"Sir, an xeno communication is coming through," Sophia said softly, appearing and standing by the command throne. "Should I connect it?"
Blazkowicz nodded, his eyes narrowing. The Rangdan communication came at a very subtle time.
It was neither too early nor too late; the Imperium of Man fleet had joined the battle, and with the ground war going poorly, the communication arrived.
"Connect it," Blazkowicz said, wanting to hear what Rangdan had to say. He then ordered, "Obscure the bridge and my figure."
"Understood." With a flick of Sophia's fair hand, the holographic image went dark, showing only the Imperial Aquila.
The holographic image outlined a floating, dark green brain with golden eyes and an ugly face, its tentacles below slick and numerous.
"I am Warmaster Lolos of Rangdan," Lolos declared openly, not wearing bio-armor.
Seeing the dark image and the symbol of the Imperium of Man, its voice had a slow, halting quality: "Human, do you not dare face your opponent?"
Its voice was arrogant, with a hint of psychic pollution designed to provoke anger: "I didn't expect you to be such a coward. Humans are indeed inferior."
Blazkowicz's voice, processed, was as cold as ice that had not melted for a thousand years: "Put away your crude taunts, xeno!"
"You wish to glimpse my appearance, to have the Imperium of Man's dogs collect information on me?"
"I have never considered you opponents anyway, just a bunch of ugly xenos, filth to be purged by lances of light."
As soon as the fleet contacted Urian, the Grand Master immediately submitted the intelligence, without any delay.
Blazkowicz's words were calm, deliberately revealing to Lolos that he knew about the existence of traitors within the Imperium of Man.
The purpose was simple: he was probing Rangdan to see how much they knew about the Imperium of Man.
The xenos knew nothing about the Noor fleet's intelligence, but they certainly knew about his participation in the expedition.
They knew the Imperium of Man had dispatched the First Legion, as well as the specific number of troops, and had set up a trap here.
If it hadn't been him who came today, but one of his other brothers, the battle wouldn't have been so straightforward.
The leaked Imperial intelligence allowed Rangdan to acquire data on Imperial equipment, preparing them for a well-planned battle.
This demonstrated the immense power of the First Legion.
Despite their equipment intelligence being fully compromised, they could still fight the Rangdan Warriors back and forth, with a casualty ratio crushing the xenos.
Had it been another Legion, the ground forces might have paid several times the price.
"Indeed, traitors within the Imperium of Man are collecting information on you—Blazkowicz Novick!"
Lolos admitted it openly, even calling Blazkowicz by his name, proudly displaying its intelligence network.
"Oh?" Blazkowicz showed a hint of interest, his words tinged with sarcasm: "Then please hurry up, for while you know information about me, you don't know much."
"You know very little about the fleet and technological strength of the Nur Stars."
Lolos' tentacles twitched a few times. It keenly caught the crucial information about the "Nur Stars."
It had no cheeks, showed no expression, but inwardly it was disdainful.
Lolos sneered inwardly, believing that the super-individual on the other side, called a Primarch, was getting carried away by victory, unaware that he had leaked crucial information.
Behind the holographic image, Blazkowicz's lips curled into a cold smile.
Information on the Nur Stars was sealed in the Imperial archives, a top-secret classification guarded by the Custodian Guard.
Fewer than a hundred officials in the entire Imperium of Man were authorized to view the Noor archives.
That was a trap; whoever accessed the archives recently would be the traitor controlled by Rangdan.
If Rangdan understood the implications and was unwilling to abandon its traitor, and went to great lengths to infiltrate the Nur Stars, then so be it.
"I have a proposal here," Lolos said, changing the subject after obtaining the information: "My race is willing to withdraw from this star system and relinquish control of it."
"We are also willing to cease hostilities with humanity and pledge not to expand into this star sector again."
"Has something gone wrong with your slick, filthy brain?" Although he knew the xenos were changing the subject, and even that the proposal might be genuine.
Blazkowicz couldn't help but snap: "Shake hands and make peace? Does Rangdan seem to have a brain, but in fact doesn't?"
"Get lost, you psychic-manipulating xeno!" He waved his hand in disgust, telling Sophia to cut the communication.
He truly didn't know if Rangdan was genuinely foolish or just pretending to be.
After learning about Rangdan's psychic pollution and control, the Imperium of Man had to eliminate Rangdan, and completely eradicate the Rangdan species.
Shake hands and make peace?
If they did, it wouldn't be long before Rangdan's psychic spies infiltrated every aspect of humanity, eventually enslaving the human race completely.
As for abandoning the Morse Solar System, it was merely a temporary compromise to redeem the Rangdan Warriors.
Tens of thousands of elite Rangdan Warriors, the mid-tier combat power of the xenos, they could not accept such massive losses.
Analogous to the Imperium of Man, the Imperium of Man could not abandon an entire Legion.
Blazkowicz sat at the command console, shaking his head and focusing his attention on the defensive line, guarding against a Rangdan surprise attack.
The Rangdan fleet was enormous, crammed into the Chemos Star System.
The xenos' initial plan should have been to hunt him, or one of his Primarch brothers.
They had committed a large number of forces to Morse World, aiming to destroy a Legion of the Imperium of Man.
But now the situation had reversed; the Rangdan Warriors trapped on Morse had become a critical vulnerability for the xenos.
If they hadn't been trapped, the Rangdan fleet might have already left.
The plan had failed, and Morse World was no longer worth the Rangdan's effort; the sooner they left, the better.
The Rangdan fleet continuously assaulted the human blockade, aiming to rescue their kin and preserve their elite fighting force.
Blazkowicz paid no attention to the ground battlefield; the "slicing meat with a dull knife" strategy he had set would naturally be executed by others.
The Rangdan on Morse had to be annihilated; slowly annihilating them and quickly annihilating them would have vastly different effects.
The ground commander executing the Primarch's orders was a Legion Warrior—Atum.
As one of the original ten Warriors, Atum was among the first to study at the War College, showing great interest in warfare.
He was held in high regard by Blazkowicz.
Atum commanded from the fortress, not daring to relax for a moment, knowing he bore the expectations of his Gene-Father.
The Primarch hoped the Doom Slayers would be versatile, not just battle-focused brutes.
On a grand battlefield, a superhuman warrior had a role, but could not fundamentally change the tide of battle.
Unless that warrior could single-handedly cut through enemy defenses and personally slay the enemy commander.
The Primarch required Doom Slayers, in addition to their personal combat prowess, to each be capable of commanding at least a million troops.
Atum took command of the mortal forces and would lead a million-strong army to attack the Hive City occupied by Rangdan.
The command room was large; besides Atum, there were black-armored Doom Slayers and golden-armored Custodian Guard.
Several Iron Men stood in the distance, exchanging information and discussing the Rangdan threat and its mysterious psychic control.
They did not participate in command, but were stationed in the command room, ready at all times.
"La!" He whispered into his comms channel, calling his brother and issuing combat orders: "Can the Atlantis Titan weapons destroy the Hive City's power reactors?"
To instill fear in the xenos, their protective umbrella had to be shattered.
"Yes." La's affirmative reply brought joy to Atum's heart.
"But it's not allowed..." his brother added, "As for the specific reason, you should know."
"Understood." Atum nodded, thinking of other methods.
The Gene-Father strictly forbade the use of special units, and even psychic communication, to test the abilities of his progeny.
He wanted them to capture the xeno Hive City using Noor standard armament.
Under these restrictions, Atum had no choice but to suppress his eagerness and wait for the Auxiliary Army equipment to land: "Then let's wait for the equipment to arrive."
The Gene-Father controlled the overall situation and was not in a hurry to annihilate the Rangdan army; he had requested the "slicing meat with a dull knife" approach.
