Chapter Forty-Two: Training (1)

On the seventh day since the battleship entered the warp, Wang Ming awoke on a bed specially designed for a Primarch's physique. Glancing at the digital clock beside the bed, he realized he had slept for thirteen hours straight. Blinking sleep from his eyes, he took in his surroundings—the walls of the "Truth of the Imperium" exuded a sense of advanced technology, and exquisite suits of power armor hung upon them.

"So it really wasn't a dream..." Wang Ming mused to himself. This was his first time sleeping since arriving in this world, due to the boundless energy of a Primarch’s body and the warp's distortion of time. Only after several days of continuous work with the other transmigrators did fatigue finally overtake him, and perhaps because he had slept so long, a lingering sense of unreality clung to him.

He had dreamed—a dream in which the Emperor had somehow cajoled him and the transmigrators into charging at the Necrons with bayonets fixed. The memory of those endless, unkillable mechanical foes sent a chill down his spine. "Terrifying," he thought, shuddering at the recollection.

Rising from his bed, Wang Ming performed a simple wash and left his quarters, making his way toward the transport craft hangar. The vast open space there had become the regular gathering place for the transmigrators. In just a day, they had even managed to rig up several training facilities within it.

They had dragged all the Thunderhawk gunships and "Golden Age" starfighters into storage, clearing out the hangar deck. The now-empty area had been transformed into a shooting range for bolter practice, divided by adamantium armor plates, as well as several small sparring enclosures.

For the past few days, the transmigrators had been practicing their marksmanship and melee combat on the deck. "What's going on here?" Wang Ming asked in surprise, watching the transmigrators lined up, swinging inactive power swords in perfect unison under Fulgrim’s guidance.

Fulgrim was not accompanying Guilliman, but rather had stayed with Wang Ming aboard the "Truth of the Imperium." Guilliman still harbored a certain wariness toward Fulgrim—perhaps the psychological scars left by Fulgrim ten thousand years ago were too deep. Before the Terra Crusade, during a conversation with Wang Ming, Guilliman had subtly hinted that he wanted Wang Ming to keep an eye on Fulgrim, fearing he might cause "trouble."

Wang Ming had agreed at the time, more to placate Guilliman than out of genuine concern, and in fact had imposed no real constraints on Fulgrim. He simply kept Fulgrim close by; after all, Fulgrim occasionally offered valuable advice, particularly on the tactical command of Astartes legions.

To ensure the transmigrators could carry out effective operations, Wang Ming and the company captains had read "On War," the "Militia Training Manual," and other military treatises at least ten times over.

"Why the sudden focus on sword training?" Wang Ming asked as he approached Fulgrim.

"I noticed back on Macragge that they have no real combat skills," Fulgrim replied, watching the trainees before him. "Since I have nothing better to do, I decided to teach them swordsmanship."

"Teach me as well," Wang Ming requested, recalling how, back on Cadia, he had been injured by Abaddon's lightning claw, his own attacks little more than brute-force hacking and slashing. Now, he desperately needed to improve his combat technique.

"I will. I'll give you one-on-one instruction," Fulgrim agreed. Once the transmigrators had practiced the basics to his satisfaction, Fulgrim led Wang Ming to a vacant section of the deck to begin their lesson.

Neither donned power armor. Both wore loose garments tailored for a Primarch’s stature and each gripped a training longsword made of composite materials. The transmigrators formed a circle around them, eager to observe Fulgrim’s instruction.

"If you want to improve quickly," Fulgrim said, raising his training sword with one hand, "you must gain experience in real combat. I’ll teach you techniques as close to actual battle as possible."

Wang Ming nodded his understanding.

"Very well, then. Let us begin."

With that, Fulgrim raised his training sword and charged at Wang Ming, marking the start of their training.