Chapter 198: The Liberation of Drune (Part 5)
The Stormbirds roared overhead, explosions erupted, and fireworks spread across the battlefield—but they all seemed dim, for above the skies, true power had already lit up the firmament.
At the core of the capital, light-spears pierced through the atmosphere, igniting the air itself as the Death Guard unleashed divine punishment upon their enemies. The firmament surged like a boundless ocean, rippling with resplendent rays from the highest heavens—shimmering and radiant like a spring pond, yet concealing a maelstrom savage enough to tear any individual to shreds.
Beneath the all-encompassing brilliance in the sky, beneath the trembling heavens, everything on the ground grew small and blurred.
But it was the people on the ground who were the true protagonists of this battle.
Horus frowned, looking up at the faint, looming silhouettes of the Death Guard fleet above the atmosphere. Then he turned his head and stared at Mortarion, who was breathing heavily.
"Forgive my bluntness, but what exactly are you doing, Mortarion?"
The Death Guard—were they trying to breach the capital's anti-air defenses? With sheer brute force?
From beneath his hood, Mortarion cast a sharp, cutting glance at Horus, then looked away.
"The second front was ambushed. My warriors were forced to advance toward the capital—to begin the siege early."
"I'm trying to buy them a chance."
Horus found himself at a loss for words at that moment.
In the end, he decided to ask the question that puzzled him the most.
"Siege? They've already reached the outskirts of the capital?"
Due to Mortarion's insistence, the Luna Wolves had been denied both air supremacy and orbital fleet deployment rights in the second front. As a result, they also lacked access to high-altitude scans of that battlefield. In other words, the Luna Wolves currently knew nothing about what was happening in the second war zone.
Information wasn't being shared—Horus disapproved of that, but he could understand Mortarion's extreme stance, especially after the infamous incident where the Iron Warriors bombarded the Death Guard.
It also explained why Mortarion was so fanatically unyielding about air control—if the Luna Wolves had been bombed by their own allies by accident, even Horus couldn't imagine what he would do to the person who gave that order.
Still, Horus had his own considerations. In his assessment, the second front was never meant to affect the grand strategy. At best, it would just make post-battle cleanup easier.
He couldn't rule out the possibility that the Death Guard wanted to claim military honors. If they had fought alongside the Luna Wolves, the glory of the more prominent Luna Wolves would've easily overshadowed the contributions of the Death Guard.
So Mortarion's request for an independent war zone for the Death Guard might have been a way to showcase their strength before the Imperium.
Though Horus didn't really believe Mortarion to be the kind of person who craved glory, in his experience, aside from Sanguinius and Vulkan, most of the other Primarchs showed some degree of ambition regarding war merits—it just manifested in different ways.
That was why Horus hadn't thought much about Mortarion's insistence on the second front.
But now... the Death Guard on the second front had started the siege early?
Even if the Death Guard had launched an early siege, they would still need to be close enough to the central city, wouldn't they?
This was completely outside of Horus's expectations. The Lupercal stared at his brother, a sense of unease creeping in.
Mortarion blinked slowly, then said in a deliberate tone:
"I was also puzzled by the unusually fast march of my warriors."
"But looking at it now—it went too smoothly. This is a trap."
"I should've told them to halt."
After saying this, Mortarion fell into a long silence, as if overcome with regret.
Horus said nothing. His rational mind told him there must be more to this situation, some unseen layer of truth—but Mortarion's reaction wasn't an act.
He was genuinely worried about the Death Guard on the second front.
And the Death Guard's full-scale orbital bombardment was proof that they were taking this very seriously.
Between Legions, space must always be allowed for each to act independently. Cooperation between Legions wasn't always a cause for celebration.
Of course, Horus had questions—many, in fact—but not now.
He paused for a moment, then spoke gently:
"Don't trouble yourself too much, brother. We all believe in the strength of your sons—they will be your sharpest scythe."
"Besides, once this swamp terrain recedes, the main force can resume the siege."
