Chapter 415: War Does Not Lie
While Vashtorr's plan was advancing mightily—
Inside the Webway, those Eldar who had not received much attention from Chaos and the Imperium also found their new master.
Illic Nightspear looked at the tall Knight before him, who constantly emitted an aura of emptiness and terror.
The warp connection that the Eldar once prided themselves on was severed. Consciousness, soul, and body were separated into three parts at this moment. The soul could no longer be perceived, while consciousness and body were forcibly combined.
This made him tremble involuntarily; the Ranger Lord's breathing quickened.
He had never glimpsed such a posture in any Eldar classics or ancient ruins. Perhaps only the C'tan shattered by the Necrons possessed such majesty.
Who knows how existences that should be incompatible were mixed together.
"Ship status nominal."
"Passage clear."
"Vanguard has secured the Drukhari outpost at the choke point. Fleet will pass in one hour."
Inside the bridge, a series of routine reports rang out.
Illic and his companion from Biel-Tan waited with bowed heads, recalling the Formless Lord's appearance, which was definitely that of a warp god, and couldn't help but feel heartfelt admiration for the Emperor whose footprints had even been left in Commorragh.
Arthur, unconcerned with the Ranger Lord's inner monologue, scrutinized the edge of the War Council.
Ramesses felt that the deployment of this fleet on the information port was not secure enough. After all, they couldn't even figure out the situation of the Rock, and somehow recruited a bunch of Eldar Rangers.
These Eldar, mostly young people who couldn't accept the harsh lifestyle of Craftworld Eldar and didn't want to live like their fallen cousins, had no interest in the discipline of the Paths. Instead, driven by curiosity, they chose to explore the unknown, calling themselves Outcasts and Cursed Ones.
Wandering ahead of the main Eldar force, using guerrilla tactics to harass enemy troops or destroy enemy command systems before the battle began, or pointing out directions for the main force in the Webway, was the specialty of these Rangers.
Among them, Craftworld Biel-Tan's use of Rangers reached its peak.
As the Craftworld with the most martial virtue, Biel-Tan's Ranger forces had always been highly bound to their military system, highly active as part of the rear battlefield in wars participated in by Biel-Tan.
These documents contained the Webway routes detected by various Ranger groups, the actual situation within the encirclement of the Rock, and the deployment of Chaos forces. The main force was Typhus's Plague Fleet, supplemented by Abaddon's Black Legion, and some Chaos warbands attracted by Vashtorr's war machines.
Vashtorr's main forces were not found, and there was no record of the Planet Killer, one of the Black Legion's flagships, appearing.
He distributed the documents submitted by these Eldar, asked the Pyrewing to plan the next itinerary, and continued to monitor the status of other areas of the galaxy.
Ramesses was spacing out beside him, maybe harassing Corax with 'Have you eaten?', 'How was the meal?', 'Is it delicious?' again.
The efficient information transmission rate allowed him to extend his vision to the other end of the galaxy, including the Dawnbreaker main fleet breaking through multiple Chaos fleet blockades.
Watching the Lord of Knights work was simply a pleasure. In the known galaxy, few could command such a massive war with such mastery. Apart from the companions fighting alongside him, the rest were lying in stasis fields on the other side of the galaxy.
Unlike Romulus's exquisite calculation of every step of the entire social operation, Arthur always left room when manipulating operations. The understanding accumulated through active communication with subordinates in peacetime allowed him to easily select the most suitable candidates from his command when facing threats.
His gaze shifted constantly, glancing from one screen to another, obtaining information, making decisions, arranging personnel.
This also allowed Romulus to focus his attention on the interior of the Dawnstar Sector, tapping the potential of this powerful sector, constantly pumping blood to maintain the existence of other sectors.
"My lord."
Azrael passed through the War Council hall surrounded by Pyrewing members and came to Arthur's side.
"Faster than expected."
