"You… you call this person your finest Apothecary? Are you kidding me?!"
Bruce's voice sounded exactly like his current state of mind: completely shattered.
When he had excitedly brought his new warship to the Nightfall to receive its supplies, his whole world had collapsed.
The equipment and machinery were fine. No complaints there. They had even given him two Dreadnoughts—what more could he ask for? There were also quite a few armed vehicles.
But the real problem was personnel.
This round of reinforcements gave Bruce only fifty Astartes, one Apothecary, and a bunch of Mechanicum personnel.
And among those fifty Astartes, most of them were technical specialists.
Where were the combat troops? The frontline fighters? Was he seriously supposed to rely on Shavok's old crew?
Come on. If I have to go to war with those people at my back, are you really not afraid I'll die?
"Acting Commander, we meet again. Hahaha..." Warfarin scratched the back of her head with a cheerful grin.
"Why didn't you just give me Talos Valcoran instead?!"
Bruce immediately voiced his real request.
"Lansahai is from Nostramo. She was recruited into a medical corps at a young age and rose quickly to the position of Chief Apothecary. She is extremely skilled in surgery, whether that means prolonging an enemy's suffering or rapidly healing allied wounds.
"More importantly, after drinking the transformation potion and completing her metamorphosis, her overall performance improved even further, and she can now use blood-based arts similar to psychic abilities.
"In summary, she is indeed one of the more outstanding Apothecaries in the Legion."
Sevatar answered Bruce's question in a perfectly logical tone.
"Of course, her criminal record and the fact that the primarch personally exiled her are separate matters."
Then she added, "My company needs Talos Valcoran, so stop dreaming. The fact that I'm willing to give you Lansahai at all should already satisfy you."
I said I'd give you a very outstanding Apothecary. I never said anything about character.
Besides, among the fifty Astartes being assigned to you, there are also two Apothecaries of fairly decent skill. What exactly are you dissatisfied with?
"And you think this person is actually reliable?!"
Bruce pointed at Warfarin, whose face radiated vacant confidence, and asked with great difficulty.
"She's already been tested. Very reliable."
"The remnants of Shavok's faction spilled every scrap of information they had because of her methods. Want to try them yourself?" Sevatar asked with a half-smile.
"My lady captain, surely I would never do anything to the Acting Commander…"
"Sorry…"
The moment Warfarin noticed Sevatar's unfriendly gaze and remembered exactly how terrifying those throwing knives were, she immediately lowered her head in apology.
She had nearly died there.
"In any case, that's the extent of your reinforcements. Do you have any other questions, Acting Commander?" Sevatar handed him a list. "If not, sign it. Once you do, all this equipment and personnel will belong to the Remilia."
Rather than sending Bruce supplies, it was more like they were giving him men, equipment, and a starting package—after that, he would have to build his own power base.
Sevatar did not know how other Legions operated, but in the Eighth Legion, if you wanted to establish yourself, you needed to have some resources of your own.
Even if you were made an officer, you still had to find a way to control your own following. Otherwise you were worthless. Securing supplies was part of the job too.
The Night Lords were less a Legion than a loose federation of gangs: small gangs answered to bigger gangs, bigger gangs answered to the Night Haunter Council, and the Council answered to the primarch.
Someone like Bruce, who was handed men, a warship, and supplies right at the start—and even had people ready to cover for him if he messed up—was basically a heresy inside the Night Lords.
"Can't you send me a few more people? Maybe some Contekar, Raptors, Black Guard… just throw me a bone here?"
Bruce took the list and tried desperately to find something useful.
But no matter how he looked through it, the only things that truly counted as helpful were the fifty technical Astartes. Yes, they were still Astartes—but they were specialists.
If your ship's technical serfs had to go boarding enemy vessels, then something had gone very, very wrong.
"You really dare ask that. If I actually gave them to you, would you dare take them?" Sevatar threw the question right back at him, blinking innocently.
The Black Guard were one thing—they were familiar with Bruce. But the Contekar Terminator elite? Bruce could never control that pack of butchers.
To them, if you weren't Nostraman, you were an idiot. You, Bruce—a Terran outsider, a gutter-beggar—wanted to command them? They'd sooner bury you.
And beyond that, the Nostraman noble houses that formed the Legion's main ruling class had already had a great deal of their wealth and industries devoured by Bruce's Wayne Group. The fact that they had not hired assassins to kill this outsider already showed remarkable restraint.
Push any further, and even the primarch couldn't save you.
"Then at least give me a few more Black Guard…" Bruce pleaded.
"Are three not enough?" Sevatar looked like she truly had no idea how to help him any further.
"What if they die while boarding with me?!"
"It's fine. Their orders are that if you die, they are to recover your gene-seed first and then retreat. So you needn't worry about that."
