Chapter 189: Even Blood Angels Need Their Own Greater Ultramar

Zhou Yun regretted attending this banquet.

He had regretted it since the first sip of wine.

It wasn't because the wine contained blood—in fact, both he and Dante drank the version without fresh blood, made from local grapes grown within Bal's Angel Fortress, with every step from cultivation to fermentation involving the Blood Angels.

This was the first fruit wine Zhou Yun had tasted since arriving in this galaxy, brewed using a technique preserved from the Great Crusade ten thousand years ago, said to have been learned by the Angel himself from Prospero through the Primarch Magnus.

After the Angel's death ten thousand years ago, brewing this wine had nearly become a ritual, with blood slaves and Blood Angels alike undertaking it with honor and piety, strictly following the ancient methods.

The wine Zhou Yun now drank was the finest batch, with only one barrel brewed each year on the Feast of Sanguinius.

The ancient technique from ten thousand years ago, the grapes grown on sacred Bal, brewed by the Blood Angels in memory of Sanguinius—only one barrel was made each year on the Feast of Sanguinius.

This nameless wine, stored in an exquisitely carved bloodstone bottle, was worth more than the most expensive Quintessence wine; Zhou Yun had no doubt countless Planetary Governors would sell everything they owned for a single bottle.

But this stuff tasted bitter—bitter to the point of dryness, so sharp it cut his lips, the astringent tannins making his teeth and gums ache, so bitter that Zhou Yun faintly saw the Emperor gesturing to him from the Golden Throne.

Zhou Yun stared at the wine with a grimace, even beginning to suspect that Magnus, after his betrayal, had cursed the winemaking technique the Angel learned from Prospero, tainting every cup with bitterness.

But then he thought—if Magnus truly had that power, he should have cursed every drink Leman Russ ever drank first!

As if noticing Zhou Yun's grimace, Dante sighed helplessly: "Bal is a world saturated with radiation. Not just the grapes—even the people are bitter."

"For a place like this to grow grapes at all is already miraculous."

As he spoke, Dante picked up a cluster of grapes from the table and placed it before Zhou Yun.

Zhou Yun glanced at the grapes.

Their surface was covered in a thick, hardened shell; peeled open, they revealed pale yellow-green skin tightly wrapped around enormous seeds.

"This is absolutely not grapes," Zhou Yun said, holding up the skin, seeds, and shell—well-developed, but devoid of flesh.

As a native of Old Terra, third millennium human, Zhou Yun refused to acknowledge this as grapes.

Even if he had to admit bananas were pure humans, he would never accept this abomination as grapes.

"This is Bal's grape," Dante said, peeling one open and squeezing out the seed, which bore a trace of flesh invisible to the naked eye.

Dante shoved the seed into his mouth and sucked on it—that was how he ate grapes.

"Bal's radiation is extreme, its sunlight harsh, and the Crimson Scar itself triggers crop mutations. We've tried everything—from greenhouses to fully sealed ecological chambers, even summoned the Bio-Sages for study—but Bal's grapes still grow like this!"

Dante's voice turned bitter:

"It's said that before the Angel's death, Bal's grapes were still somewhat normal—but in the ten thousand years since his passing, their mutation has grown worse and worse."

Zhou Yun stared at Dante, expression blank.

The grapes had turned bitter because Sanguinius died? Sanguinius's death had affected grape varieties??

Was someone in the Warp attacking the Blood Angels' wine??

Was Magnus, day and night, whispering curses in the Warp to poison Bal's grapes??

Zhou Yun fell silent, then took another sip of the crimson wine.

His face twisted instantly, overcome by unbearable pain.

He felt his expression now must have been as agonized as Perturabo's when he strangled his sister.

Too bitter. Yet beside him, Mephiston and Dante sipped it slowly, calmly.

"This bitterness is part of our mourning for the Great Angel," Mephiston said, a faint, bitter smile crossing his face. "We savor this rich, bitter red wine slowly, remembering Sanguinius."

"Believe me, Sanguinius would want you to drink something better," Zhou Yun said, glancing at the winged figure shimmering in Bai Guang's light.

The winged figure in Bai Guang flickered slightly, as if agreeing with Zhou Yun.

Kaboro, the Chief Blood Priest seated beside Dante, heard this and frowned slightly.

Though he suspected this man's identity was not what he claimed—a mere Space Marine of the Ultramarines—he still found Zhou Yun's words an affront to Sanguinius and Blood Angel tradition.

"My Lord—" Kaboro opened his mouth to speak, but saw Dante gazing thoughtfully at his wineglass.

"Perhaps we should store some wine from agricultural worlds," Dante murmured.

Kaboro's expression stiffened slightly, then saw Mephiston nodding in agreement.

