Alex was well aware of the Achilles' heel of these Space Marine Chapters.
When dealing with ordinary Chapters, his strategy was always simple and effective—a brief meeting, a few seemingly casual conversations, coupled with the gift of the precious Saturn Terminator Power Armor, were enough to make these battle-hardened warriors serve him.
This ancient Power Armor was priceless to any non-founding Chapter.
Its exquisite craftsmanship and superior performance were enough to make an entire Chapter willingly undertake even the most dangerous, suicidal missions for Alex.
Alex often lamented that the Astartes and the entire Imperium were ruined by the two things called 'honor' and 'brotherhood'.
How many things in the galaxy had been messed up because of these two ethereal concepts.
But ironically, it was this almost fanatical sense of honor that became his most exploitable weakness.
These Space Marines would unhesitatingly go through fire and water for a simple promise.
This almost obsessive spirit, for Alex, was an excellent opportunity to bestow favors.
He understood the Astartes' way of thinking too well—every gift was not gratuitous, but a carefully planned open conspiracy.
Those precious Saturn Terminator Armors, ancient holy relics, and even the urgently needed supplies for the Chapter, were all bait he cast out.
The Chapters could, of course, refuse, but who could resist such temptation? And once accepted, they had to bear a heavy debt of honor.
For Astartes Monks, a debt of honor was no joke, but a vow heavier than life itself.
To repay such a debt, they might even defy Imperial decrees and turn against former allies.
The Badab War was the clearest example—certain Chapters, merely because they owed Huron a debt of honor, had no choice but to side with the rebels, ultimately paying a heavy price, fighting almost to the last man.
Because of this, in the eyes of an Astartes Chapter, a debt of honor was a sacred oath that had to be fulfilled, even if the cost was the Chapter's continued existence.
They would rather be completely annihilated than violate this heavy promise.
Even the renowned nine founding Chapters were not exempt from this set of rules.
However, these ancient Chapters, with their ten thousand years of heritage, had a more dignified way of repayment—they would not easily die for others like ordinary Chapters, but would fulfill their promises through more comfortable means such as political asylum, strategic support, or technological sharing.
These behemoths, with ten thousand years of history and resources spanning an entire Star District, had every decision affecting the nerves of the Imperium.
They deeply understood the weight of a debt of honor, and therefore never made promises lightly.
But even proud warriors like the Blood Angels, or stubborn fortress guardians like the Imperial Fists, when that Saturn Terminator Armor was placed before them, their gaze would involuntarily linger.
Especially when they realized that Alex's Sub-Sector could continuously produce these precious pieces of equipment that should have been long lost, that self-restraint became even more difficult.
The Blood Angels sent a Captain to discuss the issues concerning the Blood Knights and Flesh Tearers Chapters with Alex.
This Astartes, clad in crimson Power Armor, strode with heavy steps into the reception room; his Power Armor gleamed with a dark red luster under the lights, and the Blood Angels' insignia on his shoulder pads shone brightly.
Alex couldn't help but take a few extra glances at this Captain, for he was very different from ordinary Astartes.
His physique was several points taller than that of a typical Space Marine, and his every movement carried a unique elegance, a noble demeanor peculiar to the Blood Angels' progeny.
But what was most striking was his face—a golden mask covered the right half of his face, intricately carved with the Blood Angels' emblem.
And his expression seemed to be fixed in a twisted, terrifying grin, a smile that was both eternal mockery and silent wail.
This feature was so distinct that even before he spoke, Alex already knew his name: Erasmus Tycho, Captain of the Blood Angels' Third Company, hero of the Second Armageddon War.
It was rumored that he had fought in a bloody melee with Orks during the Armageddon War, and his face was disfigured in that battle by a fatal psychic attack from an Ork Weirdboy.
That terrifying psychic flame not only burned his face but also permanently fixed his expression in the painful smile of the moment he was wounded, forcing him to wear a mask to conceal his disfigured face.
"Chapter Master Dante ordered me to come," Tycho's voice came from behind the mask, low and hoarse, with a metallic echo.
His face, a mix of metal and flesh, cast fragmented shadows in the reception room's lighting, the cold light reflected by the mask contrasting sharply with his exposed left cheek.
"Matters concerning the Blood Knights and Flesh Tearers Chapters require your judgment," Tycho said, bowing slightly; this elegant gesture formed a huge contrast with his grim face covered by the golden mask, as if an angel and a demon coexisted within one body.
He directly stated his purpose, his voice echoing metallically through the mask: "These two Chapters proved their loyalty during the Rostov Expedition; they have washed away some of their disgrace with blood and sacrifice.
Chapter Master Dante hopes that you, as an Inquisitor Lord, can issue an official document acknowledging their merits."
At this point, he paused, his left eye, uncovered by the mask, narrowed slightly, and he conveyed Chapter Master Dante's arrangement: "Until the Terra High Lords Council retracts their judgment of 'traitor' against these two Chapters, Chapter Master Dante suggests that they can temporarily seek refuge under your command, stationed in the Rostov Sub-Sector."
Alex immediately understood Dante's plan—this would not only give him temporary command of the two Chapters but also give the Blood Angels an opportunity to clear the names of these two successor Chapters.
"Your certification document will help the Blood Angels plead for their pardon before the Terra High Lords Council," Tycho added, his voice noticeably emphasizing "High Lords of Terra," a strange glint in his eyes: "Originally, Captain Mephisto was to come personally, but due to an unexpected situation within the Chapter, I am conveying this on his behalf."
A subtle hint of regret was in his tone.
However, Captain Tycho had not yet fully stated his purpose when he saw the Saturn Terminator Armor that Alex was preparing to gift to the Blood Angels.
This battle-hardened warrior immediately froze, his eyes wide, his left pupil, uncovered by the mask, dilated sharply, and his entire body became rigid, even his breathing momentarily hitched.
He had not anticipated that this legendary equipment would suddenly appear before him, leaving him at a loss for how to react; his lips trembled slightly beneath the mask, but no sound escaped.
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