Had they actually already made a contingency plan for my death?
"At most, I can give you another batch of gene-seed," Sevatar said, her tone turning serious. "During this optimization period, it's impossible to allocate too many people to you."
"Besides, the defectors aboard your ship need to be used up first."
"The primarch gave you the Remilia as a test, not so you could die with it. Do you understand?"
At this point, if Bruce was still thinking only about boarding actions and slaughter, then Sevatar felt she might have to punch some sense into him.
The primarch wanted you to be a commander, not a reckless berserker.
"Fine. Better something than nothing."
Bruce flipped through the list a few more times, then signed it helplessly.
"Oh, right. Did my captain candidate get approved?"
He had wanted Doraemon to serve as his captain. He might not be especially competent, but at least they could work together. They were comrades.
"No."
"Why not?!"
Bruce stared in shock.
Even such a simple request had been rejected?
"The primarch vetoed it."
"…?!"
"She's afraid you'll take that round-headed tanuki and defect to the Dark Angels, so he must stay behind as a hostage. If you run, they'll kill him."
"So they really distrust me that much…" Bruce turned his head away, feeling rather guilty.
"Besides, we also need his tools for the development of Nostramo. That is equally important, so I hope you understand," Sevatar explained, unusually patient.
"Fine. I understand."
Actually, leaving Doraemon behind was the right call.
After all, Bruce would come back once he dealt with Erebus. Someone reliable had to remain in the rear, and Doraemon could ensure Curze herself stayed safe.
Rather than a hostage, he was more like Bruce's greatest asset stationed at home base.
"Oh, and on the day you formally depart, Father has a gift for you," Sevatar said. "You can look forward to it."
"What is it? Can't you at least give me a hint?"
"A surprise should stay a surprise until the end."
"…Fine."
"That's all, then. I still need to speak with Krulu about a few matters. If you're interested, you can attend as well."
"A meeting? Then I'd better go too. She is the fleet commander, after all."
Bruce hated meetings, but he also knew this one was necessary.
"Then I'll wait for you at the landing bay."
Sevatar nodded and departed first with her escort.
"Warfarin, from now on you are the Chief Apothecary of the Remilia. Understood?"
Bruce addressed the utterly unreliable-looking Apothecary.
"Understood! It is my honor to serve the Acting Commander!"
Warfarin gave him a dependable thumbs-up.
"Alfred, coordinate the transfer of the supplies. I'm going to the strategy meeting."
Then, turning to two of the three Black Guard assigned to him, Bruce quietly issued another order.
"You two keep an eye on things too."
"Yes!"
The Black Guard and Alfred answered in unison.
Then, as Bruce and the remaining Black Guard left at a run, the people present instinctively divided into two camps: the Remilia's original crew and the newly assigned reinforcements.
They stared at one another, and the atmosphere immediately grew tense.
After all, a warship's resources were limited. Whoever earned the Acting Commander's favor first would become top dog.
The two Black Guard, standing off to one side and watching this, felt that this was exactly how things ought to be.
This is what the Eighth Legion is supposed to look like.
Join here to read ahead.
In Star Rail, Ultra-Beast Armored — Have I Caught "Equilibrium"? l (Chapter 80)
Uma Musume, But I Only Have Five Years Left to Live (Chapter 178)
Zenless Zone Zero: I'm a Doctor, Not a Bangboo (Chapter 115)
Ben Tennyson Wants to Join the Justice League ( 126 )
TYPE-MOON: Redemption Beginning with the Holy Grail War (Chapter110)
Yu-Gi-Oh! — Transmigrated into the White Dragon Girl (Chapter108)
"Is this chat group even serious?" (Chapter82)
I, Lord Ravager, Utterly Loyal! (Chapter144)
Can Playing Games Save the World? 65
Crossover Anime Multiverse: The Demon Hunter of an Unnatural World 70
From Junkman to Wasteland 66
Weekly Refresh of Overpowered 31
I'm Grinding Proficiency Like 46
From Kiana, Lord Ravager, Onwa 99
Honkai: Is This Still the Prev 42
Elf: My Starter Pokémon Is Inc 65
Warhammer: My Primarch Is Remi 95
From Demon Slayer to Grand Ass 99
The Way the Umamusume Look at 68
Uma Musume, but My Cheat Power 92
Naruto: Weaving the Future, Be 65
Zenless Zone Zero, but Kamen R 76
Multiverse Crossover: The Perf 66
My Cyberpsycho Girlfriend 65
Uma Musume: The Dark Trainer 47
Uma Musume: A Calamity Born fr 44
I, a Reincarnation-Loop Player 43
The Violent Girl Group Is Beat 26
Uma Musume: The Horse Girl Who 32
Uma Musume: From Beginner 26
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