Facing shields, Noor had special methods to pry open the unbreakable turtle shell.
As the star disappeared, the combat hemisphere of Morse plunged into night, and the battlefield fell silent.
Occasionally, sparks erupted in the night sky as warships were continuously destroyed.
The ground battlefield, however, was quiet. The Rangdan hid within the Hive City, not showing themselves, while their human servants took detours to return to their respective Hive Cities.
Atum was not concerned about those servant armies; they would eventually be encircled.
An army with no defensive capabilities? The Noor Auxiliary Army's armory contained plenty of weapons of mass destruction.
"Sir, the 'City Breaker Cannon' has been assembled." The voice of a mortal technician rang out, excitedly reporting the progress to Atum.
"Good!" Atum rose from the command console and walked out of the command fortress; he wanted to witness the City Breaker Cannon's attack firsthand.
A colossal cannon with a barrel diameter of a hundred meters lay on the ground, flanked by super-heavy treads flush with the cannon. Behind it were four plasma reactors, and ten-meter-thick energy conduits supplied its power.
This giant cannon, named "City Breaker," was five hundred meters long, its muzzle pointing ominously at the Hive City.
The Siege Breaker's massive tracks rumbled, and the gaping beast slowly moved towards its designated position.
It settled into its position, a forty-five-degree opening in front forming its exclusive firing arc.
As a type of Siege Breaker weapon, there are various kinds of Siege Breakers.
Their design is complex; the ground firing environment is not comparable to the relatively vacuum of space.
The Siege Breaker cannon is not a kinetic weapon. If it were to fire ultra-large caliber solid projectiles like a ship's macro cannon, the impact would be enough to destroy its firing position.
At one-tenth the speed of light, if fired close to the ground, enemies protected by shields might not die, but the firing position would absolutely be destroyed by the impact!
"War Lord, everything is ready. We can fire at any moment," a mortal technician respectfully handed over a data-slate, his eyes gleaming with reverence.
The genetic scions of King Nowick, like that great one, were tall and brave.
"Thank you," Atum took the data-slate. As his golden armor touched the data-slate, the auxiliary AI within the armor immediately understood its contents.
In fact, no contact was necessary; retrieving data with a super-intelligent chip was not difficult.
The reason he personally took it was to consider the mortals' feelings and fulfill the technicians' expectations for their efforts.
"Excellent," Atum nodded. "Your professional skills are superb; you haven't wasted your usual training."
It was commendable that a steel behemoth like the Siege Breaker was assembled by ten thousand technicians over twelve hours without a single error throughout the process.
"Thank you for your praise!" Praised by a legendary warrior, the technician stood at attention, chest puffed out with pride.
Atum climbed the observation tower, looking down at the giant cannon from above, then gazing at the distant Hive City.
"Fire!" He ordered via the communication channel, instructing the technicians to unleash the power of the Siege Breaker cannon: "Tear down the Xenos' defenses, and let them fear every action of humanity!"
"As you command, Lord!"
Buzz~~~~~~
The Siege Breaker cannon's body vibrated, and the dust on its barrel shook, slowly falling from both sides.
The Vibrating Siege Breaker was one type among many Siege Breakers.
Within the abyssal maw of the cannon's muzzle, tiny vibration mechanisms were neatly arranged, emitting dense, minute vibration frequencies.
When the vibration frequencies converged, the cannon's built-in containment field projected the high-frequency wave towards the direction the Siege Breaker cannon was aimed.
Hmm~ Hmm~ Hmm~
Like the long breath of a giant beast, the vibration frequency was visible to the naked eye, a white, transparent wave about a hundred meters thick.
At a glance, the vibration wave appeared like a dissonance in a high-definition image, a sudden grainy texture that blurred space and time.
The vibration wave tore apart molecular bonds; the ground began to decompose, ripped apart by billions of instantaneous resonances from the vibration wave, shattering molecular bonds and disintegrating matter into a cloud of free atoms.
Tens of kilometers were covered in an instant, and the vibration wave slammed into the outer wall of the Hive City, immediately triggering a Warp shield reaction, causing the hit area to glow with Warp radiance.
Warp shields are powerful shields that teleport objects traveling at a certain speed into the Warp, protecting the objects beneath the shield.
Only weapons that traverse other dimensions, such as dimensional weapons or phase weapons, can penetrate a Warp shield.
All matter in the real universe cannot bypass a Warp shield.
Seeing the shield block the human siege weapon, Warmaster Lolos of the Rangdan breathed a sigh of relief.
It had to be said, the shield technology of the human slaves far surpassed the Rangdan's energy shields.
But soon, the stone Lolos had laid down in his heart was suspended again.
The siege weapon's wave did not dissipate; the human weapon was not instantaneous but a continuous, sustained beam!
"It's over!" Lolos thought, feeling helpless and despairing.
His deeply grooved brain trembled violently, secreting stress-induced mucus.
He hated himself for not staying on the orbital battleship and instead landing to fight a decisive battle with the human Legion.
After the Battle Moon was destroyed, he and the Rangdan elites were trapped here, their only reliance being the human Hive City's shield.
The Siege Breaker's high-frequency vibration wave continuously bombarded the Warp shield, causing bursts of Warp purple light.
Due to the continuous effect, the Warp shield transformed from ethereal to tangible, its energy membrane pulled by the vibration wave cannon, triggering a catastrophic resonance.
It was an unprecedented spectacle; both the Imperial and Argent Nur positions looked towards the Hive City.
The semi-transparent Warp shield membrane, its Warp radiance gradually spreading from the point of attack to the entire hemisphere.
Then its brightness gradually increased, like a half-moon close at hand, illuminating the night sky of Morse.
The Warp shield's brightness continuously increased, its beauty before shattering, a tragic splendor that could even be admired from orbital space.
Crash! Crash! Crash!
The Warp shield, exposed to continuous bombardment for twenty minutes, emitted its most brilliant Warp radiance, finally overloading from the vibration wave's resonance.
Resonance differed from orbital bombardment; it was a continuous attack, requiring far more energy from the Warp shield than orbital bombardment.
One was a sustained output, the other fleeting. They could not be compared.
The moment the Warp shield overloaded, the Siege Breaker cannon's vibration wave slammed into the Hive City wall, and in less than one percent of a second, it penetrated the wall, dozens of meters thick.
The vibration wave was unstoppable, molecularizing any matter in its path.
The human slaves behind the city wall had no time to react, being turned into molecular dust by the high-frequency vibration.
The biological armor of the Rangdan elite warriors was no different from human flesh and blood.
Wherever the vibration frequency wave passed, nearby objects were annihilated into dust, while slightly more distant ones experienced astonishing explosions.
Freed from the constraints of the containment field, the high-frequency vibration wave spread, triggering nuclear fission reactions in certain areas where the vibration wave was suitable.
A line of fire appeared in the Hive City, filled with nuclear explosions and molecular dust shattered by the vibrations.
Stone, steel, flesh and blood—everything was decomposed into basic molecules.
The vibration wave advanced all the way, piercing through all protective measures, striking the plasma reactor at the heart of the Hive City.
Boom!
Another earth-shattering explosion, and the brightly lit Hive City erupted in flames. The plasma reactor exploded, collapsing one-third of the buildings.
When the flames subsided, only a sky full of smoke and a darkened Hive City remained.
"Yeah!!!" A thunderous cheer erupted from the Imperial position; Space Marines and mortals cheered together.
The long-suppressed frustration of being besieged by Xenos was now swept away, venting their inner gloom.
Urian took off his helmet, a smile on his face, his heart leaping, the gloom above his head completely gone.
With the Xenos losing their shield protection, they were like sheep without a sheepfold, fearing the Imperial iron fist would fall at any moment.
