Esteemed Lord Luther."
"The war continues, spreading endlessly, with no cessation."
"Sometimes, I even wonder if this is the destined future of our race: an endless galaxy, endless enemies, and endless wars, so that the smoke and fire of battle ultimately become an innate memory for everyone."
"Just three Terra standard months ago, the Rangdan launched a new offensive. Their primary target was the Karkansas system, defended by the Death Guard Legion.
It is said that Primarch Mortarion forbade his forces from retreating. They repelled the xenos horde by relying on the defensive fortifications of the hive world and vast quantities of biochemical weapons, at the cost of two-thirds of the hive world's population."
"Mortarion declared that his Legion had fought continuously for years and had done enough for this war. The Death Guard Legion would withdraw from the front lines against the Rangdan for necessary recuperation.
It is said that Holy Terra has agreed to his demands and has ordered the Iron Warriors to send more troops to replace the Death Guard's defensive line. This is the seventh time in five years they have issued a conscription order to the Iron Warriors."
"It is said that the first batch of five thousand Iron Warriors has already perished. But truthfully, most Legions are currently bleeding and sacrificing. The Thousand Sons Legion, originally sent as reinforcements, sent one hundred Astartes, and over ninety of them have already fallen.
The White Scars and the Nineteenth Legion have also lost tens of thousands of troops. However, the White Scars have slightly better luck; their Primarch has already been found by the Emperor. Now they too are withdrawing from the front lines of the war to reunite with their genefather."
"However, with the Fifth and Fourteenth Legions successively leaving the front lines, and the Space Wolves having been led away by their Great Wolf to who knows where, the responsibility for the eastern Rangdan front effectively falls to our First Legion and scattered reinforcements from other Legions."
"Many in the Legion are quite resentful of this. After all, compared to other Legions, we have consistently borne the heaviest tasks and suffered the most casualties. Yet, for five years, we have never had proper rest or replenishment. Tens of thousands of veteran Terrans have died in the war, but no one has been able to fill their former positions and roles."
"But the 'Lion' (Jonson) seems never to have realized this, or perhaps he doesn't care."
"There are also rumors that he is competing with the Eleventh Legion, who have also consistently borne the brunt of the war. I find this claim somewhat exaggerated. The Eleventh Legion is currently deep within the Rangdan Empire, their front line stretching from the Sol System all the way to the Eye of Terror. However, news concerning them has become increasingly scarce recently. It is said that they have rarely sent new information back to Terra."
"I dare not speculate, but the atmosphere within the Legion is indeed worsening. I've even heard dissatisfaction with the 'Lion' in the corners of the Indomitable Truth, along with discontent towards others around our genefather, such as Corswain and Morgan."
"Hmm... there's less resentment towards the latter, after all, she is truly a bit too... powerful."
"I've heard many complaints about Lady Morgan, but no one ever dared to speak them in her presence. After all, everyone remembers that during the Volraston campaign, a single psychic shriek from her completely tore apart three Rangdan battleships, carving open the Rangdan front line, and even conveniently pulling back a Rangdan battleship that was attempting an emergency warp jump from the Immaterium."
"Sometimes, I even wonder if she is truly just an 'alpha'?"
"But then again, in this situation, having such a powerful psyker as an ally is ultimately a good thing worth celebrating. And for three years, she has indeed diligently fought on the front lines of the war, not missing a single campaign. We have grown accustomed to seeing her appear behind the Primarch with the Five Hundred, which often signals the arrival of a full offensive."
"Many warriors survived because of her timely intervention and assistance. I don't know what those veteran Terrans think of her now, but we Calibanites have always held a good opinion of her. She is trustworthy and deserving of respect."
"Time flies. This war has already raged for almost five years. Most of the familiar faces around me are no longer to be seen. The Legion originally had a hundred thousand men; now perhaps only sixty or seventy thousand remain. But the good news is that although only we are left on the front lines, the Rangdan also seem to be somewhat exhausted. Since their offensive three months ago, they have not launched any new attacks."
