“Just what I said.” Kayvaan shrugged, leaning ba his chair. “Your presence here is a relief. It simplifies a lot of things. The fact that you’re here means the reports about me are tained, at least for now. That buys me time.”

  “And if I hadn’t shown up?” Edressed. “What if a Puritan inquisitor had e instead, ready to throw you onto a pyre?”

  “I’d have no choice but to run,” Kayvaan admitted with a sigh. “The gaxy is vast, and the Far Easteror alone offers plenty of pces to hide. But it would be a bitter thing to abandohing I’ve worked for.”

  “Have you never sidered standing yround and fighting the Imperium?”

  Kayvaan shook his head firmly. “My training was never meant to turn me against humanity. Astartes are protectors, not butchers. Fighting my own people is unthinkable. If it ever came to that, it wouldn’t be by my choice.”

  Edward houghtfully. This se resonated deeply with the ideals of the Xanthism fa. “I uand. Those who g to dogma without question ’t see beyond the surface. ge takes time and effort. Your existence, as troversial as it may be, proves that chaotic forces be harnessed and trolled for the be of humanity and the Imperium.”

  Kayvaan smiled faintly. “That’s a noble perspective, but not everyone shares it. Sometimes, it’s better to stay hidden and avoid the fight altogether. If the worst happehough, it wouldn’t just be me who paid the price. It’d be a waste of the chapter we’ve been building here.”

  Edward chuckled dryly. “No offense, but your chapter is barely more than ay shell. Those soldiers out there look good on the surface, but let’s not kid ourselves. They’re soft.”

  Kayvaan wi the blunt observation. “You’re n,” he admitted. “Building an Astartes chapter isn’t something you do ht. It requires a strong foundation—one you ’t rely on outsiders to provide. You have to y it yourself, brick by brick. But this world… Reach has been too peaceful for too long. Without flict, soldiers lose their edge.”

  Edward raised an eyebrow. “Too peaceful? That’s not a phrase you hear often in the Imperium.”

  Kayvaan sighed. “The st recorded flict here was five turies ago, when an alieor arrived and started hunting local warriors for sport. The best special forces on Reach went after it, but they were sughtered. It took a passing Imperial governor—w from his offio less—to finally take it down. The story is obviously exaggerated, but it illustrates the state of things here. The military is pt, the leadership is x, and the culture has grown soft.” He paused, staring out the window at the training grounds below. “The Reach forces aren’t what they once were. Even the so-called special forces would be hard-pressed to hahe threats the gaxy throws at us. Five years of reforms have helped, but it’s a slow process. You ’t rebuild turies of ht. The soldiers look disciplined now, and the atmosphere on Reach is shifting. But until they’ve faced real bat—until they’ve beeed by blood and fire—we won’t know their true mettle.”

  Edward followed Kayvaan’s gaze, watg the soldiers drilling below. “You’ve made progress,” he said. “But the real challenge will e when these men and women face their first true test otlefield. Will they rise to the occasion, or will they crumble?”

  Kayvaan uood the reality of building his chapter: he couldn’t afford to be selective. The initial stru of a battle group didn’t rely solely on individual skill but rather on collective discipline and unwavering obedience. For now, the first batch of warriors had to e from the soldiers already under his and. “They are excellent seeds,” Kayvaan expio Edward, watg the recruits drill iraining yard. “Eic, fident, and physically aally sound. Sure, they’ve never faced a real battlefield, so they’re a little naive. But people grow. The Knights Tempr and its warriors are young—still green—but they will mature.”

  Edward nodded, finding himself intrigued. Over the past few days, he had observed Kayvaan carefully and gathered a wealth of informatioe harb chaos-tainted power, Kayvaan remained rational, disciplined, and loyal to the Imperium. His calm demeanor, even under pressure, articurly remarkable, especially sidering the presence of a daemon within him. How did he maintain such trol?

  Edward was also growing ied in Kayvaan’s young regiment. them might provide deeper insights into Kayvaan himself. People often revealed their true selves through the things they built. For Edward, this assig was being increasingly fasating. He sidered extending his observation period if necessary.

  Kayvaan lived among his recruits, overseeing their training personally. For Edward, the exercises seemed basic, almost childish. But for the soldiers of Reach, these drills represented a trial unlike anything they’d ever faced. Training began with weighted long-distance runs. The soldiers wore heavy, medieval-style armor and were made to run along the beach. After the grueling run, they returo the training grounds to practice melee bat.

  There was skepticism among some instructors. Why waste time training with melee ons in the age of bolters and sguns? Even Edward raised an eyebrow. Yet Kayvaan believed in the importance of close-bat training, so he chose to teach the course himself.

  Oraining ground, Kayvaan addressed the gathered soldiers with his signature iy. “Otlefield, your ammunition will run out, grenades will be spent, and your vehicles will fail. Modern equipment may save your life itle but betray you in the . A gun without ammunition is just a stick, and a tank without fuel is a coffin. But there are ons that will never abandon you. Your body. Your will. These are yreatest tools, and the mastery of them is your salvation.”

  To illustrate his point, Kayvaan picked up an a longsword. Turning to the assembled soldiers, he barked, “You there! Step forward!”

  A young recruit so attention, saluted, and marched toward him, clearly nervous. “Stand at attention! Don’t move,” Kayvaan anded. He raised the longsword high, then swung it down with a powerful strike. The sword struck the recruit’s shoulder armor with a resounding g, sending the soldier sprawling to the ground.

  Kayvaan stepped bad crossed his arms. “I said stand at attention! Why are you still lying there? Get up!”

  The recruit groaned, checked himself for injuries, and scrambled to his feet, the weight of his armor making the process slow and awkward. “Good,” Kayvaan said, addressing the gathered soldiers. “You’ve all seen it. This armor protected him. He took a full swing from this longsword and came out unscathed. And this armor is just a rudimentary design—basic medieval armor. Imagihe prote provided by Space Marine power armor, which is ten times strohan this. But the lesson here isn’t just about armor.” He held up the longsword for all to see. The bde was visibly dented from the strike. “This longsword, though fed to be durable, suffered damage from that single swing. Yet the recruit remains unihat’s the value of good armor. Trust it. But now let me show you something more.”

  Kayvaan drew a sleek dagger from his belt. It gleamed unnaturally, its edge razor-thin. “This is my dagger. Observe closely.”