"Expanding the army? But the codex astartes…" Chapter Master Jolandiel of the Heavenly Lion Battle Group frowned.
The Badab War was a recent and vivid reminder; the rebellion sparked by the expansion of battle groups was still fresh in memory.
Jolandiel clearly remembered the blood-stained record scrolls in the battle group's archives, which detailed how this disaster evolved from a simple troop expansion into a war that swept across the entire Star District.
Alex was, of course, aware of this issue.
He narrowed his eyes slightly, scanning everyone present, a hint of mockery on his lips, but he quickly regained a serious expression.
After all, the toilet paper written by Guilliman—as he privately referred to the revered codex astartes—even the author himself, upon waking and learning that this thing had been upheld as an inviolable classic for ten thousand years, wanted to tear it up with his own hands.
But, truth be told, at this current point in time, not many dared to openly violate it.
Even the representatives of the newly created battle groups maintained cautious silence, fearing to transgress this iron rule that had maintained the Imperium for ten millennia.
"Ten thousand years ago, Rogal Dorn was the staunchest opponent of splitting the legions," Alex suddenly spoke, his voice carrying a clear note of sarcasm: "How is it that ten thousand years later, his descendants revere the codex written by Guilliman as a golden rule?"
He deliberately emphasized the words "revere as a golden rule," his gaze fixed on Captain Galadon of the Imperial Fists.
Although he really wanted to call it "toilet paper," considering the reverence of the Astartes present for the codex, he still managed to maintain a facade of respect.
These words made Jolandiel's face alternate between pale and flushed.
As a Chapter Master of a successor battle group, his access to historical archives was already limited, not to mention that the Imperial Fists' parent Chapter had been annihilated once during the "Beast War."
He suddenly realized that his understanding of his parent Chapter's history might not be as deep as that of the Inquisitor before him.
However, this was clearly not the main point, and Captain Galadon quickly interjected: "Your Excellency Alex, regardless, the codex is a rule that all Astartes in the Imperium must follow now, and even newly created battle groups should not violate it."
His voice was steady and powerful, carrying the unique determination of the Imperial Fists.
Although Alex's words were directed at the Blood Angels, as a descendant of Dorn, Galadon clearly did not believe the Imperial Fists could remain uninvolved.
At this moment, Captain Tychus also spoke in agreement: "Your Excellency Alex, even if the Blood Angels are short on troops, we probably cannot expand our forces by violating the codex."
He rubbed the Imperial Aquila emblem hanging on his chest, a hint of helplessness in his tone: "The Badab War is a recent and vivid reminder; the High Lords of Terra will not allow us to do so."
Facing the objections of the crowd, Alex merely nodded slightly, his gaze slowly sweeping across the conference hall.
His gaze moved from the resolute face of Captain Galadon of the Imperial Fists, to the tightly furrowed brow of Captain Tychus of the Blood Angels, and finally rested on the restless fingers of Chapter Master Jolandiel of the Heavenly Lion Battle Group.
For the Imperium, although everyone knew there were issues with the codex astartes, it was precisely because of the codex's existence that the Adeptus Astartes had been able to maintain the Imperium's stability for the past ten thousand years.
This tome, personally compiled by Primarch Guilliman, was like a double-edged sword: on one hand, it indeed limited the combat power of the battle groups, but on the other hand, it also prevented a repeat of the Legion era's mistakes, preventing a second Horus Heresy.
This ancient tome was like an invisible shackle, both limiting the development of battle groups and constantly reminding everyone of the disasters brought by the Legion era.
It kept each battle group at just the right size—powerful enough to deal with conventional threats, yet not so powerful as to threaten the Imperium itself.
Precisely because of this, although many battle groups did not strictly adhere to the codex in private.
But openly, everyone at least maintained basic decorum and showed due respect for the codex on formal occasions.
Completely violating the codex's restrictions to expand the army was still an insurmountable red line for the battle groups of the Imperium.
This not only concerned respect for Primarch Guilliman but also the legitimate status of the entire Adeptus Astartes within the Imperium.
Once this precedent was broken, what awaited the Imperium might not be stronger defensive forces, but a new round of civil war and fragmentation.
However, this was not so difficult for Alex to resolve.
The corners of his mouth turned up slightly, revealing a meaningful smile, and he simply said: "According to the regulations of the codex astartes, when a battle group is on an expedition, the size of the battle group is not bound by the codex."
"You mean—" At this point, the Chapter Masters present already understood, exchanging thoughtful glances.
"The Rostov Expedition has been a massive undertaking, and although it has lasted ten years and has largely cleared the main xenos from the Rostov Sub-Sector," Alex looked around, feigning a serious expression, "this does not mean that this expedition is over."
His finger swept across a starfield on the tactical holographic projection, his voice suddenly rising a few octaves: "As an ancient race that existed sixty million years ago, the Necrons' power once spread throughout the galaxy!
We have only cleared a portion of their forces; within the entire Mariupol Sector, it is highly likely that their tomb worlds still exist!"
He slammed the table heavily, causing ripples to spread across the holographic projection: "Therefore, the Rostov Expedition will continue until the threat of the Necrons to the Imperium is completely eradicated! Before this objective is achieved, the expedition will not stop."
At this point, he deliberately paused, allowing each word to clearly reach everyone present: "And all battle groups participating in the expedition may recruit new soldiers and expand their forces without restriction or limitation."
At this point, Alex solemnly took out a gold-edged parchment scroll from his Pregnant.
As he slowly unrolled the scroll, the air in the entire council chamber seemed to solidify.
The faintly golden signature at the end of the scroll made the Astartes and Cawl present involuntarily hold their breath—it was the Emperor's personal signature, written in ancient High Gothic, each stroke imbued with the majesty and sanctity from the Golden Age.
"By the authority granted to me by His Majesty the Saint," Alex's voice echoed in the silent hall, the scroll in his hand shimmering with sacred light under the lamps, "I hereby command the Imperial Fists and Blood Angels battle groups to actively expand their forces and prepare for war, recruiting and training new soldiers over the next twenty years, to better serve this expedition and His Majesty the Saint."
As he spoke, the Emperor's signature on the scroll seemed to be infused with life, becoming even more radiant, its sacred light making everyone present feel the pressure from the Golden Throne.
Alex was displaying his gubernatorial appointment—a sacred document personally signed by the Emperor.
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