"No need for extravagance—just agricultural world wine will do—"

"There are no nearby agricultural worlds left," Dante interrupted Mephiston. Mephiston's face twitched as he suddenly remembered: dozens of nearby worlds had been subjected to Exterminatus, personally ordered by Dante.

Especially the biomass-rich agricultural worlds, destroyed most thoroughly.

Mephiston sighed softly.

Dante believed that as long as Bal did not fall, the Hive Fleet would starve within the Crimson Scar.

But Dante did not say that if too few died in the coming battles, Bal itself might soon face famine.

"We don't need to focus only on the Crimson Scar. The Ultima Segmentum has countless worlds. The Blood Angels' influence can extend beyond the Scar."

Zhou Yun swirled his wine, but did not drink:

"Roboute Guilliman built Great Ultramar—why can't we build a Greater Bal? Encompassing the Crimson Scar as its core, the five hundred surrounding worlds, uniting the entire northern Ultima Segmentum under a single Chapter's command."

"Everyone knows Ultramarines gene-seed is stable and good for mass recruitment—but what if Blood Angel gene-seed has its own traits? Lower requirements for candidates? Even the radiation-scarred tribes of Bal could be successfully transformed."

"If the Blood Angels could establish a Greater Bal encompassing hundreds of worlds, I can't imagine how many Astartes we'd produce."

Mephiston froze mid-sip. Dante stiffened, then sighed heavily with exhaustion. Kaboro stared, dumbfounded.

"The Codex Astartes limits each Chapter to a thousand Astartes. New recruits from hundreds of worlds would be Legion-scale—possibly exceeding the old Ninth Legion," Kaboro said, believing he had exposed the fatal flaw in Zhou Yun's plan.

"No need to be so obedient," Zhou Yun continued swirling his glass. "Not all Legions strictly followed the Codex. In fact, the Blood Angels were among the most obedient—actually splitting the Legion apart."

"The Imperium will never allow a Legion-sized Astartes force to exist," Kaboro insisted.

"We can use small tricks. Sign secret Final Bloodwall pacts with sub-chapters. Make the command structure so complex outsiders can't understand it. Create dozens of ship-based sub-chapters to patrol near Bal. Form Astartes enthusiast clubs. Rotate Astartes into stasis fields. Or simply ignore the opinions of certain Imperial officials. There are always ways." Zhou Yun said casually.

"You can always pull a few little tricks—like signing a final Blood Wall secret agreement with the Sub-Companies, making the command system so convoluted that outsiders can't understand it, setting up a bunch of ship-based Sub-Companies to patrol near Baer, forming numerous Astartes fan clubs, stuffing the Astartes into stasis field rotations, or simply ignoring the opinions of certain people in the Empire. There's always a way." Zhou Yun said casually.

Kaboro's expression went slack. He wanted to argue, but quickly realized several Chapters actually did exactly that.

"High Lords can't destroy a loyal Founding Chapter. The Inquisition lacks the power. The Imperial Guard still sits in the Palace, never leaving. And besides, the twenty-nine thousand Blood Angels here are already tightly bound together," Zhou Yun said, swirling his glass. "They all pledge loyalty to Dante."

Hearing Zhou Yun, Kaboro felt a chill run down his spine—he suddenly realized Zhou Yun was right.

If Dante led the Blood Angels and their sub-chapters through the Battle of Bal, he could fully realize Zhou Yun's plan.

Establish a Greater Bal, uniting all Blood Angel descendants. Dante stood just one step away from that power.

But Dante sighed heavily, shaking his head.

Managing a thousand Astartes exhausted him. Managing twenty-nine thousand exhausted him more. In Zhou Yun's plan, he'd have to manage hundreds of worlds and a Legion-scale Astartes force.

Dante looked through Sanguinius's mask at Zhou Yun, deeply suspecting this being's domain was overtime and endless work.

He fell silent, then glanced around, toward the position assigned to the Flesh Tearers.

Their Chapter Master, Seth, was not there. Seth always avoided interaction with other Chapters. Dante sensed Seth was among those seeking sacrifice in this battle.

Seth had come to the banquet—but left before Dante noticed.

"I need to step out. Kaboro, you and Mephiston will host the banquet."

With that, Dante rose and left his seat, walking toward the Angel's Well.

"Do Blood Angel Priests and Chaplains sometimes help suppress sub-chapters' bloodlust and Black Rage?"

After Dante left, Zhou Yun suddenly turned to Kaboro.

"... es," Kaboro said, a strange expression on his face, sensing where this was going.

"Then we could use the management and suppression of sub-chapter gene-seed mutations as an excuse to unify all sub-chapter Blood Priests into a single organization. Through them, we could build a command structure to control the sub-chapters—indirectly reviving the Legion," Zhou Yun said, a smile creeping onto his lips.

In his centuries as a Blood Angel, Kaboro had never felt so restless.

He felt as if he were being roasted alive.

(End of Chapter)

(End of chapter)