Warhammer 40: Doom

Chapter 212 Visitors
The two Primarchs entered the garden deck, signaling the official start of the reception.

The garden deck is 20 kilometers long, 5 kilometers wide, and 100 meters high, making it the most magnificent deck on the warship.

The top features a holographic projection of a blue sky, offering an unparalleled view. The artificial light is soft and warm, making you feel as if you are under natural sunlight.

Looking around, the banquet area in the garden is filled with tables and chairs, with thousands of gilded dining tables scattered like stars, and exquisite porcelain plates on the tables.

Looking down at the garden layout from the transparent elevator, Doom nodded to himself, thinking that Sofia's arrangement was very reasonable.

The thousand imperial guards, unusually, removed their armor and donned long, smooth, golden robes, their expressions relaxed yet tinged with arrogance.

Their seats were placed in a corner of the innermost circle of the garden to highlight the extraordinary status of the Imperial Guard.

The arrangement of the Doomsday Warriors sitting alongside the Imperial Guards did not seem out of place.

Their genetic surgery was carried out by the Imperial Guard, and the two had a deep history. This arrangement was both reasonable and had a deeper meaning.

The Night Guard sat next to the Doom Soldier; both were warriors of Doom, and such intimacy was to be expected.

Beside them were high-ranking officers from the Space Wolves and the First Legion, with fine wine and fresh fruits and vegetables laid out in front of them.

Finally, the members of the Mechanicus, including several Mechanic Sages, attended the banquet.

They looked around, whispering amongst themselves as they examined the garden's layout.

At the center of the core circle stood a giant table. Two enormous chairs were placed on the table, and twenty tall chairs extended from either side, where the true high-ranking officials were seated.

A stream flows gently through the garden, filled with a faint fragrance of flowers, while a fountain sprays water at varying heights to the accompaniment of soothing music.

Despite the relaxed environment, the atmosphere was incredibly serious.

The First Legion Space Marines polished their armor, which gleamed black, and sat upright in their chairs.

Even the wild wolves, who were usually so unruly, lowered their voices when they spoke.

The two Primarchs appeared in the transparent elevator, descended amidst the attention of the crowd, and entered the garden banquet.

Wow~~~
Everyone present stood up to show their respect for the Primarch.

One hundred thousand Space Marines rose to their feet, the sound of their armor scraping against each other in perfect unison; the warriors did not want to lose face in front of their cousins.

Two Primarchs stood tall before the round table.

"Today, we gather here." Doom's deep voice was transmitted to everyone's ears through the sound array system.

As the one who invited the banquet, he needed to clarify the theme.

This is a necessary etiquette, intended to explain the purpose and significance of the banquet to the guests.

"We celebrate the partial victory that Randan has achieved in the war."

Doom and Ruth bowed to accept the wine glasses offered by the servants, raising the rich red liquid high: "Let us raise a glass to celebrate our victory!"

Ruth bared his fangs, raised his glass high, and roared, "Victory!"

"Victory!" Everyone joined the Primarch in a thunderous cheer, the combined sound causing the glasses to vibrate.

"We paid too high a price for this victory." Doom's expression was slightly somber as he placed his glass in front of him: "To those who sacrificed themselves."

Having said that, the two Primarchs poured the wine onto the floor, offering the first sip as a tribute to the victorious martyrs.

"Respect to the fallen." The heavy, low voices brought tears to many eyes as they thought of their brothers and colleagues who had sacrificed their lives.

"Please take a seat," Doom gestured for Ruth to sit down first.

As the host of the banquet, you need to demonstrate etiquette and guide your distinguished guests to their seats first.

Without any hesitation, Ruth raised his hand in a "please" gesture, walked to the huge round table, and sat down on the right.

Wow~~~
There was another round of seating sounds as the banquet attendees took their seats, following the Primarch's lead.

The music started again, and servants dressed in white silk robes walked out from all four sides in neat rows.

They were graceful and elegant, standing in pairs in front of each table, serving the triumphant army with courtly etiquette.

A machine-made food cart enters and brings up delicious dishes, which are then placed on the table by waiters.

“Excellent, I’m starting to look forward to the trip to Nur.” Rus nodded in approval. The magnificent court etiquette was indeed very suitable for important occasions.

With his brother's approval, Dum couldn't help but smile: "I'll definitely satisfy you."

He couldn't help but straighten his chest; Nur's etiquette was so meticulous, a profound tradition passed down for thousands of years without interruption.

“These foods are quite good too.” Ruth’s sense of smell was keen, his nostrils twitching as he caught the aromas in the air. Doom explained to him, “These are meat beasts bred in the agricultural world, carefully raised, and then slaughtered and placed in a static field warehouse to lock in their freshest flavor.”

