Chapter 382: Promotion to Forge Magos
The frigate pierced through the turbid atmosphere of Mars, and the sight outside the viewport was breathtaking.
The planet presented a sickly rust-red color. Its orbit was encircled by a magnificent structure known as the "Iron Ring"—an endless stretch of shipyards, spaceports, and starship construction facilities that tightly bound the entire planet like a metal belt.
Countless ships shuttled back and forth in orbit, like worker bees swarming around a hive.
As the altitude decreased, surface details gradually became clear.
Massive industrial complexes covered the entire field of vision. Towering Forge Temples belched thick smoke, and the glow of volcanic furnaces was clearly visible even in broad daylight.
A crisscrossing network of pipelines spread across the land like blood vessels, discharging toxic industrial waste into rivers that had long since deteriorated.
The air was thick with the pungent smell of metal dust and chemicals, which could be faintly perceived even through the ship's internal circulation system.
The fleet slowly landed at the Port of Hope.
This spaceport was a steel city in its own right. The landing platforms extended to the edge of the horizon, and giant cranes were as dense as a forest of steel.
When the hatch opened, dull mechanical roars instantly flooded in, mixed with the sharp friction of turning gears and the low-frequency hum of plasma engines.
Sigismund was the first to step down the ramp, his black power armor looking exceptionally grim under the dark red skylight of Mars.
The Templar Brethren behind him fanned out in a combat formation, their power weapons on standby.
Ryo's mechanical body slowly walked down the ramp, his optical lenses calmly scanning the welcoming party.
The Martian representatives had already been waiting for a long time.
Leading them was a Magos clad in a crimson robe. His mechanical augmetic eye flickered with a faint red light as it calibrated, and a precisely modulated binary greeting emitted from his vox-caster.
Behind him, dozens of Tech-Priests of various ranks stood solemnly on both sides. Their degrees of mechanical modification varied, but they all exuded the same aura of indifference.
"Welcome to Mars, Explorator Magos Ryo," the crimson-robed Magos said in Low Gothic, his voice carrying a unique mechanical accent. "The Machine God witnesses this historic meeting."
Ryo nodded slightly in return, his voice steady and clear: "May this meeting enhance understanding and promote cooperation."
On the way to the negotiation venue, Ryo noticed that every detail of this steel city embodied the credos of the Adeptus Mechanicus.
On the streets, Tech-Priests with varying degrees of modifications hurried about, their mechanical prosthetics forming a bizarre contrast with their original flesh.
Large numbers of servitors labored silently among the pipelines, executing their programmed repetitive tasks.
In the distance, Skitarii patrols marched in unified steps, their weapon systems gleaming with a cold, hard luster under the dark red skylight.
The negotiation venue was set in the renowned Gamma Sector Forge Temple.
This building itself was a symbol of the Adeptus Mechanicus's power. Its spire, several kilometers high, pointed straight into the heavens. The exterior walls were covered in continuously refreshing data streams, and giant cogwheels slowly turned inside the structure, emitting an eternal rumble.
When Ryo and Sigismund stepped into the main conference hall, what met their eyes was a massive circular metal table, around which sat twelve of the highest-ranking Archmagi of Mars.
Their mechanical eyes simultaneously focused on Ryo, and an invisible pressure permeated the entire space.
Sigismund took a step forward, the joints of his power armor emitting a faint hydraulic hiss.
"We come representing the will of the Emperor," his voice echoed in the hall. "Let the negotiations begin."
The leading Archmagos of Mars slowly raised his mechanical prosthetic arm, countless tiny servo-motors operating simultaneously.
"Then let us see," his vox-caster emitted a cold electronic voice, "if this highly regarded technology is truly as... revolutionary as the legends claim."
The negotiations officially began within the circular conference hall of the Gamma Sector Forge Temple.
The review panel composed of twelve Martian Archmagi had their mechanical eyes locked simultaneously onto Ryo, data streams rolling rapidly across their retinal displays.
The Martian side first demonstrated astonishing efficiency.
In just a few standard hours, a professional team composed of high-ranking Tech-Priests had already completed a preliminary assessment of the warp engine core technology.
Countless data cables rose from beneath the floor of the conference hall, connecting to the Archmagi's cranial ports. The entire analysis process was conducted in near-absolute silence, with only the occasional faint hum of servo-motors.
Finally, the Chief Archmagos broke the silence.
His vox-caster emitted a series of precisely modulated binary codes. These high-frequency sound waves echoed within the conference hall, translating into a data stream that only those mechanically modified could directly comprehend.
Ryo's auditory sensors immediately captured this binary message: "Technology verification complete. The warp engine's theoretical framework is intact, the technical pathway is viable, and it conforms to the sacred laws of the Omnissiah."
Ryo's mechanical body leaned forward slightly, emitting an encrypted binary response: "Gratitude for the verification. This technology will open new navigational routes for Humanity."
A faint sound of turning mechanical joints rang out in the venue; this was the Archmagi's special way of expressing agreement.
The Chief Archmagos continued to convey through binary code: "Based on the momentous value of this technology, the Martian Parliament has decided to bestow upon you the title of 'Forge Magos'."
At this time, another Archmagos emitted a different binary sequence: "However, the qualification for bestowing the title of 'Archmagos' requires discussion."
Dense sounds of data exchange immediately rang out within the conference hall.
The Archmagi engaged in intense discussion via binary code, their mechanical eyes constantly shifting with the light of data streams.
A conservative binary message propagated through the air: "The title of Archmagos must follow tradition, examining one's understanding of doctrine and seniority."
The supportive faction immediately responded with binary code: "The value of this technology far exceeds the norm; promotion standards should be adjusted."
Just as the debate was growing fierce, Ryo emitted a calm and resolute binary code: "Gratitude for the recognition, but I must politely decline the title of Archmagos. My current focus is on the perfection and promotion of the technology."
This response plunged the venue into a brief silence. The Archmagi rapidly exchanged opinions through the binary network. Ultimately, the Chief Archmagos issued the final resolution on behalf of the Parliament: "Decision respected. Formally bestowing the title of 'Forge Magos', granting corresponding clearances on Mars and its affiliated Forge Worlds."
A squad of Tech-Priests stepped into the venue, holding a red robe whose surface was woven with conductive fibers, and a cogwheel insignia embedded with a data chip inside.
Ryo's single pauldron was removed, and the red robe was connected to his mechanical body via magnetic interfaces. The cogwheel insignia was implanted directly into the data port of his chest armor.
The entire process was accompanied by precise mechanical arm operations and the flickering of data transmission indicator lights. There was not a single prayer, only the precise clicks emitted as the components engaged.
When Ryo and Sigismund left the conference hall and stepped into the connecting corridor, Sigismund finally spoke up and asked, "What did they say?"
Ryo's optical lenses slightly adjusted their focus: "They recognized the technological value, bestowed the title of Forge Magos upon me, and discussed the qualifications for Archmagos. I declined the higher title."
Sigismund nodded slightly: "A wise choice. Gaining too high a title prematurely would only make you a target for all."
Ryo gazed at his newly acquired golden cogwheel insignia, his synthesized voice remaining steady: "Now, we should focus on the upcoming technological demonstration."