He looked at the siege weapon sprawled on the ground, amazed by its immense power, and began to make calculations in his mind.
If the First Legion had such a weapon, wouldn't it be invincible?
Such a siege weapon, he must find a way to acquire a few units!
Urian took a deep breath, thinking for the benefit of the First Legion.
Although he was a man with a crime, he still had to weigh judgment and duty—the Primarch had not yet condemned him, and he was still the Legion's Grand Master.
"Brother Urian Bendegre," just then, a communication came through the comms channel.
"Brother Atum, hello," Urian dared not neglect, quickly put on his helmet, and began a conversation with his cousin.
Atum said to Urian in the communication: "Grand Master, please have the Imperial artillery aim at the Hive City occupied by the Xenos."
"That might not be good..." Urian was very reserved, and after some deliberation, he said, "This is your honor, the glory of the Nur Stars."
"Don't worry about it," Atum's gaunt face showed a friendly smile. "Now is not the time for a full attack. You have plenty of time to torment the Xenos' minds."
"Cousin, the Imperial army longs for revenge against the Xenos, don't they?"
"So be it," Urian nodded in thanks, his eyes filled with unsuppressable joy. He solemnly thanked his cousin: "Thank you for your generosity, for looking after the morale of the Empire."
"No need for that. Our common goal is to defeat the Rangdan Xenos."
The Grand Master said no more, taking this generosity to heart, hoping to repay it someday.
His cousin was open-minded, willing to share honor and spoils to boost the morale and combat effectiveness of allied forces.
The Imperial army needed a decent strike to retaliate against the Xenos' arrogance.
To vent their inner frustration, boost army morale, and dispel their apprehension and fear of the Rangdan.
"Artillery, listen up!" The Grand Master's lips curled into a wicked smile as he ordered the artillery commander:
"Artillery positions, aim at the Hive City. Fire shells irregularly, let the Xenos experience what it feels like to constantly guard against attacks, sleeplessly."
"Receiving your command, Grand Master!" The artillery commander was emotional as he accepted the order.
The artillery positions aimed at the Hive City, occasionally firing a few shells that landed in the dense building clusters.
Without the protection of the Warp shield, the Rangdan activated emergency power to supply anti-aircraft fire, blocking the incoming shells.
The irregular, fierce shelling kept the Rangdan fully focused on defense, not daring to relax for a moment.
Shortly after the Hive City's void shield shattered, the Rangdan xeno fleet suddenly ceased its attack and began to gather outside the defensive perimeter.
Blazkowicz sat on his command throne, constantly reading the fleet's aggregated information, knowing that the Rangdan counterattack was imminent.
But his strategic deployment was precisely designed to achieve this outcome!
The Rangdan ground defenders were in a state of panic, constantly sending out calls for help, which prompted the void fleet to launch an offensive.
Void fleet battles are lengthy, and it would take several hours for the Rangdan fleet to withdraw and regroup.
Blazkowicz observed the star system's sand table, filling in weak points in the defenses based on his own insights and the Iron Man's calculations.
The addition of the First Legion's fleet undoubtedly provided significant assistance.
Even if intelligence on the Battleship was leaked, the three Gloriana-class Battleships were still unshakeable behemoths.
The Indomitable Truth, Abomination Exemplar, and Royal Majesty were positioned at critical points along the defense line to maximize their effectiveness.
The First Fleet's ships coordinated with the Imperial ships, alternating cover and fully utilizing their firepower and defensive advantages.
With the defense line deployed, the xeno fleet alone would find it difficult to shake the combined Argent Nur and Imperial fleets.
Having completed all this, Blazkowicz shifted his gaze to the distant information, specifically to the Rangdan's remaining two Battle Moons.
After the Battle Moon in Morse's orbit was destroyed, the xenos' colossal space stations moved closer together, using their firepower advantage to cover each other.
They stayed far from Morse World, far from the Royal Majesty, hiding behind the star.
The Battle Moons had to be eliminated; they could not be allowed to withdraw and become a future threat.
The Imperium had not yet discovered the full extent of Rangdan territory, and after the battle for Morse concluded, it would take a long time to find the xenos.
Allowing them to leave would be irresponsible for the future; it was better to nip the crisis in the bud and reduce future variables.
Blazkowicz pondered for a moment, then slowly said, "Send me to the training ground."
As his voice fell, the light of teleportation flared, and he arrived at the secluded edge of the training ground, unnoticed by anyone.
He strode forward, heading towards the center of the training ground, where Custodes and Doom Slayers were sparring, and Sentinels were observing.
Two fragile stone swords scraped against each other with a rustling sound, as two warriors at the pinnacle of the physical universe competed using the 'Restraint' technique.
"Shield Captain," Blazkowicz greeted the Custodian, his voice soft so as not to disturb the spar.
The Shield Captain was startled, instinctively wanting to jump away, but felt a pressure on his shoulder, rendering him unable to move.
Only after his mind caught up did he realize that the Primarch had silently approached him from behind.
Although he had been focused on the ongoing spar, being approached silently by the Primarch still sent a cold sweat down his spine.
He was about to open his mouth to greet him but saw the Primarch's gaze, signaling to talk aside.
"My Lord, what are your orders?" Entering a secluded rest cabin at the edge of the training ground, the Shield Captain finally spoke, "Is there a combat mission?"
"Yes, Shield Captain Odysseus," Blazkowicz called out the Custodian's name, derived from the hero of Greek legend.
"Sit," Blazkowicz gestured for Odysseus to sit, and he himself sat on a long bench.
Odysseus set down his halberd, removed his helmet, and placed it on the table, sitting opposite the Primarch.
He was a handsome man, with deep, striking features, possessing the charm of an ancient hero.
Blazkowicz tapped the table, displaying a holographic projection, and began to explain his plan: "I need six hundred Custodes to split into two groups, board the xenos' Battle Moons, and destroy them from within."
As he spoke, the holographic image changed, showing the external situation of the Battle Moons.
As early as when they entered the star system, the First Fleet's reconnaissance ships had infiltrated the Warp to gather intelligence on the Battle Moons.
Through stealthy scans, the reconnaissance ships had done their utmost to analyze one-tenth of the Battle Moons' structural thickness.
The Rangdan's colossal space stations were too large and had multiple layers of protection; it was not easy to obtain this intelligence without exposing the reconnaissance ships.
"My Lord, forgive my frankness," Odysseus said after seeing the information, not immediately agreeing.
"Speak freely," Blazkowicz nodded, signaling him to express himself fully.
"How do we destroy it?" Odysseus asked, "Are we to overload the Battle Moon's reactor?"
"The space station is too large, with intricate and complex routes. If we deviate from the path, we will struggle to reach the target and instead be surrounded by the enemy."
"That is of no concern; the Custodes fear no enemy."
"However, time is limited. If the xenos decide to escape, entering the Warp and taking us with them, the consequences would be dire."
Odysseus finished his questions in one breath, took a drink offered by a service automaton, and waited for the Primarch's reply.
"You do not need to destroy the core," Blazkowicz said with a smile, shaking his head. He reactivated the holographic image, displaying a device as tall as a man.
Odysseus' eyes widened abruptly as he saw the contents of the holographic image, instinctively reaching for his halberd.
"Lord Primarch, you are playing with fire!" he warned the Primarch with a serious expression.
The Shield Captain saw a transparent canister, its surface carved with the Primarch's insignia and other runes, filled with glowing Warp energy.
What made Odysseus so tense was that a Daemon was sealed inside!
It was a corpulent, bloated Greater Daemon of Nurgle, its body covered in boils, its belly split open with maggots writhing, its spirit listless.