The delicacies served by the servants were all the finest products from the Nur agricultural world, intended to entertain the most distinguished guests.

For this banquet, Doom specially allocated a ship to transport food and hospitality supplies.

"This is too extravagant. It must have taken a lot of resources, right?" Ruth licked his lips, praising the food while sensing his brother's dedication to the banquet.

“These are normal supplies.” Doum shook his head and explained, “The Nur Stars are now rich in resources. In the past, there was not much difference between royalty and commoners in terms of food, clothing and daily necessities.”

Ruth's eyes widened in shock as he turned to his brother and asked, "Is this a normal supply?"

“Yes,” Doum nodded and said, “Nur’s people can enjoy these supplies as long as they contribute enough.”

"Tsk tsk tsk." Russ shook his head and clicked his tongue in amazement. He really hadn't expected that ordinary people could enjoy these supplies.

He was deeply moved and longed to witness the constellation of Nur under his brother's rule.

"Heh." Ruth cleared his throat and said to the maid beside him, "Madam, please inform the kitchen that we need a large amount of wine and meat."

“Especially those people.” He pointed to the Space Wolf, “Bring on the good wine and meat.”

Knowing that his brother's family was rolling in money, Ruth no longer held back and ate all the energy he had used up in the battle.

"Yes, Your Excellency." The maid's voice was soft and gentle as she performed a courtly bow before leaving.

"You won't mind, will you?" Ruth asked, feigning seriousness. "Don't be upset."

"You can eat your fill," Doom said nonchalantly, waving his hand dismissively to let his brothers do as they pleased.

"Then I won't hold back." Ruth grinned wickedly, stood up from his chair, pointed at the Space Wolves' location, and shouted, "Space Wolves!"

"Awooo!" The space wolf responded to the father of genes with a howl.

"Eat to your heart's content! Drink to your heart's content!" The wolf lord's wild roar ignited the atmosphere of the banquet: "There's plenty of meat and wine here."

"To the Primarch." Space Wolf raised his glass to Doom, offering a heartfelt toast.

"A toast to the Space Wolf." Doom filled his glass with fine wine, raised it to the Wolf, and drank it down in one gulp.

The atmosphere at the banquet immediately relaxed, the seriousness dissipated, and the banquet officially began.

"That feels so good." Ruth downed his glass of wine in one gulp, squinting as he savored the rich aroma. "I've been looking forward to this for so long."

"Oh?" Doom was intrigued by his brother's words: "Did you drink it somewhere else?"

“My lord,” Sophia appeared at the right moment and whispered in his ear, “Nur wine is very popular in the Gateway Galaxy, and traveling merchants and wanderers are vying to buy it.”

"I see." He suddenly realized that Russ must have been bought from the traveling merchant.

“Those unscrupulous merchants!” Ruth cursed through gritted teeth as he spoke of the traveling merchants. “They actually tried to trade a case of wine for a transport ship from me.”

Upon hearing the price, Doom's heart skipped a beat, and he turned to Sophia to ask, "Are our products really that expensive?"

"It's not you," Rus answered for Sophia before she could speak. "It's the traveling merchants who resell goods for thousands or even tens of thousands of times the price."

"This kind of thing is hard to stop." Doom shook his head helplessly. Merchants have always been profit-driven, and hoarding and speculation are common occurrences.

"You didn't switch, did you?" He looked at Russ, who was drinking heavily, with a strange glint in his eyes.

A case of wine, a transport ship.

Ruth couldn't possibly have changed it, but how did he manage to get the drink?

"Hehe." Ruth grinned, stroking the wolf mane under his cheek. "The galaxy is dangerous; pirates are everywhere."

“You really are…” Doom paused for a moment, stunned by his brother’s cunning: “So you stole them.”

“I didn’t, I didn’t, you’re talking nonsense.” Ruth shook his head, displaying a somewhat roguish air: “Don’t slander your brother.”

"Let's drink, let's drink." He quickly urged Doom to drink, changing the subject: "Today we must drink until we're completely drunk."

Just as the two brothers were drinking and exchanging toasts, a massive fleet was sailing through the subspace and arrived in the Morse system.

Leading the way is a Glory Queen-class warship, with the ancient Roman numeral "II" engraved on her side.

"Father of Genetics, the Morse Galaxy lies ahead," a soldier from the Second Legion reported to the tall figure standing by the porthole.

The man didn't speak, his eyes reflecting the mottled subspace, and he simply nodded silently.

(Arrived home at 8 PM, the fire had burned out.)
(End of this chapter)