Chapter 142: The Emperor's Favorite Fanatic (Patreon)

Iso turned and strode toward the council’s round table, his face flushed with excitement, his eyes burning with fervor.

“Gentlemen!” He spread his arms as though he meant to embrace the entire star map. “It’s clear now! We must be just as enthusiastic—and just as uncompromising—as Commander Ghostface and his Helldivers Legion in cleansing the entire Jersey Sector! Root out every hidden heretic, traitor, and weak-willed coward!”

He was just about to launch into his grand plan of purification, one that would likely set the entire sector ablaze, when Commander-in-Chief Wendell Gage’s voice rang out and cut him off at precisely the right moment.

“Bishop Iso.” Wendell’s voice remained as steady as ever. “I understand your fervent loyalty to the Emperor, as well as your deep-seated hatred of traitors. However, from a military perspective, the expeditionary fleet can no longer afford the risk of remaining here.”

Wendell had made his opposition perfectly clear.

Rogue Trader Lucian did not even bother to speak. He merely picked up a glass of wine from the table and swirled it leisurely between his fingers.

His relaxed posture was itself a silent vote against Iso’s proposal.

Iso hesitated, then turned to his staunchest ally, Inquisitor Grande, and cast him a pleading look.

Grande merely shook his head.

“All right… all right…” The fervent fire in the Pope’s eyes dimmed considerably. Grumbling under his breath, he reluctantly returned to his seat. Then he beckoned to Ghostface, signaling for him to come and stand behind his chair.

Ghostface obeyed, though beneath his cold faceplate, he muttered to himself.

So, somehow, I’ve been classified as part of the Ecclesiarchy faction.

He stood behind the Pope, quietly surveying the room. With his full-face helmet covering his features, he could get away with observing everyone as long as he avoided staring at anyone for too long.

Even though he had never read the original accounts of the Damocles Gulf Crusade, the factional struggle in the room was already obvious.

He still had no idea whether siding with the Ecclesiarchy was the right choice.

But Ghostface did not regret it.

Being included in the core of power was certainly better than being shut out of it. And besides, joining the Ecclesiarchy faction might not be such a bad thing.

With the internal cleansing agenda temporarily shelved, Commander-in-Chief Wendell Gage once again took control of the hall.

He rose from his seat, braced both hands against the table, and leaned forward slightly. His sharp gaze fixed on a specific region of the holographic star map.

“Gentlemen. We will now discuss our next military action.”

His voice drew everyone’s attention back to him.

“I propose that the fleet immediately end its rest in the Jersey Sector and proceed at full speed into the neighboring Highlander region. I have two reasons.”

He extended one finger and pointed to a deep-red route marked across the star map.

“First, the Highlander region is the ideal springboard for an assault on the T’au Empire’s frontier colonies. If our fleet can successfully pass through this region, we can launch a surprise attack deep within enemy territory, strike at the heart of their defenses, and disrupt their overall deployment.”

His finger moved across the holographic display, tracing a second route back toward the Jersey Sector.

“Second, and equally important, the Highlander region provides us with a secure line of retreat. Should we encounter unexpected resistance, or should enemy reinforcements exceed our estimates, the fleet can use the terrain of the Highlander system to withdraw calmly into the Jersey Sector.”

He tapped the region behind them.

“We have just finished cleansing it. Our logistics base here will provide the fleet with a secure rear area for rest, resupply, and reinforcement.”

Wendell straightened and swept his gaze across the table before delivering his conclusion.

“This plan gives us both an advance and a retreat. We have already spent the time securing our rear. Now, we must drive our sword forward before the enemy has time to react.”

The proposal was clear, pragmatic, and difficult to fault.

The magnates present exchanged glances, considered it briefly, and quickly reached a consensus.

Rogue Trader Lucian was the first to voice his support. For him, a clear and decisive military operation was far more attractive than becoming bogged down in a prolonged internal purge with uncertain returns.

Inquisitor Grande merely nodded.

“Feasible.”

His duty was to judge the Emperor’s enemies, and the most obvious enemy before them was the T’au Empire entrenched in the region.

Even Bishop Iso remained silent for several moments before reluctantly accepting the plan. From a military standpoint, Wendell’s proposal was impeccable. His own proposal for continued internal cleansing had already been rejected; attempting to challenge the fleet’s most experienced military commander on tactical grounds would only make him look foolish.

With consensus reached, the remaining items on the agenda were mostly administrative.

The allocation of logistical supplies to the various Space Marine Chapters and Astra Militarum forces, fleet formation orders, initial communication protocols, and other details were quickly settled under Wendell’s efficient leadership.

Finally, Wendell rose to his feet.

“The council is adjourned. All personnel return to your posts. In twelve Terran hours, the expeditionary fleet will set sail and attack the xenos!”

The council erupted into movement as people began filing out.

Ghostface had just turned to follow the crowd when Pope Iso called after him.

“Ghostface!”

Ghostface stopped.

Iso hurried over and affectionately patted his cold black shoulder plate.

“You should hurry back. Remember, as an Astra Militarum commander, you must be upright, kind, intelligent, enthusiastic, and pious! And above all, you must always be prepared to secure victory for the Emperor and exterminate every last xenos and heretic!”

“Hehe. Of course. Of course.”

Ghostface chuckled beneath his helmet.

“Do you have any other instructions?”

Iso hesitated.

His expression suddenly became unusually serious, as though he were considering an extremely important matter.

“Would you… be willing to stay here and continue the cleansing work in the Jersey Sector?”

Ghostface froze.

Iso continued, “I still have the authority to mobilize an Astra Militarum legion under my command.”

“Uh…”

Ghostface suddenly felt that this old man might actually be a little crazy.

“I think my warriors would still prefer to fight for the Emperor’s glory on a real battlefield.”

“All right.”

A trace of disappointment flickered across Iso’s face, but it vanished almost immediately, replaced by even more fervent encouragement.

He waved his hand grandly.

“Then go with confidence! I’ll get you double—no, triple—the supplies you need! As many Leman Russ tanks as you want! You must utterly annihilate those filthy xenos for me!”

What the hell?!

Ghostface’s eyes widened beneath his full-face helmet.

Only moments ago, he had thought this old man was slightly unhinged.

Now?

He was the most adorable and generous fanatic in the entire universe!

The next instant, Ghostface snapped his boots together, straightened his body, and executed an impeccably precise Aquila salute toward Pope Iso.

“Loyalty! For the Emperor!”