Chapter 387: Money!

The Imperial Guard and the Grey Knights have a poor relationship.

Shield Captain Valerian deeply understood this.

But this tension differed from their attitude toward other Space Marines.

For other Astartes, the Imperial Guard's mindset was often contempt, suspicion, and revulsion.

The Astartes, like mortals, were prone to corruption; they were potential heretics, and indeed had launched a brutal rebellion that brought immense suffering upon the entire species.

Many within the Imperial Guard looked down upon these imperfect Astartes. But the Grey Knights were different—utterly different.

The Grey Knights were the Emperor's final creation, a powerful weapon, a blade forged to confront the Great Enemies of Chaos; in the fight against humanity's foes, they were even more skilled than the Imperial Guard.

And in Valerian's view, even the Imperial Guard had to admit that over ten thousand years, the Grey Knights had done better.

They were the Emperor's final legacy to humanity, his enduring will, humanity's last desperate struggle.

But this truth unsettled the Imperial Guard.

The Imperial Guard had never belonged to the present-day Imperium; they were created for a future that had never come—a future envisioned by the Emperor.

The birth of the Grey Knights seemed to imply that vision was now impossible; the Emperor had been forced to use the power of the Warp to constrain the Warp, hence the Grey Knights, all psykers.

Thus, the Imperial Guard maintained a cold relationship with the sons of Titan.

The Imperial Guard forever guarded Terra, while the Grey Knights were confined to Saturn's moons.

But now Terra needed the Grey Knights—and only the Grey Knights could arrive in time to offer support.

If the Imperial Guard agreed, if the Imperial Guard requested it, they could come to Terra.

Valerian had prepared for rejection, for the Imperial Guard now huddled deep within the palace, confined behind the Lion's Gate, unwilling to break free from their restrictions.

Valerian knew Marshal Trajan was striving to restore the Ten Thousand Legion.

But the Grey Knights did not know; they might very well refuse Valerian's request, for guarding the palace was the Imperial Guard's duty.

Valerian had prepared to lose his dignity, to be humiliated, even to bring shame upon the entire Imperial Guard.

He had to do it; at least Valerian had not yet grown so proud that he would refuse to ask for aid.

Besides, mortals were fighting on the front lines—if Valerian did not act, many of them would die pointlessly.

But the Grey Knights agreed—without hesitation.

"We have waited long enough."

"In the Emperor's name, purify the world and banish demons."

Compared to Valerian, Leina's emotions were slightly more complex.

Especially upon discovering that the reinforcements were Grey Knights.

Leina knew little about the Grey Knights.

This Space Marine chapter seemed profoundly mysterious—even on Cadia, she had never heard their name, which was strange.

Her knowledge of the Grey Knights came entirely from two or three battles fought alongside Grand Master Voldus of the Third Brotherhood on Macragge.

Beyond that, her only understanding came from a half-joking warning Zhou Yun had once given her while she was in Asford:

"When you're in dire straits and the Emperor's Death Angels arrive to help, don't rejoice yet."

"First, check the color of their power armor."

"If it's deep blue, it's probably the Ultramarines—unless the battle demands it, you'll be safe."

"If it's red, check if your wallet's still there—if it is, they're the Blood Angels; if it's gone, they're the Raven Guard. In most cases, you're safe."

"If those red-armored ones grow fangs, sprinkle salt on yourself—don't trouble the noble sons of Sanguinius."

"If black armor appears among those red-armored ones, it's the Death Company—pray you're not bald, or they'll mistake you for Horus."

"If it's only black armor, examine their mental illness."

"If it's hysteria, it's likely the Black Templars—as long as you haven't been tainted by Chaos, you're safe."

"If it's cyber-psychosis, it's the Iron Hands—they're as unnoticeable as their father's head."

"As for the Night Lords, though they wear black armor, you'll likely never notice them."

"If it's green armor, check the color of their skin."

"If it's black skin, you've hit the jackpot—it's the Salamanders; most of them are good people."

"If it's white skin, it's the Dark Angels—pray there are no secrets nearby."

