The Enterprise, commissioned by Ryan from the Dwarf Engineering Guild of Karak Azgal, was an ironclad ship 137 meters long and 25 meters wide. Its primary armament consisted of triple-barrel obsidian heavy cannons, with dozens of Dwarf cannons and ten Dwarf rotary sulfur machine guns. It even had two independent Dwarf helicopter pads, capable of deploying three Dwarf gyrocopters or bombers.
Compared to Fulgrim's Saint Sophia, the Enterprise not only boasted a ramming prow and a chapel dedicated to the Lady of the Lake, but it also featured the latest innovations from the Dwarven Engineering Guild, such as torpedo launchers and rune-reinforced hull armor.
However, the Saint Sophia also had its advantages, including the gifts from the Lizardmen. In terms of combat power, the two ironclads were roughly equal, as both were designed from blueprints provided by the Emperor.
Their arrival caused a stir in Bordeleaux, with crowds flocking to witness the majesty of these ironclad ships. The once-impressive sailboats of Bordeleaux suddenly seemed outdated in comparison. Many Sea God knights grumbled and secretly resolved to expand Mannan's drydock to build Bordeleaux's own ironclads.
The Enterprise could carry a crew of up to 1,500, including sailors, gunners, and soldiers. Of course, the ship had a royal suite specifically designed for Ryan, complete with two rooms and a living area. Officers had private cabins, while ordinary sailors and soldiers had to make do with large communal bunks.
Belagar's eldest son, Thorglin Ironhammer, led a group of 50 young dwarves aboard the deck. At under 60 years old, Thorglin was considered very young and unreliable by Dwarven standards. As such, King Belagar had formed a "Youngbeard Avenger Squad" and sent them to serve Ryan, hoping his son would gain experience to one day inherit the throne, as Belagar himself, at over 300 years old, still had a long life ahead of him due to his Sanctified status.
Thorglin Ironhammer, smugly puffing out his chest, his beard barely reaching his chest, proudly approached Ryan, Fulgrim, and Angron. "I bring greetings from my father, the true King of Eight Peaks, Belagar. How have you been, Brother Ryan? Is your beard growing longer? I've brought my son and many dwarves' sons to serve under you. Please ensure they are well-compensated and well-supplied with ale."
"Welcome, Thorglin," Ryan bent down to shake Thorglin's hand, though he found Belagar's naming conventions a bit confusing. "We're happy to have you, but... another Thorglin? Makes it tricky to tell you apart from the High King."
Thus, the Youngbeard Avenger Squad joined Ryan's forces, bringing with them a grudge scroll and preparing to march with Ryan to Marienburg for vengeance. "Just let us know when you're ready, Lord Ryan."
"No problem. I've arranged a feast for everyone. Let your men eat their fill and rest well," Ryan said, nodding as the dwarves departed to relax.
A large table was set up on deck, laden with Bordeleaux wine and two barrels of Bugman's Ale, along with an array of snacks. The three Primarchs, Ryan, Angron, and Fulgrim, sat down to feast on the ship's deck. Carona stood behind Fulgrim, while Olyka pulled up a chair and sat beside Ryan.
"I've heard people say that dwarves are more trustworthy than humans," Angron grumbled. "They do what they say, keep their word, and stick to the contract. I like simple honesty."
"Dwarves are indeed more reliable than humans and elves, but they can be rigid and inflexible," Ryan agreed. "A bit like dealing with the Mechanicum."
"I hate dealing with the Mechanicum. I only speak to them with my axe," Angron said, patting the cannons and Dwarf machine guns on the deck with satisfaction. "Reminds me of my Conqueror, though I lost it eventually. It passed through many hands after, but what does it matter? Now I have my farm, my people, and my family. The rest can go to hell."
"My Pride of the Emperor is still lost within the Eye of Terror," Fulgrim remarked with a knowing smile. "Apparently, Lucius and Fabius are using it now. But no matter, I'll reclaim it soon enough."
"Lucius? Are you sure killing him won't make you the next Lucius?" Angron chuckled.
"The mysteries of Slaanesh's tricks are meaningless before greater mysteries. They won't affect me," Fulgrim declared confidently.