His heart trembled, and his black eyes reflected the Primarch's figure, recalling the Emperor's charge to the Custodes—
"Primarch Number Twenty-One, he can do anything, including the utilization of Chaos knowledge, possessing power equal to mine."
Were it not for this charge from the Emperor, Odysseus would have questioned how the Primarch acquired such knowledge.
"The Doom Slayers will be responsible for escorting it. Once it reaches one-third of the Battle Moon's depth, simply detonate it."
Blazkowicz offered no further explanation, trying to put the Custodian at ease: "It dares not escape; self-detonation is its only chance of survival."
Argent Nur had long been developing Psyker weapons, cautiously researching Warp knowledge.
In this endeavor, he had received support from Life Forger Primal, who had provided private research and knowledge specifically on Daemons.
With Doom Slayers personally guarding the Daemon research facility, Psyker Masters, combining ancient knowledge, had developed several 'Daemon Weapons.'
What Blazkowicz displayed was one of them.
It was a 'Corrosive Bomb' created by capturing a Greater Daemon of Nurgle from the Warp, utilizing the Daemon's characteristics, combined with time sorcery and time technology.
Just one such time bomb, imbued with a corrosive virus, could cause a world to undergo a million years of corrosion in three minutes.
Unless the situation absolutely demanded it, Blazkowicz would not use Daemon Weapons; they were too dangerous.
Ships with sufficient firepower could not approach the Battle Moons, and the xenos, having learned their lesson once, would surely flee immediately.
Ships that could approach lacked sufficient firepower to cause effective damage.
Rashly using black hole weapons would cause gravitational imbalance within the star system, and a series of chain reactions could lead to the destruction of the Morse Solar System.
The boarding party could only carry the Daemon Weapons manufactured by Argent Nur.
"Custodes," Blazkowicz looked at Odysseus, a hint of helplessness in his tone:
"This is a last resort. Out of respect, I am telling you about the existence of these unclean weapons."
Odysseus nodded; indeed, as the Primarch said, he could have acted in secret, merely having the Custodes escort the Doom Slayers.
The Primarch's current act of consultation showed the Custodes the utmost respect.
After a moment of thought, the Shield Captain said to the Primarch, "I support your plan, but upon returning to Terra, I will need to report this matter to the Emperor."
"Understood," Blazkowicz nodded. The Custodes' actions were beyond reproach; they had the right to reserve their opinions.
"I will go prepare," Odysseus drank his cold beverage, put on his helmet, picked up his halberd, and gathered the Custodes to prepare for the operation.
Blazkowicz stood up and instructed the Custodes, "Go to the standard armory; there are some pieces of equipment you will find useful."
"Understood," Odysseus' eyes lit up; the armaments produced by Argent Nur were quite practical.
Blazkowicz watched the Custodes leave, sighing helplessly.
If the Legion had enough numbers to organize a sufficient force, he would not have needed to reveal these secrets to the Custodes.
Secrets known by the Custodes would surely be known by the Emperor.
The warriors in golden armor were the Emperor's most loyal servants, selflessly dedicating everything to the Emperor.
"Take me to the Daemon Weapon Chamber," the light of teleportation flared beneath Blazkowicz's feet, and his holy sigil vanished from the rest cabin.
In a hidden corner of the Royal Majesty, this area was isolated from mortals, and its existence was known to few.
The room existed in another dimension, and the passages leading to it were fraught with danger to prevent Daemons from escaping.
Psyker runes from the Old Ones were inscribed on the door, blocking all Psyker detection.
Outside the demon armory, ten Doom Slayers stood in two rows, guarding the safety of the armory.
Seeing the flickering transmission light, they immediately gripped their weapons, and after recognizing the arrivals, they knelt on one knee: "Gene-Father!"
"Rise," Blazkowicz quickly waved for them to stand up.
He had told them not to kneel before, but his Primarch's children insisted on doing so to show respect.
"King Nowick," ten Psyker Masters in long robes bowed, welcoming King Nowick's arrival.
"You've worked hard," Blazkowicz offered them his sincere greetings, expressing his respect.
These selfless Psyker Masters, with golden runes inscribed all over their bodies, used psychic barriers to defend against immaterial prying.
"Open the gate, I need to retrieve some weapons," Blazkowicz nodded, signaling for the Masters to open the door.
"As you command," two Psyker Masters turned, extended their rune-covered palms, and chanted spells to input psychic energy.
A gap opened in the psychic shield, and the door immediately opened a crack.
"I think the Blood God is a three-to-seven match against the Dark Prince; the Blood God can chop the Dark Prince seven times in three minutes!"
"No! No! No! The Dark Prince would cry and beg the Blood God to spare It!"
"So the question is, was the conflict between the Blood God and the Dark Prince orchestrated by the Lord of Change?"
"Why all the fighting and killing? Wouldn't it be better for everyone to sit down and listen to the teachings of the Merciful Father, to love each other?"
"Blasphemous Bloodthirster, the Dark Prince will pull out your blasphemous tongues and brutally violate your throats!"
"This is the Godslayer's domain; before the Dark Prince violates us, we might already be killed by Him."
"Ha! Ha! Ha! Gah..."
Inside the door, it was a chaotic mess, with the howls and taunts of demons occasionally echoing.
When the door opened, the conversations and taunts inside the armory ceased abruptly; the demons seemed to have their throats choked.
The Godslayer stood at the door, his gaze very unfriendly, looking at them as if they were corpses.
Forty jars were displayed in the hall, each containing ten demons of the Four Gods, imprisoned within runic seals.
The sealed jars were only the height of a mortal; the massive bodies of the Four Gods' Great Demons were forcibly compressed and confined within a small space.
At this moment, the Lord of Change folded its wings, shrinking its head like a startled bird, as docile as a quail.
The Bloodthirster knelt on one knee, expressing respect to the Godslayer, not daring to act presumptuously.
The Keeper of Secrets Great Demon trembled, its black-purple long tongue twisted together in its mouth, terrified of making a sound.
The Great Unclean One slumped, the maggots on its body quivering, its sickly green body turning somewhat pale from fear.
Blazkowicz's gaze was tangible, burning the demons' skin and emitting a scorching white smoke.
The demons trembled in pain but dared not make a sound; no one dared to face the Godslayer's oppressive aura.
Blazkowicz's heart longed to tear apart these vile creations, his fists clenched, suppressing the surging rage.
The Godslayer's mark inscribed on the jar walls seemed to come alive, burning their impure bodies like a branding iron.
"Two Bloodthirsters, two Great Unclean Ones."
Blazkowicz was expressionless, his voice as cold as frost: "Take them and rendezvous with the Custodes."
He finished speaking and turned to leave, afraid he wouldn't be able to resist killing a few demons to vent his anger.
Watching the Godslayer leave, the demons breathed a sigh of relief, a surge of elation welling up within them.
If it weren't for the wrong location, they would even want to cheer aloud.
As long as they were killed by these jars, releasing the concept and power of the demons, they could return to the Warp and be reborn.
From then on, the sky would be wide for birds to fly, and the sea vast for fish to leap, far from the Godslayer's threat, never wanting to see Him again!
Four Doom Slayers walked into the hall; the Bloodthirsters and Great Unclean Ones cast hopeful glances, wishing to be chosen.
Some Great Demons were even so agitated that they pointed at themselves.
"Behave!" A Doom Slayer barked, instantly making the Great Demons stand at attention.
In the eyes of the Great Demons, the departed Blazkowicz was the boss, and the Doom Slayers before them were the young masters.
They could both turn them to dust, completely annihilating their very concept.
Demons viewed invading reality as a game, a virtual game with real sensations, finding pleasure in trampling the beings of the real universe.
The demons' greatest reliance was their ability to be reborn in the Warp after death, so they acted recklessly, with no fear or reverence in their hearts.