"If it's yellow armor, check their luck."

"The most unlucky and occasionally wiped-out are the Imperial Fists—stubborn but relatively easy to get along with."

"The especially unlucky and frequently wiped-out are the Howling Griffins—they're good people, but stay far away from them."

"Oh, and silver-gray—that's the Grey Knights."

"If you encounter them, pray there's a group of blue-gray armored barbarians nearby who think you're decent fellows."

"Otherwise, you'll be returning to the Golden Throne."

Leina had originally taken Zhou Yun's words as a joke, but after all she'd been through,

she realized Zhou Yun's judgments of the Space Marines were terrifyingly accurate. From Grand Master Voldus's combat style, it was clear the Grey Knights would indeed strike down their own allies—mortals included.

And Leina suddenly remembered: she herself was an illegal psyker.

But with battle raging, she had no time to dwell on these thoughts.

The Grey Knights were clearly far more focused on the demons than on these mortals.

Meanwhile, the Grey Knights were slowly contracting their lines—they had no intention of holding the shattered Eternal Wall.

Retreating gradually toward the Lion's Gate was clearly the better choice; they could concentrate their strength to defend against the demons' assault.

"Support the Grey Knights!"

Leina's voice rang through every Cadia 184th Regiment comms channel:

"They are experts against demons—coordinate with them to tighten the line!"

"Hm?"

Leina suddenly noticed the Grey Knights fighting the demons had halted their movements.

Their ancient, peculiar Crusader helmets turned toward her, as if staring intently.

It seemed they were silently asking her: how did she know of their existence?

". m?"

Leina grew clammy with sweat under their gaze.

She suddenly realized one possibility:

Could it be that the Grey Knights remained unknown to mortals, and exterminated those who learned of them,

because their very existence was a secret?

And had Grand Master Voldus refrained from killing her on Macragge only because of the intimidation of the Primarchs and Saint Dora?

Leina broke into a cold sweat.

"What bizarre pricing standard is this?"

"Why is a single phasium transport pipe worth five credits, while a Greater Daemon of Slaanesh costs over sixty-six million?"

"Is a Greater Daemon only worth a dozen thousand pipes? Do we even need pipeline construction in the twenty-second century?"

"Why are boltguns classified as holy relics more expensive than standard ones? Does cultural value count?"

"And why is the Greater Daemon of Tzeentch the most expensive? What if a Tzeentch Greater Daemon is weaker than a Slaanesh one?"

"Do they not account for individual differences among Greater Daemons? Is it based purely on reputation?"

The brown-haired boy frowned tightly; beside him, the silver-haired boy's corpse slumped, its limp fingers holding pen and paper, recording the price of every item.

Guilliman had once done this too, but he ultimately found no pattern—these prices seemed randomly assigned.

"This won't yield any insights," Zhou Yun rubbed his temples.

"No," the brown-haired boy shook his head, staring at the price list written by the silver-haired boy's corpse.

"Precisely because there is no pattern, it has value—it proves your fourth-dimensional pocket isn't governed by a rigorous, objective system."

"It's governed by one or more subjective entities setting prices—and I believe these prices are adjusted in real time."

"Based on the other side's needs, and your current situation."

"Hm?" Zhou Yun's eyes flickered slightly: "You mean—"

"The Future Department Store, the twenty-second century—it truly exists."

The brown-haired boy set down the price list.

"But I cannot confirm it's the same twenty-second century from Dora the Dream—why won't they help us?"

"If it were that same century, helping us would be a mere gesture."

". ould it be they can't save us—but only if we pay?" Zhou Yun raised an eyebrow with a strange expression.

He recalled how the Future Department Store in the original story was nothing but a ruthless merchant.

"Ah, capitalism," the brown-haired boy sighed.

Zhou Yun shrugged: "You're worse than capitalism."

". he point is still money—the price," the brown-haired boy ignored Zhou Yun's jab, pondering aloud.

"I'll run a test—I'll give you as much power and authority as I can."

"Tell me how much those powers and authorities are worth."

(End of Chapter)