"Praise the Emperor, His Highness has won one hundred and eighty-nine consecutive victories!"
"We are witnessing the awakening of the gods."
Cheers instantly resounded throughout the arena, and Roger Dorn directly carried Alexander on his shoulders to show everyone.
Some Astra Militarum soldiers were even so excited when they saw this scene that they took the initiative to kneel down on one knee, because in their view Alexander was obviously more like a mortal god and the leader of many Astral Militarum legions.
"Wilbur, what's going on, show him quickly."
Under the cheers, Allenville trotted to Sigismund, pulling the chief pharmacist Wilbur to help check his physical condition.
"Hiss, this fist is too hard."
Sigismund's eyes turned black, and he slowly let out a breath as he listened to the noise in his ears. He stretched out his hand and touched his abdomen slightly. The spider-web-shaped ceramic armor instantly fell to the ground, revealing the black carapace inside.
"Sigismund, please don't die."
When Allenville saw him waking up, he hurriedly picked up his collar and kept wandering.
"Shut up. I'm really going to die if I keep wandering around. Apothecary Wilbur is sorry for bothering you. I should be fine, right?"
Sigismund pushed Allenville away and lay flat on the ground. He now only felt that his entire lower body was unconscious, allowing the servo skull to scan his body.
Wilbur, the great pharmacist, did not answer immediately. He lowered his head and carefully inspected the injuries inside the black carapace.
The laser scanner worn on his left eye carefully compared the data obtained by the servo skull. After confirming that there was no problem, Wilbur patted Sigismund and motioned to Allenville to help him up.
"You should be lucky that your eldest son, His Highness, is still in his infancy. Otherwise, this punch might have penetrated the abdomen."
"Hey, you're like me now. Let's see how long you can stay in bed this time. You know, it took me a full week to recover."
Allenville dragged Sigismund excitedly, and the surrounding crowd spontaneously made way for them to leave with warm applause.
In this match, win or lose, the Imperial Fist showed its majesty, not to mention the young demigod, who was also a god.
...
Along the way, Alexander was carried to the combat command room of the Phalanx by Roger Dorn as if he had won a great battle. The Imperial Guards also separated a path from the fanatical crowd and followed closely behind.
These fanatical Astra Militarum started by shouting praises for His Highness, and then became more and more exaggerated and even shouted for His Highness's blessings.
"You are growing faster than you can imagine. In another month, I'm afraid there will only be a few people left on the Shanzhen who can fight you without losing quickly."
Rogal Dorn knew that Alexander had wings, but he did not take the initiative to ask about it.
On the contrary, Rogal Dorn liked Alexander more and more as he looked more and more like the Emperor.
"Hey, I thought you didn't know how to compliment people."
"But it's too early to say this now. At least I haven't fought against Juste. I hope I can compete with you before I leave."
Alexander asked the Imperial Guards to help him take off his armor and put on his robes, and did not forget to turn around and tease Dorne.
The two had been together for more than six months, and Alexander would gather in the command room at noon every day to listen to Dorn talk about command skills.
After this period of getting along, Alexander discovered that he really couldn't understand Haolai's words. Although he was trying to change his speaking habits, it just sounded awkward.
When Roger Dorn heard Alexander's teasing, he just walked to him and pondered for a moment before responding.
"No problem. If you want to fight, I can arrange it tomorrow."
"Tomorrow? Let's forget about it tomorrow."
Alexander took out the crown and put it on his head, stretched his aching limbs and prepared to listen to the lecture. Unexpectedly, Donne responded again.
"You are self-aware. Those company commanders put on Terminator armor. With your current strength, you have no chance at all."
"Well, let's learn battleship command first."
Alexander did not dare to continue chatting with him and tried to bring the topic back on track. The captain of the Garst guard wanted to shake his head when he heard this.
In the dark universe, only those who are not afraid of crises from the dark can stand firm. If they lose the courage to fight to the death, even battleships will be defeated.
Machine spirits can sense the captain's emotional changes, and they can even actively change the captain's authority.
Just like the Glory Queen-class battleship Macragge's Glory, even if it is taken away by the Chaos Space Marines, it can control the firing authority of the macrogun array on its own ship and prevent them from firing at the ships of the Ultramarines.
"When you own a ship, the first thing you need to master and become familiar with is the machine spirit, and then you think about how to control the ship in wolf pack tactics or decapitation tactics."
Rogal Dorn took Alexander to the combat platform in the command room, through which he could clearly see the Imperial Fist flagship, the Eternal Crusade, docked in the dock.
This was also one of the family properties that was later divided into Sigismund's, and was the foundation for his formation of the Black Templars.
"In fact, for the empire's current naval power, tactics are not that important. As long as the firepower is sufficient, the battle fortress can be used to push it across, and the parts that cannot be pushed can be solved by jumping to the gang."
"If it doesn't work, you can call for support from other legions in the nearby star field. Remember not to take risks."
Roger Dorn looked at Alexander solemnly. He had almost taught him the skills of space naval warfare. The only requirement for Alexander was not to be blindly arrogant. However, everyone has his own fighting style, which cannot be changed.
"I take that to heart."
Alexander nodded sharply, staring at the Glory Queen-class battleship and never leaving.
"You...want it?"
Roger Dorn had already turned around and was about to leave the war room when he saw Alexander still standing on the command platform and followed his line of sight towards the Eternal Expedition.
"Otherwise," Dorn gritted his teeth and decided to bear the pain and give up.
"It's really shocking. Such a huge creation, it's hard to imagine how huge the Phalanx is that can dock it." Alexander murmured to himself in a low voice.
"No, no, no, the Phalanx won't work, this won't work."
Roger Dorn panicked when he heard this, and quickly squatted down and waved in front of Alexander's eyes, trying to interrupt him from staring at his property.
"Don't worry, my father will definitely prepare a ship for you. I'm too young to be the eldest son. I beg you."
Rogal Dorn pushed hard and kept winking at Caster, asking him to quickly take Alexander to Castia to learn the Astartes transformation surgery.
"Don't worry, I don't want your battle fortress. I will build my own battle celestial body, Dyson sphere, fortress monastery, and the Wandering Planet plan is also very good."
Alexander broke free from Rogal Dorn's hand covering his eyes and looked at his captain of the Imperial Guard.
"Justard, can you send a message to Terra and tell Prime Minister Malcador that I want to learn construction techniques and ask Mars to send sages to teach me."
"No problem, I will inform Terra now, and I will report to Machado personally."
Before Juste could answer, Roger Dorn had already agreed for him, and he had to personally escort Alexander out of the combat command room to the biological laboratory before he could rest assured.
