Chapter 41 Farmer's Delight Initiated

Dante moved with terrifying, transhuman efficiency.

He immediately mobilized the Chapter’s logistics and administrative divisions, ordering a complete, top-to-bottom overhaul of the welfare policies for the mortal citizens of the Baal System.

He explicitly commanded his administrators to use the most prosperous, high-welfare Garden Worlds in the Imperium as their baseline.

Whatever luxuries and infrastructure those worlds possessed, the citizens of Baal were to receive—and Dante wanted it executed better.

“From this day forward, the citizens of Baal will never again look at other systems with envy.

I will forge the Baal System into a utopia that the rest of the Imperium will desperately crave!” Meanwhile, having successfully terraformed Baal Secundus, Vane casually slapped down a Nether Portal and stepped through, instantly transporting himself and Karlaen to the second moon: Baal Prime.

The situation on Baal Prime was fundamentally identical to Secundus.

During the Golden Age of Technology, it had been a breathtaking, thriving Garden World.

The ancient civil wars had violently reduced it to a hyper-arid, heavily irradiated hellscape saturated with lethal toxins.

For ten millennia, human civilization on Prime had been almost entirely extinct.

It wasn’t until the aftermath of the Horus Heresy that localized human migration slowly resettled the moon.

Currently, Baal Prime was populated by dozens of savage, highly aggressive nomadic tribes.

It served as a critical, secondary recruitment world for the Blood Angels.

Arriving in the heart of the desolate wastes, Vane immediately initiated the terraforming protocol.

The procedure was exactly the same: construct the Atmospheric Control Spire, deploy the Industrial Rainmaker Array, and aggressively spam Bone Meal, saplings, and floral spores into the atmospheric dispersal vents.

A few days later, the apocalyptic, irradiated desert of Baal Prime was entirely replaced by an endless expanse of lush forests, vibrant grasslands, and breathtaking seas of blooming flowers.

The nomadic tribes were absolutely dumbfounded by the apocalyptic, overnight transformation of their world.

When the Blood Angels descended in their Thunderhawks to formally explain that the Forefather had personally restored their home to its ancient glory, the tribes immediately dropped to their knees, composing hymns and loudly singing praises to their new savior.

Vane remained completely oblivious to his new status as a messianic figure… With both moons successfully terraformed, there was only one target left: the primary planet of Baal.

– The Fortress-Monastery of the Blood Angels, the Arx Angelicum, was an architectural megastructure of incomprehensible scale.

Colossal, adamantium-reinforced bastions formed the outer perimeter, housing massive armories, sprawling Aspirant training camps, and the haunting, silent spires of the Tower of the Lost, where the Chapter imprisoned battle-brothers completely consumed by the Black Rage.

Currently, the entire Fortress was in a state of absolute, frantic mobilization, meticulously preparing for the apocalyptic-scale ceremonial resurrection of the Great Angel.

Suddenly, a swirling, purple-black Nether Portal violently tore open in the center of the Fortress’s primary courtyard.

The sudden spatial anomaly terrified the mortal Chapter serfs, who immediately assumed it was a demonic incursion.

However, the Astartes of the Blood Angels, having been briefed in advance, remained perfectly calm.

They rapidly formed a flawless, ceremonial honor guard on either side of the portal, standing at perfect attention to welcome the arrival.

Vane, followed closely by First Captain Karlaen, stepped through the portal onto the pristine flagstones of the courtyard.

“Forefather!” “Forefather!” The assembled Blood Angels immediately dropped to one knee, offering a deeply reverent, perfectly synchronized salute.

“Forefather, this way, please.

Lord Dante has explicitly requested that we prepare a banquet of Baal’s finest local fruits and delicacies for you.

He respectfully suggests you take a moment to rest and eat before you commence the terraforming of the primary planet.” Karlaen stepped forward, bowing respectfully as he guided Vane.

“Oh?

Sampling the local cuisine?” Vane’s interest was instantly piqued.

“Right this way, Forefather.” Karlaen escorted Vane into a lavishly decorated reception hall.

Dozens of Chapter serfs hurried forward, presenting intricately carved silver platters loaded with meticulously prepared local delicacies, fresh fruits, and several incredibly ancient, dust-covered bottles of uniquely fermented Baalite wine.

Vane naturally didn’t stand on ceremony.

As a dedicated gamer, aggressively pursuing high-tier culinary buffs was basically a core mechanic.

To ensure his localized food supply was never interrupted, he had specifically ordered Steve to build several automated micro-farms inside his Pocket Dimension.

He was absolutely not going to let himself starve.

He took a sip of the vintage Baalite wine.

The alcohol possessed a fierce, burning bite, followed by a surprisingly smooth, sweet aftertaste.

It was a highly unique flavor profile, but compared to the truly overpowered, stat-boosting brews Vane had crafted in his modded setups, it was strictly average.

Next, he tried a skewer of roasted Fire-Scorpion meat.

The flavor was genuinely phenomenal, surprisingly tender and rich.

The Fire-Scorpion was a hyper-aggressive, massively oversized arachnid native to the Baal System and served as the primary staple meat for the mortal population.

“Not bad at all.

