"Savior, how does it taste?" Big Barrel looked on hopefully, awaiting Eden's approval of his cooking.
"Not bad—very tasty!"
Eden took a bite of roasted bull tendon and nodded, giving a thumbs-up.
He'd sampled daemon flesh before out of curiosity. Now, for so reason, he found himself less repulsed by it. In fact...he found it kinda good?
"I should watch it, though. Who knows if eating too much might have side effects..."
Nonetheless, Eden gave orders for the Logistics Departnt to preserve a portion of the daemon at.
One day, at important diplomatic functions, serving a "Full Daemon Banquet" could definitely wow the crowd. The only hassle was that preparing daemon-based cuisine required special talent like Big Barrel's.
But that shouldn't be too big a problem.The gene-seed in Big Barrel is nearly matured. Within a few years, they could cultivate more Space Marines with both devouring talents and master-level culinary skill.
Eden was starting to suspect Big Barrel's "devour gene" might have originated from Eden's own gene-code, sohow surpassing the original. Hard to say.
Finishing the bull tendon in two or three bites, Eden casually discarded the large iron skewer. Wiping his hands together, he stood upright. Until now, he had been perched atop a heavy tank's wreckage—so three ters high—so from his vantage, the entire Throne Plaza was in view.
All across the plaza, the army was withdrawing, their battlefield cleanup almost complete. Eden ntally reviewed the war:
Early stages had gone smoothly. Thanks to intel from missionary-scouts, the Ministry of Military Affairs had a solid grasp of Tyrant Harris's forces. They planned for various contingencies, including Harris's eventual daemonic corruption.
EUS had enough strength to take Matila.
The real trouble ca from that ritual circle hidden deep underground. It had summoned the Greater Daemon of Khorne, Ka'bandha, leading a legion of daemons. EUS's top-tier forces were too few—only a few hundred Space Marines—and they couldn't break through to the core of the daemon legion.
Even now, Eden felt lingering dread. Had Ka'bandha not left his legion's core to fight alone, Eden could never have fired the Holy Ash Shell. Even then, if another Greater Daemon of Khorne arrived, Holy Ash Shell or not, victory wouldn't be guaranteed.
Clearly, they still needed more of these doomsday weapons—Holy Ash Shells—but doomsday weapons alone were not reliable. If the enemy was prepared and dodged the projectile, the weapon's effectiveness would plumt. Eden decided never again to land himself in such a desperate spot. Gotta build up real power...
At least—for now—the daemons were driven off, unlikely to return soon. He had to seize this chance to steadily grow the overall strength of his domain.
Eden was thankful indeed that he'd managed to drive Ka'bandha away so quickly. Even if the Bloodthirster survived, at least it hadn't learned much about Eden. Then, Eden sensed Tzeentch's scrutiny and quickly sought help from the Emperor, who hamred Tzeentch rcilessly.
Thus, Eden's identity remained concealed—which was a huge benefit.
After all, the bigger one's reputation, the bigger the target. Eden didn't want to end up like the Primarchs—renowned throughout the galaxy, yet top of every Chaos god's hit list, harassed by ambushes, assassinations, and any vile sche imaginable.
Even a being as mighty as a Primarch could slip up one day. Look at poor Guilliman, still laid up in stasis for ten thousand years.
Gotta admit, sotis Guilliman was a bit too gutsy—like a gambler who's not that good but just can't stop.
Fortunately, after he wakes up, he'll be the favored child of the new expansion, unstoppable with the Emperor's blessing.
But that's Guilliman. Eden's nowhere near that power level—he'd be skewered in an instant.
Yes, staying obscure is definitely the way...
With these pleasant thoughts, Eden consoled himself that he was still a total unknown in the wider galaxy—no problem there. His one ambition now: survive and farm!
He'd gather enough resources to fortify EUS into an ultimate fortress, muster an even stronger Space Marine legion, and let them handle battles while he stayed safely in the ho base commanding from behind. Eden sincerely hoped no situation would arise requiring him personally to fight again.
The roar of a large troop transport reverberated in the distance, breaking his train of thought. Eden looked up: the last of the Storm Corps were boarding.
Soon, the Throne Plaza would be empty. The war was officially over, and Matila now belonged to Eden.
For him, this was a milestone victory. After over a decade in this world, he had finally expanded beyond a single planet, extending his rule over a star system.
But victory was only the beginning. How to govern Matila, reclaim other worlds, and restore prosperity to the entire Sector—those were the challenges ahead.
As dusk fell, Eden—surrounded by his Thunder Guardians—took a dropship back to the temporary command station. Once there, he promptly removed his battered power armor and let the maids help him bathe, scrubbing away the battlefield gri.
Afterward, dressed in casual wear, he made his way to his office.
Tako from the Ministry of Military Affairs was waiting with fresh data. Without a psychic network to collate everything, they had to gather and calculate everything manually, layer by layer.
Tako summarized the war reports from various regions and delivered an overview of casualties:
Storm Corps: Lost about one-third, leaving roughly 10 million soldiers.
Battle Sisters: Lost two-fifths, leaving about 1,300.
Space Marines: Lost about one-fifth leaving: Void Angels: 245 War Angels: 474
Thunder Guardians: Lost about one-tenth, leaving 91.
Then ca losses of ships, aircraft, heavy tanks, Sentinel chs, and so forth. Eden read the casualty report in silence, mindful that war was never sothing he wanted but sothing forced upon him. Not resisting would cause even more deaths when the enemy finally arrived at his doorstep.
Once Tako finished, he departed to compile the final casualty lists for the Ministry of Internal Affairs, who would handle death benefits and so on.
...
Night fell.
A large moon dominated the sky.
Eden stepped onto the command center's high balcony and gazed out. The Throne Plaza below was ablaze with lights—floodlights for the construction crews hard at work night and day, repairing and refitting the plaza with vital facilities. In ten days' ti, there'd be a grand ceremony...
(End of Chapter)
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