The Lord of Knights' voice was not cold, forming a considerable contrast with that face.
"Although the Webway is intricate, the experience mastered by Eldar Rangers makes up for this. We are faster than expected."
Azrael walked up to Arthur and reported.
"The battle situation is very unsatisfactory."
The surrounding Knights of the Round Table immediately pricked up their ears.
"Senior Aphkar still hasn't fully controlled the Rock. Wavers are the majority, extremists still exist, and there are no clues to finding the Lion. A large number of successor Chapters responded to this call, but various successors are affected by internal problems to varying degrees and are in different states. Some have been defeated one by one."
Azrael spoke euphemistically.
Meaning they couldn't be commanded, seemingly united but actually divided.
Those who were truly obedient were unlucky. Not only did they have to bear the pressure of the most intense areas, but if they were unlucky, they would be abandoned by teammates who were more focused on other matters.
It could only be said that the ideological education and blood exchange work over the years were okay, widening the gap between the extremist faction and the moderate faction. At least now, when encountering emergencies, there was no situation of fighting a civil war while fighting Chaos.
"Heh~"
A sneer came, and everyone present kept a straight face.
"Sigh~"
Arthur sighed, feeling pity for those warriors who died sticking to their duties.
"This war has proven who is unfit to be a Dark Angel, and who is qualified to stay."
The voice of the Lord of Knights echoed in the council hall, making his final judgment.
Going crazy is fine, but it cannot affect the overall situation.
This is Arthur's bottom line. As a human who lived for more than twenty years in a mortal body, he could fully accept the flaws a person possessed. Perfection was a pseudo-proposition from beginning to end, but he could not accept affecting the overall situation because of this flaw.
This is selfishness, this is irresponsibility for the lives of those loyalists.
Taking advantage of this window period, it must be settled once and for all.
Someone breathed a sigh of relief quietly.
"Spread out the support troops, prioritize integrating the Chapters in the resistance areas, then gather towards the Rock."
"Yes, my lord!"
From now on, Abaddon felt that Typhus's resilience was superior.
These plague pigs could really die. It was enviable that Mortarion still retained reproductive capabilities.
On the Vengeful Spirit, he watched the starport that was almost ignited, and the groaning orbital landing zones below.
At this time, Typhus had landed on a surface platform, a large landing zone used to transport cargo or war machines, which was captured with difficulty twelve days ago.
The starport was scarred but still operational. The hive's huge and tough steel structure allowed it to hold up under orbital bombardment, constantly trembling in the artillery fire, while the flesh-wrapped heavy transports of the Plague Fleet were transporting manpower and machinery to the surface layer.
This magnificent building was being corrupted. Abaddon could personally feel the noise of those Nurglings gathered on the starport buildings. They condensed their bodies under puddles of pus spilled by Plague Marines, flowing into the exposed city below like grease or rotten fat.
Every once in a while, a vibration came from hundreds of kilometers above the hive, which was another huge warship scraping the docking ring and locking in place, spewing out countless yellow-green rotten liquids.
Thick smoke billowed. Flames erupting from heavy pressure or artillery fire rushed out from the infrastructure still in fierce battle and the exposed gaps.
Commanders leading the charge died constantly. Countless mortals who lost their backbone were corrupted in the moment of wavering, becoming members of the walking corpses.
Seven Warhound Titans emerged from the smoke, swaggering into view. The Plague Legion gathered at their feet and advanced.
Behind them, three heavier Warlord Titans were advancing with difficulty, the mottled figures of the giant beasts submerged behind the billowing thick smoke.
The city walls began to tremble.
Titan weapons began to fire. Massive plasma, heavy lascannons. Puddles of corrosive liquid were fired from the modified triple-barreled cannon of the Warhound. The sprayed areas first grew strange creatures, then were eaten into pitted holes.
Steel was shattered, city walls collapsed, yellow-armored corpses were thrown into the air.
It was a desperate situation.
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