Inside the Orks' fortress, a surging green tide stalled the advance of the 1st Regiment of the Mordian Iron Guard.
With every passing moment, every single Malcador Defender tank killed dozens of greenskins.
But there were simply too many. Even though countless Orks were cut down in the melee, their numbers inside the fortress still exceeded hundreds of millions.
Mikhaeli noticed the Iron Guard bogging down and deployed his trump card.
The Siege Dreadnoughts strode forward with thunderous steps, crushing rubble beneath their feet as they advanced.
From their right arms, inferno cannons spewed torrents of burning promethium. As the weapons swept side to side, streams of fire consumed the charging greenskins.
Numbers meant nothing before annihilation. Orks turned to ash under the blazing flood.
Bullets and shells rained down like hail against the black-armored giants. Their thick dreadnought plating was pitted with craters, banners torn into tatters.
Caked in dust, the Siege Dreadnoughts marched on, unstoppable. No Ork could slow them. They stormed toward the looming Waaagh towers.
Their left arms bore assault drills, whirring as they tore into steel. Built-in heavy flamers roared, spitting fire.
One by one, Waaagh towers were set alight. Within seconds, the patchwork iron structures collapsed into slag.
As the towers fell, the psychic "green fog" inside the Orks' minds ebbed like a receding tide.
The 11th Legion's advantage grew. Shadows of Order moved with armored columns, sweeping through the city in a net, cleansing the greenskins.
Mikhaeli, a Midnight Poet, advanced while reciting verse:
"The eternal night of Mordian,
The realm where the sun has fallen,
Darkness spun into a cocoon…"
On the chaotic battlefield, his recital seemed entirely out of place.
But wherever his voice carried, Orks faltered, their eyes heavy, their thoughts clouded.
Then, with bolt pistol in hand, Mikhaeli calmly executed them.
He cut a bloody path toward the fortress center, when suddenly a hulking Ork boss charged out, wielding a grotesque weapon.
The crude chainsword it carried resembled the Shadows' own, but was studded with spikes and dangling chains, thrashing wildly as it swung.
The greenskin crashed into an Astartes. With a snap of his arm, the Ork's chains whipped out like serpents, ensnaring the warrior's limbs.
The boss roared with laughter as the weapon's motor screamed, sawing through power armor and the Astartes within, cleaving both in half.
The giant corpse fell with a heavy thud.
Mikhaeli lunged at the greenskin warboss, power sword carving down with the Otsberg-Vaya Seventh Form.
The Ork swung back, their weapons clashing. The impact numbed Mikhaeli's arm.
Startled, he realized for the first time since becoming a Shadow of Order that his strength was being overmatched.
Veins bulged at his temple as he strained to keep hold of his sword.
The Ork boss, enraged by the deadlock, bellowed as the green psychic haze filled his mind, voices of Gork and Mork howled in his ears.
He stomped forward, shaking the ground.
With unnatural precision, the Ork's chains lashed toward Mikhaeli's arms and legs.
He parried furiously, slashing them aside, but his mind reeled. This wasn't crude brawling; the Ork's movements transcended mere swordsmanship.
Mikhaeli's voice rose in verse:
"The eternal night of Mordian…"
The world around him dimmed into silence. The Ork's weapon slowed, caught in the grip of his words.
The Midnight Poet struck, sword cutting straight toward the warlord's chest.
But just as the blade neared, the Ork roared with raw fury:
"WAAAGH!"
The surrounding Orks echoed the cry, the warboss's mind snapping back into focus.
He swung, weapon screaming as it met the power sword head-on.
Mikhaeli's eyes widened, the beast had broken free of his verse.
He started to withdraw, seeking a new opening, when suddenly his eyes went jet-black, pupils drowned in darkness.
Instead of retreat, he pressed forward, unleashing the Otsberg-Vaya Twenty-Third Form. His blade slipped past the Ork's weapon and cut deep into its chest.
The disruptor field crackled and tore the creature apart.
As the corpse fell, Mikhaeli whispered:
"I have mastered the Warp Insight inherited from the Gene-Father"
With the boss slain, he pressed the attack, cutting down more greenskins while still issuing orders across command channels.
"Mikhaeli, my 3rd Company has breached the Ork line and is purging the fortress from the north."
"Well done, Grzegorz."
Almost immediately, Karlo's voice followed:
"Mikhaeli, the 5th Chapter has broken through from the east and west. The greenskins are collapsing."
The joint assaults of the 3rd and 5th Chapters raged for twenty-three standard days before the fortress was finally scoured clean.
Flames swept through every corner of it.
When the first phase of the campaign ended, the largest Ork fortress seized, the 2nd Company Captain reported to the Throne of Shadow's Sovereignty.
Nareth's aide relayed the message to him:
"My lord, the 2nd Company and 5th Chapter have cleansed the largest greenskin fortress on the Second Planet."
"The 2nd Company lost 142 Shadows of Order, 23 Vostroyan-pattern Rhinos, and 5 Siege Dreadnoughts."
"The Mordian Iron Guard lost 980 men and 120 Malcador Defenders."
Nareth nodded, then asked:
"And the 5th Chapter?"
"They lost 534 Shadows, 21 Malcador heavy tanks, and 11 Dreadnoughts."
"The 3rd Company, tasked with the main assault, took fewer losses while reaping greater gains. Bukayo's reforms have proven highly effective."
Nareth spoke with satisfaction, before inquiring further:
"When will the 4th and 8th Chapter arrive?"
Though victorious, the 11th Legion had bled heavily, especially the 5th Chapter, losing more than half a company.
"My lord, the 4th Chapter will arrive in five ship-days. The 8th will follow in twelve. Additionally, the Knights of Vextrix will arrive in fifteen."
Leaning back in his chair, Nareth gave his orders:
"Assign the 5th Chapter to purge the captured fortress and hunt scattered Ork tribes. They will rest and recover."
He had no desire to grind down a single copa to ruin. Rotating the Legion through hardship was his design.
"The remaining four fortresses are weaker, their numbers thinner. When the IV and VIII arrive, they will join with the 2nd and 3rd Companies to attack the northeastern and southeastern Ork bastions."
The adjutant recorded each order, then continued his report.
"The Chief Apothecary and Techmarines have completed preliminary studies of the Voidweavers and Wraithbone parasites."
"They've built five prototype hover tanks using Voidweaver wreckage. They lack wraithbone cores and require no psykers to pilot. While weaker than the xenos craft, Mikael's bred parasites proved effective, they can consume Ork corpses and other test matter."
Nareth smiled inwardly. His earlier decision had been correct. Mikael was indeed vital for parasite research.
"Send four prototypes to the 3rd Company for field trials."
"Understood. Lastly, my lord, Thomas and I have sealed off two lower decks aboard ship. We are raising altars there. I will complete the ritual today, as you instructed. Thomas will return in three days to complete his own."
Nareth nodded, thinking:
'Today, I will finally know if my ritual design truly works.'
Arsena left and descended by lift to the sealed decks.
As one of the most powerful men under the Primarch aboard the flagship, his command was absolute. The entire deck was shut down for him.
.......
If you enjoy the story, my p@treon is 30 chapters ahead.
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