The battle in the arena had concluded. The Primaris had suffered a dozen casualties, killing dozens of combat servitors meticulously designed by Cawl.
This record wasn't too bad, after all, they were only allowed to use the simplest combat daggers, yet they faced the servitors' plasma weapons and energy blades.
But Sanguinius couldn't call it excellent, and Guilliman also frowned, feeling somewhat dissatisfied.
Rigidity. This was the biggest problem.
These warriors were too rigid, stiffly executing the same monotonous tactics, engaging in the same battles, and their coordination with each other also showed a mechanical quality.
Belisarius Cawl was indeed an excellent Adeptus Mechanicus sage, but he was not an excellent tactical master. He merely rote-learned and poured knowledge about combat into the minds of the Primaris, and nothing more.
Knowledge does not equal wisdom, let alone ability. Magnus had already proven this point.
These Primaris still needed training. Furthermore, these Primaris had all been tamed by Cawl into identical entities.
Hmm, it seems they were still trained according to the template of the Codex Astartes, which Guilliman had adopted from Erebus.
This severely limited the development of the Primaris' talents.
Astartes are also people, and people have different talents. By utilizing their strengths and avoiding their weaknesses, one can unleash their full power.
However, the Primaris were constrained by a single template; their talents were not developed, and their powerful bodies were not utilized. As a result, they couldn't truly distinguish themselves from the original Astartes.
But the Primaris didn't realize this. These warriors truly believed Cawl's words, thinking they were comprehensively superior to the older generation of Astartes, and were the Astartes' replacements and iterations.
This is both pride and inferiority. They are not anyone's replacements, nor will they eliminate the old Astartes. They are new warriors, a new force.
Sanguinius hoped the Primaris would realize this, to be humble enough to learn from the older Astartes, yet proud enough to break through limitations and unleash their own talents.
Additionally, he hoped the older Astartes would understand the indispensability of the Primaris, not to reject them, but to embrace their strength.
But how to do it?
As Sanguinius pondered, Guilliman nodded calmly and spoke, "You performed excellently. I am speechless."
Guilliman could display such calmness; he wanted to be in the position of a sympathetic older Astartes.
"You gave me an army," Guilliman said softly.
"An army?" Cawl noticed Guilliman's calmness, but he burst out laughing, seemingly thinking Guilliman was dissatisfied with the quantity: "No! My dear Lord Guilliman, not one!"
Cawl's voice suddenly rose, and he spread his arms as if announcing a climax.
"I give you legions! Legion after legion!"
"Let you, let the Omnissiah, let Saint Doraemon bear witness, this is the sum of my talent."
As Belisarius Cawl's voice soared, the mechanical roar followed, and the entire cargo hold was illuminated by bright lights.
At the same time, the surrounding walls opened, connecting with other cargo holds, and countless gravity platforms also descended from the ceiling of the cargo hold.
In an instant, the arena where everyone stood transformed into a high platform, and all around the platform, on the cargo holds and gravity platforms revealed before them, were Primaris Astartes.
They were densely packed, like ancient legions reappearing in humanity's forty-second millennium.
The yellow of the Imperial Fists, the white of the White Scars, the blue of the Ultramarines, the green of the Salamanders, the red of the Blood Angels, the grey of the Space Wolves—these warriors stood all around, uttering a single battle cry.
"For the Emperor! For Terra!"
"For Unity! For Roboute Guilliman!"
No matter which Primarch's sons they were, they all shouted the same words.
Seth watched the Blood Angels-painted warriors shout Roboute Guilliman and immediately felt a chill, trembling violently.
"Does he want us to die sooner so his Ultramarines can replace us?" Seth's voice was drowned out by the Primaris' battle cry, but Sanguinius still heard it.
Although Seth's words were overly direct, they indeed reflected the thoughts of many warriors.
"A bunch of unremarkable rookies," Khârn's assessment was more practical.
"I count twenty-four thousand here, but this isn't all, is it?" Guilliman interrupted the Primaris' cheers with a calm voice.
"Of course not! This is just the tip of the iceberg! Each ship I brought has five thousand, and there are more, more, more sleeping on Mars."
"And there are many more scattered across the galaxy, in all the places I've diligently worked! This is my ten thousand years of labor."
"How many exactly?" Guilliman inquired.
Belisarius Cawl smiled slightly, softly uttering a number.
A wave of fear and astonishment spread among the Imperial high officials, and even the Astartes, even the battle-hardened Chapter Masters, Captains, and Chief Librarians, stood dumbfounded.
