural groups in the galaxy, and it would be difficult to communicate with them without breaking in.

Like their genetic father, the Iron Warriors have different faces. On the battlefield, they are a frenzied storm, but in private, they have a clear mind and know how to appreciate art.

This may be the effect of the original on genetic offspring.

As the savior played, the melody grew increasingly soaring, reaching its climax.

"Is this fate? Unyielding, resistance, and the joy of victory..."

Peturabo stood there, stunned. He had a good ear for music and could hear the emotions contained in the music.

This stirred up many memories in him, reminding him of himself before his downfall.

He succumbed to fate and ended up in his current state, which is undeniably ironic.

"This piece is called the Symphony No. 5, by the ancient Terran musician Beethoven. You may have heard of him before."

I know you appreciate this kind of music, and I, as the performer, am honored.

After Ron finished the last note, he stood up and bowed slightly to the audience.

Then he briefly introduced the piece of music he had just played to everyone.

He single-handedly put on his own show in this chaotic place, as if he were the master of the place.

Wow!
The guards began to applaud, a courtesy favored by the savior, the emperor, especially after a speech or performance.

Because of their small number of people, their applause was sparse in the vast hall of the Chaos Factory Fortress.

Soon, more applause erupted, growing increasingly enthusiastic.

Those were the applause of the Iron Warriors. Although they didn't know what was happening, they subconsciously clapped along, fueled by the atmosphere.

Even though the Iron Warriors had fallen into chaos, they still retained a sliver of respect for the Royal Guard, let alone that it was a Primarch performing and showing them respect. It's pathetic, really; these Chaos Warriors hadn't experienced being respected in who knows how long.

Their genetic father was quick to punish, even resorting to eleven-killing sprees, despite not having lost a battle.

The Lord of Steel's reasoning was: "It was a Pyrrhic victory. Although the Iron Warriors were not defeated, they did not perform their best!"

He demanded that his offspring not only be genetically superior, but also unmatched, and used a bottom-ranking elimination system for selection.

In other words, the Iron Warriors received harsh, punitive training and received very little respect or recognition.

"This is the continuation of the tragedy. Perturabo transferred the unfair treatment and grievances he received from the Emperor onto the Iron Warriors."

Ron watched as the Iron Warrior, who had clapped for a moment and then immediately stopped, glancing at the Father of Genetics, sighed softly.

"I didn't expect you to know about music; that's quite a surprise."

Peturabo walked over, his expression no longer as relaxed as before.

After appreciating the music, he realized that the savior was probably more learned than he had imagined.

In particular, the music played by the other party contained the classical flavor of ancient Terra, and was at least not of a secondary education level.

What's more troublesome is that the opponent also understands the art of ancient Terra, which significantly reduces my chances of winning.

Fortunately, this time the discussion with the savior was about Leonardo da Vinci, the area in which he was most proficient in ancient Terran art.

Currently, humanity knows very little about Ancient Terra, not even enough to fill a bookshelf.

"Hmph, the savior couldn't possibly understand that great artist better than I do."

Peturabo remains confident of winning this match.

He admired the artifact again and said, "Savior, you have five minutes to find the answer and then give me your reply."

"What a precious collection..."

Ron walked over and looked at the mottled, colorless mural in front of him with great admiration.

Seeing familiar things in this strange world, he couldn't help but feel a pang of emotion.

The incomplete mural depicts several warriors engaged in battle on horseback; it is a work by Leonardo da Vinci.

Of course, Ron already knew that Perturabo would bring out Leonardo da Vinci's works, after all, he was the latter's favorite artist.

That's why we need to compare knowledge about art.

He knew the Lord of Steel very well, both in terms of his personality and preferences.

This is the advantage gained from information asymmetry, which is a form of "dimensional reduction attack".

"If I'm not mistaken, this is a fresco left by the ancient Terran artist Leonardo da Vinci, titled 'The Battle of Anghiari'."

It depicts a primitive and violent war.

Ron glanced at it a few times and then spoke without any hesitation.

This thing was very familiar to him; at least it was very clear in his memory.

In order to chat with people about politics, he randomly flipped through some related materials and wrote down a lot of notes.

In that era, acquiring knowledge was perhaps much easier than it is now.

Of course, as the psionic network gradually develops and matures, the Empire will also have a complete knowledge storage system.

Ron continued:
"This mural was once located in the Hall of Five Hundred in a palace, and it is a rather special work by Leonardo da Vinci."

"Impossible! How do you know so much detail!"

Peturab was stunned. The savior's understanding of the painting was actually greater than his own.

However, the next moment, he shut up without offering any reason to refute.

Because the savior used psychic powers to recreate the mural and project it, perfectly matching the portion of the collection that remained.

Subsequently, high-level think tanks further verified the authenticity of the savior's words through subspace.

The past will inevitably leave its mark on the subspace.