"In those northern star sectors, massive Rangdan armies are still entrenched. However, they seem content with a kind of sitting war and standoff. But the 'Lion' does not intend for this situation to continue. He has already organized his forces, preparing to launch an active offensive against the heavily concentrated Rangdan forces."
"Many in the Legion do not recommend this, but as always, no one can defy the 'Lion'."
"In short, the war will continue, whether it is initiated by them or by us."
——————
The Bilefen system was discovered and colonized by the Imperium in the fiftieth year of the Great Crusade, becoming one of the crucial transit routes connecting the Maelstrom region to the northern reaches of the Segmentum Ultima.
This important location made it one of the focal points of the Second Rangdan War. The xenos empire's armies swiftly swept through the defenders here and occupied the system for five long years. During this period, it became a forward base for the Rangdan, with over two hundred Rangdan capital ships alone docked in its various starports.
As the Rangdan armies' plan to break through the Imperial defenses from the northeastern galaxy and invade the eastern Sol System completely failed, this place transformed from a military camp into a mere frontline fortress. All sixteen worlds in the system were armed, and billions of slaves bled dry, turning it into a solid bastion for four million Rangdan warriors.
But in this galaxy, there was no fortress that the First Legion could not breach.
The Indomitable Truth, commanding a fleet so powerful that no one dared to believe it, tore through the flimsy Rangdan outposts in other star systems and plunged directly into the heart of this heavily fortified Rangdan concentration.
The Primarch of the First Legion intended to utterly annihilate all xenos in this system, thereby stretching the northeastern galactic front to a point he found satisfactory. Only with this strategic transit hub in hand would Jonson allow his Legion a brief respite, awaiting new supplies and recruits.
Before that, they still needed to bleed.
When the Primarch's flagship slowly emerged from the Mandeville Point, the war for stellar supremacy had already been raging for several Terra standard hours. The battleships of the First Legion and the blasphemous war engines of the Rangdan fought each other in the cold glare of the star, broken metal reflecting the merciless starlight to even more distant places.
The Primarch of the First Legion was entrenched on the bridge of the Indomitable Truth. Through electronic screens and augurs, he coldly observed everything unfolding in this star system.
Red spots, symbolizing Rangdan warships, proliferated across the electronic screens, increasing frantically with each passing moment. When the Dark Angels' fleet wiped out ten red spots, over thirty more surged out from the shadows.
And behind these minor characters was a rather massive target: yet another Rangdan Battle Moon. Nothing could better illustrate what a colossal monster the Rangdan forces entrenched here truly were.
Just as Jonson was pondering this, he noticed that two blue light dots had also disappeared. That meant he had lost two battleships almost simultaneously. However, this loss was worth it.
Large and small gaps began to appear in the Rangdan front line. Some of the foremost Rangdan warships began to be surrounded, and the Imperial warships continuously pouring out of the Mandeville Point ensured the fate of those surrounded.
Jonson merely watched. He watched his hand of cards increase little by little, and then decrease little by little. He watched tens of thousands of Astartes warriors and Rangdan warriors fight desperately in the void, the trajectories of boarding torpedoes crisscrossing between their respective war engines, like a complex meteor shower.
The Primarch did nothing. He didn't need to do anything extra. A naval battle of such massive scale, erupting in such a confined space, did not truly test a commander's military acumen, because the fundamental elements of naval warfare were already being fully expressed in this close-quarters combat.
Firepower.
This was everything in naval warfare.
To pour as much firepower as possible from one's own warships onto the enemy, and to make the enemy's warship firepower miss as much as possible.
This was the essence of naval warfare.
Jonson knew this. He had known it since birth.
He was also confident that when the Dark Angels' fleet, following his movements and deployment, successfully established a control zone near the Mandeville Point, he would not need to do anything more. The outcome of this naval battle was no longer in doubt.