"Is our father more mysterious than the Chaos Gods? I doubt it!" Angron snarled, his disdain for the Emperor evident. "What has he accomplished? From the moment he created us, he made unforgivable mistakes. Did he think I'd blindly obey him? No chance! If he tries to ruin my happiness now, I'll unleash my storm upon him."
"Looks like Father wasn't always the best parent," Ryan said with a grin as he poured wine for Fulgrim.
"Only sometimes?" Angron and Fulgrim responded in unison.
The three Primarchs exchanged glances and burst into laughter.
"Six letters, a word that describes something Father hates and is most disappointed in!" Angron raised his cup. "I'll go first! Angron!"
"Lorgar!" Fulgrim followed, raising his own cup.
"Magnus!" Ryan joined in, lifting his glass.
"I declare Ryan the winner!" Angron laughed so hard he nearly doubled over, raising his cup again. "Next round! Twelve letters, describing something Father hates and is most disappointed in!"
"Magnus the Red!" Fulgrim answered immediately.
Laughter echoed across the deck.
"Here's one. If Angron and Lorgar both fell into the Eye of Terror, who would Father save?" Fulgrim posed a question.
"Neither. He'd reserve his time and energy for more important matters," Angron said gruffly.
"Correct!" Fulgrim nodded in agreement.
"My turn," Ryan said with a grin. "Guilliman once prayed to Father, asking for the most beautiful angel, a loyal ally and brother, one who would never betray him. And Father sent him?"
"Sanguinius?" Angron glanced at Olyka's Phoenix Flame amulet, thinking of Sanguinius.
"No, Father sent him Johnson," Fulgrim replied with a smirk.
More laughter followed.
"Next question. One day, Leman Russ opened his journal and immediately knew someone had tampered with it. Why?" Fulgrim asked.
"Because someone had corrected all the spelling and grammar mistakes!" Angron answered quickly. "Magnus loves correcting that stuff!"
"Hahaha!"
The feast continued for some time until, finally, Fulgrim found his moment to broach a more serious topic. "Angron, Ryan, I have a request."
"Go ahead," Angron and Ryan nodded.
"Once our business in this world is finished, I wish to become the Regent of the Imperium," Fulgrim declared openly. "I need your support. Ryan, especially—you're unique to Father. Your endorsement and influence would mean everything."
"You want to overthrow Guilliman?" Ryan hadn't even responded before Angron sat up, his brow furrowing. "Alright, let me think... You've spoken to Lorgar, right? What did he say?"
"Lorgar supports me," Fulgrim smiled, knowing Angron would follow Lorgar's lead.
"Good. Then I'll support you too," Angron agreed without hesitation. "What about you, Ryan?"
"Uh, do I have to take a stance?" Ryan looked uncomfortable. "I don't know the Imperium as well as you two. I'm not ready to make such a decision."
"Guilliman is an idiot. That damned codex of his, it makes Johnson weep and Russ cry. He just had a lucky birth!" Angron complained. "In anyone else's hands, with his circumstances, anyone could—"
"Don't be too harsh. I would have supported breaking up the legions too, though I'd have done it more flexibly," Fulgrim, surprisingly, defended Guilliman. "In a world without Primarchs, splitting the legions was inevitable."
"I don't care. If Father asks, I'll vote for you, Fulgrim," Angron waved dismissively.
"And you, Ryan? What will you do for your sons?" Fulgrim asked, turning to Ryan.
Ryan paused, unsure how to answer. Though he was the Primarch of the Grey Knights, at only forty years old, he was less experienced than many of their Grand Masters. He wasn't ready to confront his sons, which was why the Emperor had kept his existence so secret.
At that moment, Olyka's Phoenix Flame amulet began to glow.
A pair of white wings and a blood-red insignia shone brightly from the amulet. It was a warm, sincere light filled with love. Though intense, the light didn't harm anyone. Even Olyka, normally unshaken, looked startled by the radiant glow. "Master, what is this?"
"We are all brothers, sons of the same Father. Why do you always seek to compete, Fulgrim, Angron, and my new brother, Ryan-Malcador?" A familiar voice echoed from the amulet. "I've always hated seeing this."
"!!!"
The three Primarchs stood
up immediately.
"Sanguinius... have you awakened?"
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