Guilliman could no longer maintain a calm expression; the corners of his mouth couldn't help but curve into a smile.
Although the quality didn't meet Guilliman's requirements, in terms of numbers... Cawl's work was miraculously well done.
Khârn also couldn't help but take a slight gasp: "I almost feel sorry for Abaddon."
"He prepared for ten thousand years, finally came close to destroying the Imperium, and then the Imperium inexplicably grew these Primaris... It's almost like Orks growing out of the ground."
Alexander also clicked his tongue in amazement. The number Cawl revealed was simply too explosive; in terms of sheer numbers, it was definitely enough for humanity to launch another Great Crusade. Alexander didn't believe there was no subtle help from the Emperor mixed in.
But a faint smile flickered across Sanguinius' lips.
"Cawl!" He slightly raised his hand, signaling Cawl to look at him: "Your Primaris are indeed very good, but I heard Saint Doraemon's two guards express disdain for them."
"They seem to believe that the Primaris cannot compare to the old Space Marines."
A silence enveloped the entire hall. Khârn and Seth noticed that all eyes were focused on them.
The twenty-four thousand Primaris Space Marines stared intently at them.
But both men were well-tempered; Khârn was dismissive, and Seth let out a provocative snort.
Cawl, on the other hand, was flustered, quickly looking at Alexander and bowing deeply to him.
"My Lord, I acknowledge the great creation of the Omnissiah, and my Primaris were indeed innovated by drawing upon the Omnissiah's wisdom."
"We stand on the shoulders of Titans, and thus we can reach the stars, isn't that right?"
Alexander looked at Sanguinius, speechless for a moment, trying to figure out what Sanguinius was up to.
"Cawl, I understand your fondness for your creations."
Sanguinius slightly raised his voice, smiling as he said to Cawl:
"But I think that now, standing in this hall, all the non-Primaris Astartes feel unconvinced in their hearts."
"You want to prove the advancement of the Primaris, and the non-Primaris Astartes want to prove that they have not been surpassed."
"Why don't we have a spar?"
Guilliman slightly raised his eyelids, looking at Sanguinius with a hint of surprise.
Sanguinius' move was indeed... interesting.
A spar between old Astartes and Primaris Astartes...
Through such a spar, the old Astartes could clearly perceive the strength of the Primaris, making them understand that the Primaris were an indispensable force for the future.
It could also break the arrogance instilled in the Primaris by Cawl, shattering their belief that they were replacements for the old Space Marines, and making them realize that they had not comprehensively surpassed those excellent old Astartes, and even had significant gaps in many aspects.
This was good; such a method could even be promoted, using spars and gladiatorial contests to integrate the new and old Astartes.
Sanguinius chuckled once or twice.
The inspiration for this method actually came from the Great Crusade era, when the Blood Angels, Luna Wolves, Emperor's Children, Word Bearers, Imperial Fists, and World Eaters often sparred in the World Eaters' gladiatorial arenas. The warriors of these legions used these spars and contests to build inter-legion friendships.
As for why Guilliman didn't know... Of course, it was because they didn't bring the Ultramarines to play with them at the time. Guilliman's popularity wasn't very good.
"I also think it's a good idea."
Alexander chuckled twice, then said shamelessly:
"Since my two guards look down on the Primaris."
"Then Cawl, let your Primaris beat them into submission."
Sanguinius and Guilliman, who knew Khârn's identity, were astonished that Alexander could say such words without batting an eye.
Sanguinius' original plan was for the Blood Angels to send Seth, and the Ultramarines to send Sicarius, which would be enough to subdue the Primaris.
He hadn't expected Alexander to actually plan on throwing Khârn in. What level was Khârn at?
Khârn had accompanied Angron for so long without being cut down, once took a slap from Dorn and didn't die, and later took a spear from Sanguinius and also didn't die.
Three Primarchs served him, and he was still alive; his strength was evident.
Khârn sensed the strange atmosphere and, after a moment of silence, said dryly, "I'm not good at gladiatorial combat."
This was true; Khârn's record in fighting First Blood during the Great Crusade was very poor, but this was because...
"I tend to cut people to death," Khârn said sincerely.
So when Khârn fought First Blood, he was always cautious, fearing he would turn First Blood into Exsanguination.
But to the Primaris, this was pure provocation; they all cast hateful glances at Khârn.
"Don't look at me with such hatred."
Khârn had a headache and shook his head, advising:
"If I get angry, I won't be able to resist cutting you all to death."
This was also true.
But Alexander, how did he feel that Khârn's mouth could rival Seth's?