We come from the stars, and we fight for humanity.
Our feet tread upon hell itself, our weapons burn with hatred.
Vengeance is our strength, and retribution is our song.
For humanity! For the Inquisition!
Purge the xenos! Punish the heretic! Destroy the demon!
Any being that dares threaten mankind—must be annihilated completely!
In the name of the Inquisition, let wrath and vengeance fall upon our enemies!
The drop pods roared with flame, plunging from the sky like meteors, slamming into the ranks of the Beastkin army with thunderous impact.
"Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom—!!"
Before the Beastkin could even understand what those iron coffins falling from the sky were, the pod doors blew open. Out stepped ranks of dark armored figures, each raising their bolters and unleashing merciless, devastating fire upon the stunned beasts.
The explosive rounds tore through the Beastkin's thick hides as though they were paper, leaving gaping holes in their torsos. The monsters roared and charged, swinging their crude weapons—but their attacks were utterly useless.
This Astral Army might bear the same name as the old Imperial Astra Militarum, but it was an entirely different breed.
Strictly speaking, there were no living men among them. Every warrior was the bound spirit of a fallen Night Watcher or a soul who had sworn absolute faith to the Inquisition. Their armor served as their vessel—like animated suits of armor from a fantasy tale, powered not by flesh and blood, but by divine fury and ghostly will.
Even if their armor was shattered, they could not die. Their souls would simply return to Duanmu Huai's Oblivion Domain.
In this sense, they were much like daemons—daemons could not be destroyed, only banished back to the Warp. These spirits were the same. When their vessel was broken, they returned to the Oblivion Domain, re-manifested aboard the mothership, possessed a new suit of armor, and rejoined the battle once more.
Of course—let it be clearly stated—though it might sound similar, Duanmu Huai's Astral Army was absolutely not the same as those red-armored warriors you might be thinking of!
Because there was no attrition to worry about (although Duanmu Huai did set some rules to prevent "infinite overtime burnout"—if a spirit grew weary of endless war, it was granted eternal rest, unlike certain red-letter warriors who got shoved back into battle regardless), the Astral Army was not designed as cannon fodder.
Through many trials and campaigns, Duanmu Huai had established his own system of organization and command.
First, every soldier of the Astral Army was equipped with standard-issue powered armor. It wasn't as mighty as an Inquisitor's exo-suit, but far beyond any ordinary soldier's protection. More importantly, it could be mass-produced with ease.
Second was their combat structure—modeled after the ancient doctrines of Duanmu Huai's forebears: three soldiers per squad, three squads per unit. In other words, each strike team operated as a nine-man cell, independently executing operations on the battlefield.
This allowed for maximum flexibility—one squad advanced head-on, one flanked, and one remained in reserve or handled logistics. In any situation, the small units could adapt fluidly—maintaining continuous pressure, avoiding encirclement, and infiltrating enemy formations like quicksilver seeping through cracks.
From this, it was fair to say Duanmu Huai's sacred number was three (he'd probably even laugh and agree).
After all—one becomes two, two becomes three, and from three, ten thousand things are born… it made perfect sense.
Duanmu Huai himself led one such team.
Wielding his thunder hammer, he charged in the vanguard. On his massive pauldrons—now large enough to serve as armchairs—sat Olgis on one side and Bambi on the other.
Olgis unleashed razor-like silk threads, weaving them into weapons that scythed through the Beastkin ranks, while Bambi summoned swarms of bats to obscure the enemy's sight and disrupt their advance. Duanmu Huai surged through the chaos like a living storm, his hammer smashing every Beastkin that dared cross his path.
Behind him marched the second squad—Anne, Firin, and Ranni—the spellcasters. Their role was to unleash devastating area fire.
Ranni raised her staff high, summoning a dark moon that streaked toward the enemy army. When it burst, Anne's flames and Firin's frost followed in its wake, engulfing the Beastkin in a cataclysm of fire and ice that left nothing standing.
Their destructive might was amplified by the third squad—led by Lorena, accompanied by the Seraphim of Melody and the Herald Angels. Singing sacred hymns, they invoked the Celestial Chorus, blessing every Astral warrior with enhanced strength and endurance.
Originally, Duanmu Huai had hoped to assign at least one angel to every Astral squad. Even if angels weren't the deadliest in offense, they were invaluable for support and healing. But there simply weren't enough angels to go around—many still had to maintain the Oblivion Domain itself—so only a few elite teams had direct angelic backup.
Against such a force, the Beastkin had no chance.
Their bullets clanged harmlessly off the Astral warriors' armor, while bolter rounds tore them apart in return. Realizing the hopelessness of their situation, the surviving Beastkin began to retreat in panic.
Hmm, well—at least that proved they definitely weren't Orks.
What… what are these things?
Lying amidst the rubble, Kate stared wide-eyed at the towering armored soldiers marching past her. She had just watched the once-dreaded Beastkin being torn apart like straw dolls before these iron giants, their army utterly obliterated.
Could they be from the Vayun Government?
No… they didn't look like it. In fact, they didn't even look human.
Each of them stood over two meters tall—bigger even than most Beastkin.
"Ugh…"
Kate struggled to her feet, limping after the armored warriors. She expected them to do something—maybe question her, maybe help—but they paid her no mind at all, moving forward with machine-like discipline.
When the fighting ended, they regrouped on an open plaza. Kate followed, watching as the steel soldiers formed ranks and stood silently at rest. On the far side of the square, she saw a much larger warrior in black armor standing among them, speaking with several others.
The moment she laid eyes on him, a crushing wave of pressure and fear struck her like a physical blow. Her vision went black; she nearly fainted.
Pain at the back of her head snapped her back to awareness. She realized she was face-down on the ground. Trembling, she forced herself upright and dared another glance at the black giant. The fear remained, heavy as a mountain—but she managed to stay conscious this time.
That was when she noticed the others standing near him.
Several young girls—ordinary-looking, even delicate.
Who are they? What are they doing here?
Despite her confusion, their calm expressions suggested these armored warriors weren't enemies. Gritting her teeth, Kate steadied herself and started walking toward them.
"Hey! Hey!"
She called out, waving her arm. The group turned. The black warrior looked up, meeting her gaze for a moment. He said nothing, but the girls beside him glanced at her curiously as she approached.
"...Thank you—for killing those Beastkin."
Kate managed a shaky bow. The black warrior nodded slightly.
"No need to thank us. It was our duty."
"Phew…"
Relief washed over her. Whatever they were, at least they could speak her language—that meant they weren't enemies.
"Still, I have to thank you," she continued. "If it weren't for you, those damned Beastkin would've dragged me off by now. I'm Kate, a caravan guard for the wanderers…"
She raised her battered rifle as proof.
"A wanderer's guard?"
"Yes. I was escorting a group of refugees to a new settlement, but we were ambushed by Beastkin halfway there…"
She turned toward the wasteland where the refugees had fled. There was nothing left now but corpses.
"Damn it…"
They were gone—taken by the Beastkin.
"You're a wanderer… then you must know this area well?"
Duanmu Huai asked, his deep, rumbling voice breaking the silence.
"Yeah. Fairly well."
"Good. Then can you lead us to the Beastkin's nest?"
"Eh—?!"
Kate froze, eyes wide, staring at the black-armored giant as if she'd misheard him.
Someone wanted to voluntarily go to the Beastkin's lair?
(End of Chapter)