"The good news is that the Death Guard fleet's orbital strikes have distracted the enemy and accelerated the terrain's restoration."
"..."
Mortarion gripped his scythe more tightly. He gave a slight nod but said nothing.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
[Move in! This way!]
Roars echoed through the vox channel. Atop the wall, a molten-bomb-blasted breach had clearly opened. Branka, half-crouching, leaned sideways and hauled a Death Guard up with a single arm.
Only from this partially collapsed wall could one truly glimpse the horrifying sight within the capital.
At the city's center stood an open-air altar, surrounded by towering arches—arches twisted together from living humans and tendrils. The tides of the Warp were now visibly bleeding into reality, and behind the arch, an enormous tentacle writhed—its many eyes staring brazenly at the Death Guard.
Even from the city's edge, the wails of those bound into the arches could be heard.
Overhead, Stormbirds circled dutifully, clearing out the masses below and intercepting attacks aimed at Hades.
Hades kept a measured distance from the veterans. Wherever his black domain spread, people fell like wheat, but clearly the enemy had figured out that his power only affected soul-bound entities within a certain radius. The mob no longer surged toward him—instead, they pulled back, retreating into the massive tentacles at the city's heart.
In the distance, that giant tentacle—so massive it filled nearly a third of the visible horizon—began to split. New, slender tendrils extended, wrapped around dense chunks of crushed flesh that stood taller than a man. Amid the meat, pieces of steel and concrete could be seen faintly embedded.
The tentacles recoiled—then suddenly lashed forward, hurling themselves straight at Hades!
He could even see the white vapor trails caused by the meat chunks breaking the sound barrier!
Following that first chunk was an entire barrage—a mass of flesh that almost completely covered his field of vision.
Hades was dumbfounded. He had never seen anything like this. His Black Domain reached out—and aside from faint traces of human souls, all he saw was a massive wave of raw, flying flesh hurtling toward him.
He tried to dodge, but the enemy was clearly predicting his movements. For a moment, it was like a rain of flesh engulfing the entire area.
One of those things alone probably wouldn't kill him—but what about what came next?
[Requesting bombing support.]
[Acknowledged.]
The Stormbirds began their bombardment. At first, it successfully reduced the amount of flesh raining down on Hades. But soon, the tentacles began targeting the Stormbirds as well, turning the sky into complete chaos—a sky filled with fire and flesh alike.
[Hades, shrink your Black Domain!]
Branka's voice came through, and Hades silently withdrew his field. The veterans quickly closed in, the entire squad moving rapidly toward their designated plaza. These well-trained warriors unleashed a constant barrage of gunfire, reducing the momentum of the meat projectiles from the front—then took turns charging forward, shoulder-slamming open a path through sheer force and coordination.
[Stormbirds cannot land.]
[Repeat: unable to land.]
The enemy's long-range bombardment had disrupted the evacuation plan, forcing the Stormbirds into evasive maneuvers, struggling just to stay aloft against the onslaught of flying flesh.
Before this, apart from some basic anti-air systems left behind by former human nations, no one had ever imagined these xenos could launch long-range attacks—and in such a grotesque fashion.
It was clear now that this ranged assault was limited to the central city zone.
What now? If they couldn't retreat, then…
Hades's mind was racing, calculating every possible angle for ensuring the team's safe extraction.
[Hades, can your Black Domain deal with that xeno?]
From Hades's perspective, at the core of the massive tentacle, a piercing and dazzling psionic light flared—like it was lighting up the entire psychic space in this region.
But Hades knew that because the creature was diverting most of its psionic power to defend against the orbital light-spears attacking from above the capital, it had very little energy left to manipulate.
If he compressed his Black Domain to the absolute limit…
Hades gritted his teeth. It was possible. A gamble.
[It's worth a try.]
He could take that risk. But what about the others—?
[We'll cover you. Get close.]
Branka cut through his thoughts.
Hades took a deep breath. He understood what Branka meant.
This was his moment. He had to go.
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