But the Godslayer was different; he possessed the concept of eradication, and his Primarch's children inherited that concept.
To demons, Doom Slayers were the embodiment of true death; once killed by them, there was no possibility of resurrection.
Even their past and future, their true names and marks in the Warp, would all be erased along with them.
Even more terrifying, their demonic essence would be plundered, becoming the foundation for the Doom Slayers' strength.
How could this not make the demons afraid?
Seeing Blazkowicz was even more terrifying than seeing the Four Gods.
If killed by an opposing deity, a demon's true name and Warp mark would not disappear; only its form would be scattered by the deity.
If the worshipped deity was pleased, the demon could be resurrected and return to receive divine grace once more.
A low growl from a Doom Slayer made the demons quiet down again, waiting to be chosen like merchandise.
Without any special selection, the Doom Slayers covered the demon jars at the front of the queue with psychic black cloths, obscuring them from outsiders' view.
The chosen demons were overjoyed, casting contemptuous glances at the other demons, thrilled beyond measure.
The Doom Slayers gripped the handles on top of the jars, lifted the sealed containers of the demons, and left the demon armory.
As they left, the door closed again, and the Great Demons once more became boisterous, teasing and joking about the gods.
Here, the gods' gazes couldn't reach, and they could speak freely, wantonly complaining about the four deities.
In the Royal Majesty's hangar, six hundred Custodes were divided into two groups, ready for deployment.
Metal wings were installed on the backs of the Custodes' golden armor, flight packs designed for complex terrain.
Originally intended for Doom Slayers, these packs were also used by the Custodes for mission requirements, aligning with the Empire's interests.
The Doom Slayers and Custodes were similar in height, making their equipment highly compatible.
Blazkowicz's eyes lit up when he saw them; the golden-armored Custodes with dark wings had a beautiful, 'fallen angel' aesthetic.
Behind him followed twenty black-armored Doom Slayers, escorting the forbidden weapons containing demons.
"Captain Odysseus, can you achieve maximum results and destroy the Xenos' gargantuan structures?"
Blazkowicz stood before the Custodes, his tall figure looking down at the Shield Captain: "It all depends on you!"
Odysseus held his halberd with one hand, his fist against his chest: "The Custodes will definitely complete the mission!"
"Wear this," Blazkowicz gestured, signaling for the Iron Men to bring out the prepared equipment.
"What is this?" Odysseus was puzzled by the rings in the technicians' hands.
"Precious teleportation lassoes," a Stone Man held up the circular bracelets in his hand, explaining to the Shield Captain:
"They will take you off the Xenos ship and back to the transport ship if your lives are in danger or after the mission is completed."
Blazkowicz's gaze swept over the Custodes on the tarmac, and he slowly spoke: "The Emperor entrusted you to me, and I must be responsible for your lives."
"Thank you for your concern," Odysseus' tone was sincere; he was truly grateful to the Primarch.
This advanced equipment not only enhanced the Custodes' combat power but also ensured the safety of every Custodes' life.
Odysseus sighed inwardly, feeling that the Primarch before him was more thoughtful compared to his brothers.
"Let's go," Blazkowicz signaled for the distribution of the teleportation lassoes, ensuring basic protection for all Custodes and Doom Slayers.
"Please rest assured, Primarch, we will surely return victorious!" The Shield Captain raised his halberd, turned, and walked towards the transport ship: "Custodes, board the ship!"
The Doom Slayers were also ready, donning their flight packs with the help of machines.
"Brothers, board the ship! We will seize victory for the Gene-Father!"
Blazkowicz said nothing, clenching his fists as he watched his Primarch's children depart, speaking in their psychic link: "May you return safely."
This boarding action was a thousand times more dangerous than a normal boarding.
The place the Custodes and Doom Slayers were going was an iron planet, teeming with terrifying Xenos.
They had to penetrate one-third of the Battle Moon's depth, then detonate the demon weapons.
Only the Custodes and Doom Slayers could resist the mental pollution emitted by the Xenos in the Xenos' nest.
The former were ultimate life forms created by the Emperor, the latter were his own Primarch's children.
Their task was arduous.
The progress of destroying the Battle Moon had to be synchronized, ensuring that the error in detonating the weapons did not exceed one minute in battle without communication.
If the progress on both sides differed too much, the later Battle Moon might enter the Warp and escape.
The boarding party was divided into two groups, departing on two transport ships.
They would enter reconnaissance ships, using the stealth capabilities of the warships to approach the Xenos Battle Moon, a process that could take several days.
To avoid detection, the reconnaissance ships had to shut down their propulsion engines at a certain distance, allowing the vessels to drift forward in the void.
Morse World.
The Imperial forces' irregular artillery harassment kept the Rangdan constantly on edge.
The xenos warriors still held onto hope, anticipating their fleet would tear through the human blockade and evacuate them from the battlefield.
It was this faint spark of hope that prevented the xenos Warmaster, Lolos, from having the courage to burn his bridges and fight a decisive battle against the human ground forces.
Such hesitation is most taboo in war.
Without the resolve to fight to the death, there was no strategy for retreat.
The soldiers' morale and courage were worn down day by day, and the once sharp army lost its will to fight, becoming mere mortals desperate to survive.
Within the Hive City, the humans' incessant harassment gradually drove the Rangdan elite to the brink of mental collapse.
The Rangdan's highly developed nervous system and resilient mental strength inevitably began to decline and show fatigue.
The xenos' arrogance was shattered, their mental fluctuations filled with pleas, and when they looked up at the sky, they prayed that human shells would not fall.
In war, attacking the heart is superior to attacking the city.
Atum continuously weakened the Rangdan's combat power through relentless mental torment, paving the way for subsequent operations.
By the time the main army stormed the Hive City, they would find not fierce Rangdan, but a group of vulnerable xenos awaiting slaughter.
In the void, Blazkowicz personally took command, directing various battle groups to blockade the void front and resist the Rangdan's assaults.
Though fleet battles lacked the bloody gore of close-quarters combat, their danger was even greater.
In ground combat, the tide of battle might suddenly shift due to a burst of activity at a certain point, inspiring morale and changing the outcome.
But in void fleet operations, such a situation was impossible.
The steel ships were cold and indifferent, carrying the massive bodies of humans, and could not experience a sudden burst of activity due to minor variables.
Or, it could be understood another way: the fleet commanders did not want any unstable variables within their fleets.
Void ship combat was a precisely calculated gamble.
Weapon range and power, maximum ship speed, shield overload thresholds, maneuver angles, and overload limits were all fixed factors.
Within these fixed factors, they fought an unpredictable war.
Blazkowicz sat steadily on his command throne, like a high-precision machine, constantly calculating the variables of the defensive line and coordinating the fleet's movements.
Fleet casualties steadily rose; the cold, unforgiving universe tested every warship and every individual.
Humans and Rangdan exchanged fire along the line he had drawn.
Lances and plasma flickered incessantly, engines spewed plasma glow, intertwined, and the temperature of the surrounding void rose due to the engagement.
The brutal war of attrition left the blockade line littered with ship wrecks, tangled together by gravitational pull.
Yet the fighting never ceased; the wreckage of destroyed warships, accumulating space debris, became natural cover for other warships.
Blazkowicz, with his extraordinary intellect, deduced the battle situation, skillfully maneuvering to lure the Rangdan fleet into a trap.
He had to remain fully focused, destroying as many Rangdan ships as possible before the boarding parties arrived.
Once the boarding operation succeeded, the Rangdan fleet would most likely retreat, or, less likely, fight to the death.
Regardless of the outcome, Blazkowicz continuously secured tactical victories, ultimately achieving his strategic victory.
In one corner of the holographic star map, a telescope constantly tracked a seemingly empty area.
