Outside the cave, the characteristic, battle-rousing WAAAGH! cries of the Orks were replaced by sporadic bolter fire and the advancing shouts of human soldiers.
With the instantaneous fall of the Warboss, the core spiritual power sustaining the Ork battle-will disintegrated, the intensity of the outer battle abruptly decreased, and the Orks fell into chaos and rout.
Ivanov reported concisely and powerfully over the comms, his voice tinged with a hint of relief: "Team B has control of the Eagles Nest Rock area… Outer targets are being cleared, resistance is collapsing."
The engine roar of the Stormtalon Gunship also faded into the distance, beginning its final battlefield cleanup tasks.
Hathor Lupeca stood quietly beside the fallen beast's corpse, at the edge of the drop pod's impact crater, which still radiated an astonishing residual heat.
The tip of her seemingly ordinary noble dueling sword pointed diagonally at the ground, a drop of fluorescent green, viscous Warboss blood slowly gathered and dripped along the mirror-smooth, unblemished blade, leaving a tiny dark mark in the dust.
She didn't even glance at the ugly head at her feet, which had once symbolized endless violence; her amber-gold eyes calmly swept over the battlefield that had just undergone a baptism of hell.
Her gaze briefly lingered on Mikhail, who was struggling to get up, and on the shattered bodies of several Ash Knights in the distance, who were also stubbornly regenerating under the effect of the Belisarius Furnace and attempting to stand again.
In her gaze, there was an almost imperceptible hint of approval, like the faint warmth of early spring sunshine, silently commending these mortal warriors for their iron will to persevere until the last moment in the storm of destruction, never yielding, and the immortal resilience bestowed by the Emperor.
Mikhail lay on a cold, sharp pile of scrap metal, his MK10 Power Armor's servo-systems struggling to restart and unlock, emitting faint resetting sounds, as his superhuman genetic enhancements slowly and effectively suppressed the severe pain from organ vibrations and repaired minor damage.
But he had seen the incredible, counter-intuitive scene that had just unfolded with absolute clarity.
Administrative secretary? A clerk in the Governor's office?
No! That instantaneous display of speed beyond physical laws, terrifyingly exquisite skill, and absolute power like crushing an ant when facing a war beast…
That was not human! Not mortal!
That was an existence far beyond his comprehension as an Astartes, completely overturning all his perceptions!
Cold despair was replaced by a deeper reverence, stemming from the instinct of life, and an unspeakable, soul-level shock and realization.
Hathor's gaze finally rested on Mikhail, her eyes clear and profound, like ancient, unchanging stars, yet seemingly piercing through the damaged ceramite armor, life support systems, muscles, and bones, directly projecting onto his soul, which was violently fluctuating from severe injury, shock, and intense cognitive impact.
Compared to the Warbosses she had personally slain during the distant Great Crusade Era against the Ork Empire, this fellow was a joke—not big enough, not green enough, and certainly not WAAAGH! enough.
She knew, of course, that ever since she had personally brought an end to Urlakk Urg, the Ork super-warlord who had once threatened the nascent Imperium, causing that galaxy-spanning Ork Empire to fragment, the Orks had inevitably declined.
But even so, the weakness of this opponent still fell below her imaginable bottom line.
Even the six so-called "Beasts" that emerged during the later Beast Wars—which one wasn't a colossal creature the size of a Stompa, with tusks as thick as tree trunks?
Those were terrifying entities that forced even the Imperial Fists and Iron Warriors, long-standing rivals, to unite.
And this thing here? It wasn't even worth a Grot at the feet of those "Beasts"!
"Mission accomplished, Warboss eliminated." Hathor pressed the small comm bead on her earlobe, reporting to Alex with a steady voice.
"You sound unenthusiastic? Didn't the long-awaited return to the battlefield satisfy you?" Alex's inquiring voice came from the other end of the comm bead.
Hathor sighed softly: "The enemy was too weak; it wasn't even a warm-up. While it would indeed be a difficult target for a regular Astartes, even if you sent down a squad of Terminators or Bladeguard Veterans, they could handle it."
"Haha, the capable do more work. If I sent them down, how could the efficiency compare to yours?" Alex chuckled, then added, "Besides, we didn't bring Terminators or Bladeguard on this operation, did we?"
Hathor also knew that the Third and Fourth Companies participating in this operation were composed almost entirely of newly-inducted warriors and a small number of veteran NCOs; they had performed quite well to achieve this result.
The company organization indeed lacked specialists for confronting heavy elite units, such as Terminators or Bladeguard Veterans.
When the heavy weapons teams were firmly tied up with suppression tasks on the periphery, the pressure on Mikhail and other Primaris Astartes equipped with standard Power Armor to directly confront a Warboss was imaginable.
"However, this also exposed a shortcoming in the configuration of the Third and Fourth Companies," Hathor pointed out, "They need to strengthen their heavy firepower and, more importantly, professional forces capable of swiftly eliminating enemy elite units."
Of course, she and Alex both knew this was not an insurmountable obstacle.
"Then we'll adjust the configuration later," Alex responded readily over the comms, "Add some Bladeguard Veterans and heavy units to the companies. The modular design of the MK10 type makes adjustments not troublesome."
"Indeed," Hathor agreed, "Phobos and Gravis armor are essentially just component replacements on the MK10 platform; this flexibility is extremely practical."
Her praise for the MK10 was heartfelt.
Compared to the MK1 to MK4 Power Armor of the Great Crusade Era, the MK10 was a groundbreaking leap in both practicality and overall performance.
Its ability to flexibly switch configurations according to the rapidly changing battlefield demands particularly satisfied her.
It was no longer the Great Crusade Era; the Astartes had long since been divided into individual Astartes Chapters.
A Chapter of only a thousand strong could no longer be configured and fight like in the Great Crusade Era; the approaches were completely different.
The Astartes Legions of the Great Crusade Era were front-line armies; they were the Imperium's iron fist, crushing all enemies.
The Astartes Chapters of the 40k era, however, were special forces for special operations; they were a dagger aimed at the enemy's vital points.
Fewer numbers and more complex combat missions meant that the Astartes' equipment needs shifted from fixed, powerful armaments to more flexible and versatile gear capable of handling various situations.
However, the Imperium now faced an increasingly dire and severe situation.
Battle lines were extremely stretched, and the complexity and intensity of threats were escalating simultaneously.
The special operations based on the Chapter model over the past ten millennia, when confronting certain colossal conflicts sweeping across Star Districts or even entire Segmentums, gradually revealed limitations in insufficient power projection and difficulty in achieving decisive advantages at the strategic level.
This model remained effective in responding to multi-point outbreaks requiring rapid, precise strikes, but in full-scale wars of Imperium-level survival, its inherent scale limitations had become a strategic weakness.
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