Chapter 216: We Need More Old Veterans
The reconstruction of Galaspar and the training of the Death Guard were steadily progressing.
Everyone had received basic administrative training from Fuller. Surprisingly, Fuller took education quite seriously—probably because it was his first time being genuinely acknowledged and entrusted with real responsibilities. He was quite diligent too. Despite getting metaphorically "beaten up" by students every day on the Barbarus Star Ring, he somehow still managed to handle the high-intensity workload.
The only issue was… the people being filled with Fuller's peculiar knowledge had their worldviews significantly reshaped.
Hades supervised on the side, and together the two picked out promising candidates for administration—Wood being the standout example—to undergo more advanced training.
As for the civilians who showed strong commitment and a desire to fight on the battlefield, they were trained by Hades himself. This time, Hades had requested outside support and brought in his close brothers from the Armoury. These seasoned warriors were responsible for teaching the mortal auxiliary troops how to operate vehicles and weapons, as well as improving their battlefield skills. Tactical command and support training, however, were handled personally by Hades.
Garro and the Grave Wardens were in charge of conducting further character assessments and training for the potential Astartes candidates.
So far, everything seemed to be going relatively smoothly—
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
"No, no! At this point, you need to smile politely."
"He's hinting that I should give him some 'benefits', and I still have to smile?"
"Not shooting him on the spot is already me being polite!"
"Gosh, why are you so stubborn? If you don't offer him a little personal benefit, he'll just go to another planet for cooperation. Don't you want to make deals? That's how business works!"
"What kind of business is that?!"
"That's just how it is. Are you going to learn or not? If you can't learn, we'll replace you. You're way too stiff."
"Ahh! He's hitting me! Help! Lord Hades! Help!!"
Wood, fed up, swung his fist. Fuller, sensing danger, bolted instantly. Despite his chubby appearance, Wood actually couldn't catch up with him once he started running.
The entire hall was temporarily divided into two sections: on one side, Fuller was giving advanced lessons to this batch of administrative trainees; on the other side, Hades was leading the Techmarines in familiarizing the mortal auxiliary troops with all sorts of vehicles and weapons. Perhaps because the Armoury didn't usually interact much with other departments, the Techmarines were surprisingly talkative when dealing with these regular civilians.
"Lord Hades! Help!"
"Enough. Stop."
Hades' head was pounding from the shouting. Thankfully, the Armoury brothers held back their laughter—at least giving Hades some face.
He got up from in front of a Cerberus Heavy Tank and walked directly over to the two men. Under Hades' "kind-looking" smile and his towering physical presence, the two immediately fell silent like frightened chicks.
Fuller dabbed at his sweat with a handkerchief.
"My lord, he just swings at me without warning! My life's in danger here! It's terrifying!"
Ignoring Fuller's theatrics, Hades turned to Wood.
"What's the matter?"
Wood stood tall and firm, his expression righteous.
"Reporting, sir! I accuse him of teaching total garbage!"
Hades blinked.
"Then tell me—if you want to become a qualified planetary governor, what do you think you need to learn?"
Wood paused for a moment, then spoke with stubborn defiance.
"Managing the people, environmental governance, building factories… definitely not what he's teaching!"
Hades turned to Fuller.
"Did you teach the things Wood just mentioned?"
"I did, sir! I swear I did! Those were the first things I taught—administrative management and all!"
Fuller nodded furiously, like a chicken pecking at rice.
"Wood, I have to remind you—besides the things you just mentioned, a competent planetary governor must also deal with Imperial officials, Tech-Priests, and administrators from neighboring star systems."
"Galaspar is a major industrial system, which means you must learn how to get along with them."
"You chose the administrative track yourself, didn't you? And I do think you're genuinely suited for it."
Wood and Sinis, based on their respective desires and capabilities, had been placed on different paths—one to become a top-tier administrator, and the other to serve as the leader of the mortal auxiliary forces.
Hades thought Wood had guts, decent perception, and more than enough loyalty. He could be groomed directly for the role of planetary governor—if only he could just make that mental shift.
Wood swallowed nervously. Hades could tell he was still a bit reluctant.
"My lord… have you ever encountered this kind of situation?"
Hades' eye twitched slightly.
Could he say that compared to the weird and eldritch creatures on the Forge Worlds, most mortal officials were child's play? At least Imperial bureaucrats still had faces you could read. The Tech-Priests didn't even have faces—or morals—so Hades had to rely entirely on experience and gut instinct.
He still vividly remembered the hellish verbal duels he had with the Tech-Priests—his memories filled with the "fragrance" of logic engines humming away in the background.
With a solemn nod, Hades said,
"I have. This is a product of a certain stage of human civilization's development. You may not understand it now, but in your position, you must learn to navigate these… 'habits.'"
"Wood, I understand how you feel. But you have to learn to face this."
Hades spoke firmly:
"I want you to become a competent administrator, Wood. We both know your intentions are good."
Wood fell silent.
So even someone as mighty as Hades had to deal with this kind of situation? He had thought the "Legion" represented absolute authority…
Hades looked at the now-quiet Wood and said,
"You'll have to handle affairs using methods you personally despise. But I know you'll hold fast to your inner principles. That's exactly why I chose you."
"It wasn't just because you had a drink with the Primarch, you know. I care about ability too."
Hades added jokingly—and noticed that Wood's face flushed a little.
So easily embarrassed, huh? Still too soft. It reminded Hades of the newly inducted Death Guard recruits—though those guys could tear the heads off xenos with their bare hands, they still had fragile pride. For someone in administration like Wood, this definitely needed more tempering.
When it came to interpersonal finesse, only a few seasoned veterans who managed the Legion really had the knack for it. Vorx hadn't fully developed the skill yet. As for Hades—he was a natural, so that didn't count.
Oh, and you could probably count Calas—now in stasis—as another one. That guy was the kind who could talk to saints and devils with equal ease.
Still, managing the Legion was one thing—with a Primarch watching over them, it was no big issue. The real concern was the rear—planetary development. They'd need cunning people there. They couldn't let some smooth-talking outsider swindle them.
If the rear was stable, the Legion would have solid logistics and defensive strongholds.
"Study hard, Wood. Fuller does have experience in this area."
"Aye, don't worry, my lord! I, Fuller, will definitely teach him well!"
Seizing the chance to kiss up when Hades praised him, Fuller jumped in. Hades gave him a knowing look, and Fuller instantly launched into a tag-team routine with Hades. Wood, for all his talent, was still too green—he couldn't resist the verbal gymnastics of two seasoned manipulators. Within minutes, he was all dizzy and dazed, swearing to study hard from now on.
He'd only realize later how sketchy that whole exchange with Hades and Fuller had been—once he actually learned enough to recognize it.
Watching Wood being led away—grinning like a fool—by a triumphant Fuller, Hades felt a faint sense of guilt. It was like dragging a morally upright good kid down into the murky waters of political scheming.
Still, in this environment, everyone eventually became a seasoned operator. And compared to Astartes, mortals were much easier to drag into the muck. Might as well grab whoever he could—Hades is counting on them to haggle with Imperial bureaucrats someday.
Turning back to the tanks, Hades resumed teaching the mortal auxiliaries how to operate them.
Was there anything more satisfying than teaching someone to drive a tank? At least, it's certainly better than coaxing some pure-hearted Galasparn into a lifetime of scheming.
That faint flicker of guilt? Gone in a flash.