The stealth reconnaissance ships carrying the boarding fleet, after an initial acceleration burst, had shut down their main engines and were now drifting forward by inertia.
Within the holographic display, a cold countdown indicated the remaining time until arrival at the destination.
Blazkowicz glanced at the seventy-two-hour arrival time, momentarily drawing his mind from the void battle to consider his next move.
He now faced two choices.
When the boarding party reached the designated location, Blazkowicz could choose to send a fleet forward to draw in more Rangdan ships, providing cover for their operation.
But this could backfire. A sudden, abnormal move after a long war of attrition might instead raise the Rangdan's vigilance.
Remaining still was safer, maintaining the current situation with few variables in the operation, but the risk to the boarding party would increase.
Once the operation began, the Rangdan would inevitably conduct a grid search for warships, increasing the risk of exposure for the rendezvous ships.
The rendezvous ships would be defenseless; once discovered, they would be destroyed, and the boarding party would not be able to return.
"Ten ships will form a 'fist' unit and advance, outflanking from the side of the defensive line to attack the enemy's flank."
After five seconds of thought, Blazkowicz decided on a frontal assault, aiming to draw in the Rangdan fleet surrounding the Battle Moon.
Six hundred Custodians, twenty Doom Slayers.
Such immense losses, not to mention the Emperor, even he himself could not bear.
"Notify Atum that the void fleet is launching an attack. The Rangdan on the ground will surely react, and he must guard against their counterattack."
Blazkowicz issued commands continuously.
He not only had to direct the void battle but also consider the ground battlefield and the distant boarding action.
These seemingly disparate battlefields were, in fact, interconnected, with one move affecting the whole.
As the Primarch's orders were issued, the void fleet immediately sprang into action.
The Abomination Exemplar Gloriana Queen warship detached from the defensive line, leading ten Argent Nur ships in a flanking maneuver.
"Execute the Primarch's orders! Maximum speed, outflank and sweep the xenos fleet!" The Lord of the Void Sky Army roared, urging the ship's serfs to begin the flanking maneuver.
The Lord of the Legion showed no hesitation—the will of a Primarch was not for mortals to fathom.
Over nearly ten days of fleet attrition, the Primarch's command ability had opened his eyes, making him understand the difference between a Primarch and an Astartes.
Although they shared a genetic connection, they were entirely different species.
Aside from the first day of fleet contact, when a slight awkwardness in his intellect led to the loss of several cruisers and frigates, his subsequent commands were swift and clear.
He even specified precise ship locations and exact times for rotations.
Over a week, under the Primarch's command, Imperial ship losses steadily decreased, while victories mounted.
The mixed formation of Argent Nur ships and Imperial ships first had the Imperial ships absorb damage, fully leveraging the Argent Nur's superior firepower.
Once the void shields were nearly depleted, the Argent Nur ships would then withstand enemy fire; by this point, the fleet would have closed with the enemy, allowing the Imperial ships to bring their full firepower to bear.
Strike swiftly, then disengage immediately.
Immediately switch ship positions, and as they disengaged, the Argent Nur ships would again unleash their power.
As the coordination between the ships became more proficient, there were almost no battle losses in the later stages, only abundant victories.
The cooperation between the Imperium and Argent Nur, at a very small cost, resulted in the destruction of nearly a hundred Rangdan capital ships and countless smaller vessels.
"With this ship at the lead, adopt a spearhead formation." The Lord of the Legion continuously issued orders, adjusting the formation of the "fist."
Adeptus Mechanicus personnel deep within the ship, beside the Gloriana Queen warship's plasma reactor, chanted prayers to the Omnissiah, awakening the ship's dormant power.
The Abomination Exemplar led the charge, continuously accelerating, launching an attack from the side of the Rangdan ships.
"No need to slow down! Activate the bow's disintegration field and punch through! Broadside the enemy!" The Lord of the Legion roared, as if imbued with the ship's fury.
"Evade! Evade!" The Rangdan captain's mental fluctuations were violent, issuing urgent commands, ordering the ship's thralls to adjust the ship's posture.
The human attack was too sudden, abandoning the war of attrition blockade to assault their flank.
What was wrong with that warship? The Rangdan were now filled with a thousand questions.
As a primary human warship, the Abomination Exemplar was closely watched by the Rangdan; it had withdrawn from the defensive line, then reappeared on the defensive line, had it not?
How did it suddenly appear on the flank?
It naturally did not know that after the Abomination Exemplar withdrew, it had indeed immediately left the blockade line and begun a secret flanking maneuver.
The warship anchored at the front line was a cruiser disguised as the Abomination Exemplar.
The cruiser was equipped with numerous holographic projectors, and its ship signal was deliberately amplified to mimic the Abomination Exemplar's appearance.
The disguise was crude, but in the chaos of battle, amidst heavy radiation interference, it naturally managed to deceive.
This tactical arrangement was proposed by Gates.
Its flash of inspiration, surprisingly, came from the Rangdan xenos themselves and their powerful electromagnetic interference technology.
In the early stages of the war, Blazkowicz himself was almost deceived by their disguised signals, mistakenly believing them to be friendly warships.
Ultimately, it was Iron Man's precise calculations and his insistence that proved there could be no friendly forces in that part of the void.
As the Rangdan panicked, the Abomination Exemplar plunged into the battle line, its bow flashing with disintegrating lightning, engines at full thrust, ramming into a xenos battleship.
Juices flew wildly!
The biological warship's tissues vaporized in the disintegrating lightning, the crisp snap of its spine breaking mixed with the hiss of splashing goo.
Semi-biological warships had obvious weaknesses; lacking heavy armor, they could not withstand impact.
"Target lock complete," the Cogitator array announced, its mechanical voice alerting the captain to the optimal firing moment: "Broadside cannons are in optimal firing arc."
"All ships fire!" The Lord of the Void Sky Army was equally ruthless, allowing the Abomination Exemplar to unleash its full firepower.
The Gloriana-class Battleship, the Empire's most powerful warship, its might made the star sector tremble.
Who could withstand her attack?
None could resist! No xenos warship could endure her wrath.
The Abomination Exemplar maintained its speed, its broadside weapons simultaneously targeting eight xenos warships, the limit of its firing arc.
Lances blazed like the sun, all torpedoes were launched, and macro cannons fired ceaselessly.
With a hull over twenty kilometers long, not a single weapon remained silent, all unleashing their fury upon the xenos warships.
The shields of the eight Rangdan warships instantly overloaded. The Abomination Exemplar brushed past them, speeding away at an incredible pace.
The Rangdan fleet had no time to rejoice; the warship's hit-and-run attack signaled impending destruction.
Before their shields could fully regenerate, the Human silver-white warships surged forward—they were the true killing blow!
These oddly styled xenos warships, their own firepower led to their downfall.
Lances lit up, macro cannons roared. The eight shield-broken warships were torn apart by the onslaught, becoming new space hulks.
"Lord of the Legion, the deck alarm has been triggered; we have been boarded."
The Cogitator array reported again, its surface showing hundreds of thousands of bionic faces, rapidly relaying the warship's status: "Deck Six has been invaded."
The Cogitator, a fusion of machine and biological nerves—a creation of the Imperium after it abandoned artificial intelligence.
The Adeptus Mechanicus had implanted human brain tissue into the computer as a logical processing unit.
"Notify the Legion warriors," the Lord of the Legion quickly thought, issuing an order to the Cogitator:
"Surround the Rangdan from multiple directions, clear all thralls in the area, and prevent the spread of xenos psychic contamination."
"Understood," the Cogitator's bionic vocalizer responded, its tone mechanically cold: "Deploying Space Marines."