In this arrogant silence, another Terra standard hour passed. After leaving behind several times more wreckage, the Rangdan fleet seemed to realize that they could not clear the human warships from the vicinity of the Mandeville Point. They began to retreat, scattering towards the nearest worlds. But by this time, many Rangdan warships were already relentlessly pursued by Imperial warships, unable to escape.
Jonson watched those xenos blasphemous war engines burn in the void, feeling a murderous pleasure.
It was also at this moment that he heard the sound of the large door behind him opening. Immediately afterward, the sound of high heels clacking on the floor followed.
On his Indomitable Truth, this sound was unique.
Morgan, his psychic advisor, and his unique 'mortal' advisor, came to his side.
[How was the reconnaissance?]
[Very smooth, Lord Jonson. There appear to be no psykers among the Rangdan Warmasters stationed in this system. I found no traces of psychic manipulation on the xenos corpses.]
The Primarch of the First Legion tilted his head, looking at the silver-haired lady who was reporting the mission.
She was indeed capable, very capable.
It was no wonder Magnus had specially written a letter, sarcastically mocking his 'theft' in a circuitous manner.
He was still so idle.
Tasks entrusted to Morgan always received the most perfect execution and results. Even if he examined the task lists with a critical eye, he couldn't find many problems.
And what was even more valuable than this:
She was always silent, very silent. In days without battles or training, she would spend almost all her time in her room: meditating, resting, brewing wine, or dismantling and writing letters.
But this did not hinder her power from mysteriously growing day by day on the battlefield. Even the Librarium in the Legion had, without realizing it, developed awe and obedience towards her. And at some unknown point, Jonson had become accustomed to making her his first option when facing psychic problems.
She had this ability.
Although in necessary conversations, her tone occasionally contained sarcasm and weariness, this did not prevent her from treating truly important matters with an admirable, cold, and ruthless demeanor. She never questioned the reason for a task, nor did she complain about its peculiar nature. Whenever she received an order, she would naturally become the most efficient, coldest, and most merciless instrument.
Jonson appreciated this efficiency and coldness. In these attitudes, he saw some familiar reflections.
The Primarch turned his head, and through the window before him, he saw his own pupils.
He saw his own reflection.
——————
Unfortunately, she was not his offspring.
Nor a true mortal.
——————
Then what exactly was she?
An ancient survivor?
An unknown weapon?
Or truly, a once-in-ten-millennia figure comparable to the likes of the Emperor?
——————
This question seemed to torment the Primarch more and more intensely, but Jonson was certain that the answer to this question could only be deduced by himself.
Asking would yield no results.
Because he still did not believe every word in Morgan's heart.
——————
The sound of communication interrupted Jonson's thoughts. He listened to the reports from the front lines, then spread out the star chart before him, pointing to one of its corners.
[The resistance here is stronger than I expected.]
[That is good, My Lord.]
The Primarch saw wicked joy flashing in those icy blue pupils.
[The more fiercely the beast struggles, the more it means we have truly struck a vital point.]
Jonson nodded.
[But the necessary plans still need to be modified.]
Morgan was noncommittal. She stood to one side, witnessing Jonson begin new deliberations. She had seen this scene many times before.
The Primarch of the First Legion liked to make general plans before each battle. However, these plans were never very detailed, as Jonson's tactical style was relatively flexible and adaptable. He preferred to operate spontaneously under his broad outline, adapting to the actual situation. Temporary changes and adjustments to any plan were commonplace.
She watched the Primarch before her lower his head, deep in thought for a while. Then, his hand reached for the Lion Helm beside him.
[Notify Nemiel to assemble the Five Hundred.]
[Also notify Corswain and Alajos to report to me.]
[Am I to fight alongside them, My Lord?]
[No...]
Jonson donned the Lion Helm. Through its dark visor, his gaze was hidden from everyone.
[You will come with me.]
[As you command, My Lord.]
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