I’m definitely adding Fire-Scorpion meat to the automated farm roster.” Vane mentally drafted the blueprints for an automated Fire-Scorpion mob-grinder.

I need to achieve absolute Fire-Scorpion meat freedom.

While the wine and the roasted scorpion were solid, the fruit was…

deeply questionable.

“You guys actually call this a grape?” Vane held up a piece of fruit.

The outer shell was so absurdly tough he actually had to hit it with a small hammer to crack it open.

Inside, he found a massive, rock-hard pit surrounded by an incredibly pathetic, paper-thin layer of actual fruit.

His mouth twitched violently.

He scanned the rest of the fruit on the table.

Every single one of them possessed a heavily armored outer shell, and several were covered in jagged, highly lethal spikes.

I suppose in an irradiated, hyper-arid hellscape, even the fruit has to evolve to be a survivalist.

“Yes, Forefather.

It…

it is technically a grape,” Karlaen replied, his voice dropping slightly, sounding profoundly embarrassed.

Over the past ten millennia, the Blood Angels hadn’t completely neglected agriculture.

They had actually launched multiple, highly funded initiatives to genetically engineer and improve the local fruits of Baal.

They had formally petitioned Magos Biologis experts from the Adeptus Mechanicus to assist in hybridizing the seeds.

The Tech-Priests had constructed heavily shielded, hermetically sealed, climate-controlled biodomes.

They had imported hyper-enriched soil and perfectly synthesized chemical fertilizers.

They had invested years of painstaking research and astronomical resources into the project.

The result?

The fruit still grew into armored, spiky, deformed abominations.

Eventually, even the Archmagos had completely given up, declaring the very soil of the Baal System to be fundamentally, cosmically cursed.

They hypothesized that the curse was tied to the mysterious, unknown xenos race that had colonized the system millions of years before humanity arrived.

Vane finally managed to pry a tiny sliver of flesh from the ‘grape’ and popped it into his mouth.

It was agonizingly bitter and overwhelmingly astringent.

It was an absolute, unapologetic disgrace to the very concept of grapes!

“Alright, that’s my fault.

I shouldn’t have expected high-tier culinary drops from a desert biome.” “We deeply apologize, Forefather.

The flora of Baal is simply like this.

No matter what advanced scientific or agricultural methods we employ, we absolutely cannot cultivate sweet fruit on this soil,” Karlaen said, deeply ashamed.

“If you wish, I can immediately dispatch a rapid-strike vessel to requisition high-quality fruit from a neighboring Garden World.” “Wait…

you’re saying absolutely no method can cultivate sweet fruit here?” Vane’s eyes suddenly lit up.

The unmistakable scent of a challenge was in the air.

“Yes, Forefather,” Karlaen nodded grimly.

“Even when the Tech-Priests built completely isolated biodomes and strictly used off-world seeds planted in off-world soil, the resulting fruit still mutated into this bitter, armored state.” “The Magos Biologis concluded that it is a literal, metaphysical curse left behind by the ancient xenos race that preceded humanity in this system.” Vane stared at Karlaen, his expression deadpan.

A metaphysical curse so powerful it forces grapes to grow armor plating and taste like bitter garbage?

Vane was actually vaguely familiar with the xenos race that had originally colonized Baal.

They were a highly psychic species that actively worshipped two massive Warp entities: a Golden Angel and a Dark Angel.

According to the deep lore, those two psychic entities were locked in an eternal, apocalyptic duel within the Warp.

Eventually, the xenos race went completely extinct for unknown reasons.

However, the human colonists who settled on Baal were undeniably, passively influenced by the residual psychic echoes of those two ‘Angels’.

Several radical Blood Angel Librarians had actually theorized that the Black Rage and the Red Thirst weren’t purely genetic flaws triggered by Sanguinius’s death, but were also fundamentally linked to the ancient psychic curse left behind by those warring entities.

“Interesting.

Very interesting.

I actually really want to see if I can force Baal to grow sweet fruit.” Alright.

It’s time to break out ‘Farmer’s Delight’ and the other overpowered agricultural modpacks.

Let’s see whose code is stronger: the metaphysical curse of a dead xenos race, or the absolute, reality-breaking logic of Minecraft mods.

Vane rubbed his hands together, his mind racing with highly motivated, aggressively spiteful terraforming plans.

If the soil of Baal was cursed to prevent the growth of sweet fruit, then he was going to aggressively force the planet to become the undisputed agricultural capital of the galaxy.

Tell me I can’t do something, and I will absolutely do it just to spite you.

He had unlocked the Farmer’s Delight modpack after successfully clearing a highly casual, slice-of-life farming dimension.

The modpack contained hundreds of unique, hyper-optimized seeds, overpowered farming tools, and physics-breaking agricultural mechanics.

It was designed to completely override the environmental hazards of apocalyptic dimensions and force the cultivation of high-tier, gourmet crops.

To put it in perspective: in a previous dimension where the entire surface of the planet was composed entirely of undulating, bleeding, horrific biomatter, Vane had successfully used Farmer’s Delight to grow a perfectly crisp, incredibly sweet Red Apple.

The sheer, reality-warping power of the modpack was absolutely unhinged.

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