The Lord of the Legion nodded, no longer focusing on the boarding incident, instead concentrating on the Abomination Exemplar's direction of advance.
He needed to stir up a storm to lure the enemy deeper.
He didn't know what the Primarch was planning, but it was certainly a major event concerning the war.
On the ground battlefield, the Rangdan ground forces also made their move, with Human slaves emerging from the Hive City.
After a prolonged siege, most Humans were listless, pale, and physically weak.
The Hive City, having lost its main power source, struggled to produce enough resources to sustain the massive Human Auxiliary Army.
The Rangdan would not allocate supplies to maintain the lives of what they considered "pigs and dogs."
"Grand Master, simply defend; the time for a full assault has not yet come." Atum was in the command bunker, and Urian's figure appeared on the communication channel.
"Understood, Commander Atum." A smile appeared on Urian's resolute face; he looked ruddy and invigorated.
Having harassed the xenos for several days, with the Nur Legion assisting in defense, Urian had been able to fully rest.
The Grand Master's expression grew serious as he told Atum: "We will hold the defensive bases and will not rashly sally forth."
Urian was willing to obey battlefield directives; he knew well who Atum represented.
The true Overlord of the grand strategy was the Primarch in space; that great one was orchestrating the overall direction of the battlefield.
Deep down, he was also willing to cooperate with Atum, in gratitude for the Nur Legion's generous support.
During the days of ground defense, Argent Nur had sent many supplies, rewarding the Imperial Army and Legion soldiers.
"Commence bombardment." After ending the communication, Urian ordered the artillery positions to begin striking the Human thralls: "Extend the barrage, conduct a carpet bombing."
"First Combat Sequence, move to battle positions. Second Combat Sequence, prepare for relief, defend against the human tide's assault."
The Grand Master was no longer stingy; the two defensive bases had been dismantled, all troops returned to the main base, and he now commanded a large force.
As the bombardment began, the rested Imperial Army once again plunged into battle.
The Argent Nur line was long, forming a slightly curved sector, encircling one-fifth of the Hive City's outer perimeter.
Two hundred and fifty thousand Mortal Auxiliary Army soldiers, two and a half million automated combat servitors, and various heavy fire support.
Everyone stood ready, preparing to defend against the Rangdan assault, facing the onslaught of a massive Human thrall army.
"Commander, do we need to use artillery and Titans?" The mortal Legion Commander stood beside the command console, asking Atum.
"Not yet," Atum said, his gaze fixed on the human tide on the battlefield, not looking up: "Our troops need training, to face any type of enemy."
"Those fallen brethren, perhaps they are the crucible for forging will, to let the warriors know the cruelty of the battlefield."
"Let their will be tempered by blood, to grow into true warriors."
"I understand." The mortal Legion Commander said nothing more, returning to his position.
He sat back in his chair, a blue holographic projection before him, allowing him to command his Legion at all times.
Atum's central command console overlooked the entire planet; warships in space constantly scanned Morse World.
All populations from all Hive Cities poured out, converging here, painting the holographic image blood red.
He did not call for orbital bombardment; he wanted to use this immense pressure to broaden the horizons of the Argent Nur Mortal Auxiliary Army.
In the boundless star ocean, such battlefields were commonplace; conquering the star ocean not only meant facing xenos but also pulling the trigger on one's own kind.
Atum coldly swept his gaze over the blood-red mass of enemies, his eyes showing no emotion, issuing the commander's order: "No use of servitors; engage the enemy with defensive lines."
His command was not given directly to the soldiers but transmitted to the terminals of each Legion Commander.
The Nur Legion had a strict hierarchy, never bypassing ranks; the overall commander was responsible for grand strategy, and Legion Commanders were responsible for executing strategic actions.
Battalion and company commanders within the Legion were responsible for tactical execution and specific frontline responses.
At the frontline defensive positions, junior officers relayed orders layer by layer; communications quickly reached the soldiers under their command:
"Disable auxiliary aiming systems, disable visual telescopes, disable…"
Clatter ~ The soldiers moved in unison, disabling automatic aiming on their weapons and various functions within their helmets.
"Soldiers! We now have no auxiliaries, simulating the most brutal battlefield, defending against the enemy's attack!"
A battalion commander, leading a thousand men, patrolled the defensive line.
The coarse voice unique to soldiers echoed in the battalion-level communication: "We are several years behind our battle brothers."
"Hold the line, remember what we learned in the War College!"
The ground began to tremble; Human slaves surged like a tidal wave, pressing against the Imperial and Argent Nur lines, a terrifying sight.
"For King Nowick!" the battalion commander roared hoarsely, his voice, unfiltered by the communication channel, reverberating across the defensive line.
"For King Nowick!" His war cry resonated, and all soldiers on the line shouted, their deep voices shattering the overcast sky.
"For the Emperor!" In the Imperial line, a similar war cry responded.
Facing an enemy far outnumbering them, they let out a fearless roar, knowing they would win.
The Primarch was in space, the Emperor watched over Terra.
"I've never seen so many people," a Sentinels soldier in the Argent Nur line remarked casually to his comrade beside him.
His armor was not white, but the original gray of steel, with Blazkowicz's insignia inscribed on his shoulder pad.
This Sentinels soldier had experienced the Orc siege, participated in the War of Truth, and witnessed the rise of Blazkowicz Novick.
To signify the Sentinels' honor, Blazkowicz had granted them their original color, distinguishing them from later Sentinels recruits.
"Aren't you nervous?" the white-armored recruit asked, gripping his spear tightly, his fingertips trembling slightly from the battlefield's pressure.
"Nervous? What's that?" The veteran scoffed disdainfully, placing a hand on the newcomer's shoulder: "I've been in battlefields thousands of times more terrifying than this."
"What was it?" the recruit asked curiously; he knew a part of Argent Nur's history had been deleted.
"I hope you never witness it in your life." The veteran shook his head, speaking solemnly and gravely to the newcomer: "That is the deepest terror; only courage and will can overcome it."
With that, the veteran said no more, raising his spear and patrolling the line with the recruit, protecting the Mortal Auxiliary Army.
Due to the shutdown of various auxiliary systems and the abandonment of ultra-long-range firing capabilities, the Legion Commanders decided to let the enemy enter within 500 meters before engaging.
The Legion Commanders were confident that the weapons in the Legion's hands could withstand the surging human tide.
The Imperial line had already begun fighting, red laser beams forming a deadly blockade, engaging the Human brethren before them.
Having experienced the most critical moments, they naturally handled it with ease, without the slightest panic.
Within the Argent Nur line, stray bullets occasionally whizzed by; the slave army's automatic weapons fired, shooting at the line.
Bullets pinged off power armor, and stray rounds fell like rain, each one striking the new recruits' mental defenses.
The Sentinels soldiers watched with interest, a smile on their faces beneath their helmets, observing how the mortals, who had undergone simplified Guard training, controlled their inner fear.
"Hey!" In this extremely tense moment, a veteran Guard suddenly roared.
The mortals' bodies trembled violently, the old veteran's shout jolting their taut nerves.
Almost instinctively, the Auxiliary Army soldiers' fingers rested on their triggers, wanting to fire.
Only at the last moment, the instinct from decades of training held them back, preventing them from shooting.
The responsible company commander looked at the Sentinels, cold sweat pouring down his body; he, too, was greatly startled.
If his soldiers had fired, his responsibility would have been significant, potentially leading to retraining as the most severe consequence.
Fortunately, the soldiers withstood the test from the Sentinels Lord.
"Not bad..." The Sentinels nodded. The mortal soldiers before him had not disgraced their warrior training.
"Lord..." The company commander spoke cautiously, the sweat on his body being wicked away by the power armor's internal circulation.