Although they couldn't figure out what it was, they could use psychic powers to verify whether some information was true or false.

However, it turned out that the savior was not lying.

Ron then exchanged more knowledge about ancient Terran art with Peturabo, completely dominating him.

It's clear from any observer that the Lord of Steel is utterly powerless against the Savior.

"You may have heard my legends. I am an all-knowing and all-powerful being in the galaxy, not just someone with the ability to prophesy."

I know more than anyone imagines, even the essence of this world.

Ron, with his omniscient and omnipotent prophet demeanor, immediately intimidated the Iron Lord and his offspring.

Those who possess knowledge hold erudite individuals in even higher esteem, sometimes to the point of worship.

Leonardo da Vinci once said that painting is the son of nature, and he loved everything in nature.

Yet you use violence to build fortresses, to destroy nature, to destroy planets. I can't imagine why you like Leonardo da Vinci.

Ron looked at Perturabo and began his scathing interrogation:
"Or is it that what you are doing now is not your true heart, but some kind of forced or disguised behavior?"

"What do you mean?!"

At this moment, Peturabo looked dejected and was deeply frustrated.

He felt inexplicably uncomfortable after hearing this, and was on the verge of anger.

"I'm sorry, I talked too much."

Ron didn't continue to provoke this stubborn man, but instead chose to take a step back: "I want to remind you that I won this match."

This is an undeniable fact; the Imperial Guard and the Iron Warriors are all watching this comparison closely.

They acknowledged in their hearts that the Savior was far more learned, and that being had triumphed over the Lord of Steel.

Under the watchful eyes of everyone, Peturabo offered no rebuttal; he simply nodded.
"Savior, your erudition is admirable; you have won the contest."

He had no excuse to deny his defeat; the savior's victory was all too obvious.

The pride of this Lord of Steel would not allow him to shamelessly break the rules; that would be an act devoid of honor.

"We have each won one battle, so the mechanical war will determine the final victory."

Peturabo tried to calm himself down and turned to walk away.

His chances of victory are still very high; with equal numbers, his Chaos Mechanical Legion will surely win.

Ron seemed to realize something, and his expression turned serious.

He followed them out to the terrace to watch the final mechanical war that would decide the outcome; victory or defeat depended on this last battle.

Not only him, but many more steel warriors followed suit.

They were very nervous.

These Chaos warriors swore an oath with their lives and honor that if the Savior were to win, they would become his warriors.

Those are vows that are hard to break. Even if they do go back on their word and manage to withstand the erosion of the curse, they will lose all their glory.

From now on, he will probably only be called a deceiver, not a steel warrior.

On the terrace.

Ron, Peturabo, and the others looked towards the distant battlefield, where the earth had been completely cracked open by the violent bombardment, and lava was flowing out.

The battlefield area was also tinged with vibrant colors due to various deadly radiations.

The war between mechanical legions is more terrifying than imagined.

Peturabo glanced at the Savior, then turned his gaze back to the battlefield, a slight smile appearing on his face.

The mechanical war is drawing to a close, with the dark mechs gaining the upper hand and annihilating the last remaining automated mechs.

"What a pity, Savior, your forging skills are not good enough."

Perturabo said softly, quite pleased with himself, "My machines are the best among humankind and will win this special war. Your flagship vehicle and technology are mine."

"I suggest you look closely, I haven't lost yet, my machine is starting to fight back."

At this moment, Ron's worries vanished, and he knew he had the upper hand.

In the mechanical war, the last automated mech withstood the firepower of the dark mech, revealing its golden, special alloy skeleton.

They began to charge in the opposite direction, breaking into the ranks of the dark mechs, and their relic-level weapons unleashed tremendous destructive power.

Those were automated mechs that had never appeared on the battlefield before; they were the savior's private version of mechs.

The foundry department likes to create all sorts of enhanced versions of weapons and then offer them to the savior as a protective force or for collection.

The body materials of these automated mechs are mixed with a lot of True One alloy, making them extremely hard.

That's right, it's the same material used in the Emperor's True Armor, which is considered extremely sacred.

After all, only those high-ranking warriors of the Empire could obtain a tiny amount of True One Alloy, the size of a fingernail.

It may even be possible to obtain only particles or even molecules of the true alloy.

Those automated mechs were not only made of sacred materials, but were also exposed to the sacred sun for 130 days and equipped with Blackstone technology.

It has a great restraint on chaotic machines.

Soon, they became the assault force, leading the remaining mechs to defeat the Dark Mechs.

Win the final victory.

“I’m sorry, Peturabo brothers, I have won the final victory, and now it is your turn to fulfill your promise.”

Ron's face lit up with a smile.

He looked at the steel warriors behind the other side, his eyes conveying a very clear hint:
What are you all standing there for? Come to your godfather's side!

(End of this chapter)