"What are you nervous about?" The Sentinels raised his hand, interrupting the mortal officer's speech. The old veteran shouted, "What has nervousness brought you?"
"It only clouds your reason, making you forget your usual training. Overly tense nerves will only stiffen your bodies."
"Relax a little. True strength comes from within. The enemies before you are but a gentle breeze."
At his reprimand, the soldiers visibly relaxed. After a few deep breaths, their fingers moved away from their weapon triggers.
"We are an unyielding high wall. Remain calm and composed. A gentle breeze passes in an instant, but the high wall stands eternally."
"Compared to the enemies before you, you should focus more on the condition of your weapons, ensuring they can fire bullets at the critical moment."
The Sentinels' spear shaft tapped a soldier's shoulder. He asked in a low voice, "Can your weapon fire?"
The soldier's hand trembled. He glanced sideways and realized the safety on his weapon was not disengaged.
"Haha~" The Sentinels shook his head and walked away, "Fresh recruits... I don't know what they're so nervous about."
Even with warrior training, differences between individuals still existed, and mortal soldiers could never fully grasp it.
Although he shook his head, the Sentinels inwardly approved of the mortal soldiers.
Participating in a real battlefield for the first time, their posture remained unshaken, overcoming their inner fragility with the instinct of training.
"You!" The company commander walked up and said to the soldier, "If you survive, I expect to see your self-criticism!"
"Understood!" The soldier shouted loudly, trying to make as many people as possible hear him. He knew how serious his mistake was.
He re-entered his firing position, raised his weapon, aimed at the enemy, and waited for the order to fire.
"Fire." Orders were given by various Legion Commanders, transmitted from the command center to the battlefield.
"Fire!" The front-line officers ordered to fire. There was no passionate roar, but the calm tone was beyond doubt.
The soldiers pressed their triggers and immediately opened fire, using bullets to eliminate the enemies before them.
These alien slaves, though thin and driven by withered muscles, ran with an undiminished fanaticism on their faces.
There were no intense gunshots, only the sound of electromagnetic projectiles. In front of the Nur Auxiliary Army, enemy forces fell in swathes.
The moment they fired and killed the enemy, the Nur Auxiliary Army realized how fragile the overwhelming tide of enemies before them was.
Only then did they understand that on the battlefield, only the weapon in their hand was reliable; inner tension and hesitation would ultimately shackle their courage.
The initial gunfire was somewhat chaotic, but after only half a minute, the firing gradually stabilized and became rhythmic.
The strength of an army could be judged by its shooting.
Trained since childhood, the Auxiliary Army, having undergone the baptism of slaughter, gradually matured in their mindset towards the battlefield.
Their inner turmoil gradually subsided, and their powerful professional skills were brought to bear at this moment.
The electromagnetic nail guns in their hands accelerated steel nails to two thousand meters per second, piercing through enemy bodies.
No longer holding down the trigger to spray, they used the weapon's sights for aiming when the auxiliary aiming system was lost.
The electromagnetic nail guns whirred, muzzles flashing with electricity, continuously firing 8mm steel nails, punching fist-sized holes in flesh and blood.
Inexpensive electromagnetic weapons were best suited for the Auxiliary Army, excelling in both firepower and sustained capability.
A standard magazine held five hundred finger-length steel nails, greatly easing logistical management.
The weapons were connected to the power armor's battery, and the nuclear power battery could last for decades.
"Reload." The Auxiliary Army, divided into smaller groups, cooperated closely to ensure continuous firepower output.
In front of the Argent Nur line, there was now a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood, all enemy remains and severed limbs.
The Empire's laser guns cauterized wounds upon hitting biological targets, providing a certain hemostatic effect.
This resulted in large piles of corpses accumulating in front of the Empire's lines, but without a large amount of flowing blood.
Atum, in the command center, nodded imperceptibly. The Gene-Father's efforts had not been in vain.
According to the data, at the moment the Auxiliary Army opened fire, ammunition consumption was huge, but the kill-to-damage ratio was very low.
After a minute of familiarization, this ratio increased and continued to improve.
He stared at the command console, not paying much attention to the enemy's movements, but more concerned with the coordination of the mortal army.
"Notify the artillery to bombard this area with phosphorus ammunition." The Legion Commander sat in his position, outlining an area on the overall map:
"Burn the enemy corpses to prevent the infantry's field of fire from being obstructed."
"Supply teams, keep up. Constantly monitor the troops' ammunition consumption to ensure the warriors have no worries about ammunition."
"Battle sequence replacement in one minute. Every person must kill an enemy and receive the baptism of the battlefield."
The twenty-five Legion Commanders each performed their duties, coordinating the operation of the battlefield.
They were also transforming, shedding some of their panic and shortcomings, becoming more adept.
Atum no longer focused on trivial matters. As the Nur Auxiliary Army became proficient, he shifted his gaze to the overall situation.
Scanned by orbital vessels, Morse World still had six hundred million people, all controlled by the Rangdan.
Originally about a billion, four hundred million were eliminated by the First Legion.
This population number was rapidly decreasing, with non-combat attrition being greater than those eliminated by humans.
To wear down the landing forces, the Rangdan made everyone leave the Hive Cities and surround them on foot across the planet's wilderness.
Atum shook his head at the vast numbers. He knew the Rangdan's contamination ability was astonishing, but he hadn't expected it to be so powerful.
According to intelligence provided by Grand Master Urian, the key to the Rangdan's control over the population lay in the water source.
The aliens first controlled a small portion of people, then introduced their secreted brain fluid into the Hive City's water supply, and soon they could control an entire Hive City.
Only a tiny amount of brain fluid was needed for the aliens to establish a psychic link, forcibly twisting human thoughts and making them loyal servants.
This process was irreversible; once controlled, it was eternal damnation.
Now, with the changes in the void battlefield, the entire population of Morse World was moving to surround them.
The alien Warmaster in the Hive City could no longer hold back and sought revenge against humanity, coordinating a synchronized attack with the void fleet.
Atum rested his chin on his hand, thinking carefully about how the aliens would attack the human lines.
Land and air were unlikely. Without shields, elite warriors exposed to firepower were simply seeking death.
"Master of Mechanics!" A cold light flashed in his eyes as he called out to the Argent Nur technical personnel.
"Lord," a middle-aged man in a black robe with an auxiliary arm backpack walked out of the command fortress, "What are your orders?"
Atum nodded and asked the Master of Mechanics, "Is the seismic monitor functioning normally?"
A mechanical arm extended in front of him, projecting an image before the Master of Mechanics: "It's functioning normally, but with the battlefield artillery fire, there's too much noise."
Atum's expression was grave. The readings from the seismic monitor trembled violently, like a human heartbeat monitor.
He looked at the Master of Mechanics and said with certainty, "The aliens will attack from underground."
"I understand." The Master of Mechanics retracted his mechanical arm, bowed, and left to set up instruments for preventative measures.
Atum nodded. It was not too late to take precautions now, as the battle had not yet reached its climax.
Currently, the Primarch was wearing down the Rangdan's void fleet, striving for maximum results.
Eliminating the Rangdan's fleet before the boarding parties acted was the Gene-Father's objective.
The Rangdan forces on the ground were meat on humanity's chopping block, to be dealt with entirely at humanity's will.
If they were to abandon Morse's natural resources, orbital strikes and extermination orders would be enough to eliminate the alien infection.
But they could not move; the Primarch needed elite warriors to draw out the Rangdan fleet.
The current battlefield was a tug-of-war; any rash move by either side would lead to complete defeat and prevent the maximization of results.
Time continued to advance, and the chess game set by Blazkowicz gradually moved towards his predicted outcome.
In the void, two scout warships, after a long period of "skipping stones," finally rounded to the far side of the star, between the two Battle Moons.