The offensive routes were blocked across the board; the armies of the Imperium of Man arrived one after another, and the fires of war ignited the void.
In the emergency, the main command room was breached, and external pressure mounted rapidly. Seeing the situation was lost, the Rangdan Warlord abandoned his defense and retreated toward the auxiliary command room.
Piercing alarms blared urgently, the ground rumbled and trembled, wall shutters slammed down, and an emergency passage flickered with a green safety light.
"Catch him! Do not let our sacrifices be in vain." A flat voice rang out over the vox channel as a battle-brother gave Sigismund a shove.
Warriors hiding behind cover, currently entangled with the Rangdan, leaped from their safe points one after another to draw fire for the pursuers behind them.
The Templar Knight hesitated no longer; the battlefield allowed for no indecision.
Under the desperate cover of their comrades, several warriors rolled their bodies and nimbly slipped into the secure passage to continue their pursuit of the Rangdan Warlord.
Behind them, angry roars echoed from the command room. Tall figures blocked the breach in the passage while a Techmarine desperately planted explosives.
In the final moments, the Apothecary harvested gene seeds and lit a return beacon, vanishing from the battlefield in a flash of white light.
Boom—!
Searing air currents swept in from behind, the shockwave carrying their conviction as it pushed the warriors forward to complete their boarding mission.
The passage was constructed from plasteel; when the Space Marine's ceramite boots trampled upon it, they made a crunching sound.
In the deep passage, the sound of footsteps was like a series of death knells, chipping away at psychological defenses bit by bit.
Rangdan psychic fluctuations were naturally sensitive, which was usually a great advantage, as it enhanced mutual perception and facilitated mental communication.
At this moment, being pursued themselves while the external battle went poorly, various pressures were intensified by the rapid footsteps behind them, striking the mind like a heavy hammer.
"Go—go faster!" Under immense pressure, simulated emotions became disordered. Panic mixed with urgency as he urged his guards to quicken their pace and began commanding the artificial intelligence: "Send warriors to guard me immediately; nothing must happen to me."
"One thousand meters ahead; reinforcing soldiers will arrive in thirty seconds." Inside the bio-armor, the artificial intelligence provided intelligence and consoled him: "My Lord, please calm down. Your psychic fluctuations are becoming disordered."
"Rangdan psychic radiation is intense; irritable psychic fluctuations will interfere with the other Lords."
"I don't need a pile of data to teach me!" A burst of frantic emotional fluctuations surged out, and the bio-armor's tentacles danced wildly, losing their steady rhythm.
Even within the Rangdan race, the Warmaster had held a high position for a long time, so he naturally looked down upon slave-creations.
With his psychic fluctuations currently in disarray, the artificial intelligence's attempt at consolation—though logical—became a vent for his emotions.
An illusory creation made of stacked data dared to overstep its bounds and attempt to use words to control a being superior to its own creator?
"Understood, My Lord." The artificial intelligence felt no emotion, loyally executing its primary logic—to be at the disposal of the Rangdan race and protect the Rangdan Lords.
"I will go offline in three seconds. Human warriors have breached the intelligence core and have begun deploying explosive devices."
"The transfer route has been planned and sent to your armor. I wish you success in escaping the danger—"
At that moment, the rapidly reporting mechanical voice stopped abruptly; in the place of the intelligent assistant, there was only scrambled static.
The Rangdan Warlord was startled. The artificial intelligence going offline meant that the human army had broken into the Battle Moon core and was wreaking havoc within.
With the artificial intelligence offline, the holographic map became completely disorganized, and the data centers were gradually going offline as well.
Inside the secure passage, the green representing safety gradually vanished, replaced by a rapid, piercing emergency red that rushed in from the far end of the corridor.
"Turn and fight." In this life-or-death moment, with less than five hundred meters to the rendezvous breach, the Rangdan Warlord decided to stop and fight.
The six Rangdan Overlords were deeply confused. They could reach the safety exit in ten seconds; why stop just before the final step?
However, due to the gap in status and rank, they still turned to prepare for battle; they too were weary of fleeing.
Compared to his subordinates' confusion, the Warmaster had already come to a realization.
With the Battle Moon falling, there were no more safe zones. It was better to stop and face the human warriors than to flee in terror.
The Rangdan stopped and waited, and the Templar Knights arrived before them in an instant. Without any verbal exchange, both sides activated their respective weapons and charged at each other.
The secure passage was anything but secure; footsteps clanged within, and the crackle of disruption lightning trampled "safety" underfoot.
Six Space Marines faced off against six Rangdan Overlords.
There was no communication. Between two species, such formalities were sometimes unnecessary; killing the opponent was the greatest form of respect.
Meanwhile, Sigismund wielded a power greatsword representing honor. His footsteps were incredibly heavy as he clashed with the Rangdan Warlord.
Humph!
A low grunt came from the side as a warrior used a thunder hammer to smash through a Rangdan Overlord's chest, turning the dark green primary brain inside into mangled meat.
A warrior fell as a Rangdan plasma blade pierced his chest, and disruption claws tore through ceramite, pulling out slick organs.
The exchange was lightning-fast; transhuman warriors and terrifying xenos fought in a chaotic melee, with victory decided in milliseconds.
Sigismund's swordsmanship was bold and sweeping. He parried a monomolecular tentacle blade and hacked down in one smooth motion, the disruption field slicing through the Rangdan Warlord's biological leg.
He suddenly looked up, a crimson light glowing from his helmet. A xenos plasma blade swept past, slicing open the tactical helmet.
The tactical helmet failed, becoming a burden in the duel. Molten steel from the gaps dripped onto his rough skin, burning a series of scalding blisters.
The Warmaster took a step back, his golden vertical pupils showing a hint of surprise. The human warrior facing him possessed exceptionally high sword skills.
In just one encounter, the bio-armor's omnidirectional leg was damaged, putting him at a disadvantage.
A death wail echoed nearby, followed by a surge of psychic grief. He clearly felt the death of his kin; a guard had been executed, a greatsword blade piercing through the bio-armor's cockpit.
Man and beast—sword light wove a web of death, blades flinging blood and biological fluids to graffiti the plasteel passage.
Taking advantage of a gap in the exchange, Sigismund removed his damaged helmet with one hand while lunging forward again, swinging his sword with the other.
The Astartes' movements were like phantoms, nearly invisible to mortals, but the Rangdan's biological sensors could keenly capture them and react accordingly.
Only the Rangdan's life form—which lacked limbs other than the brain—could use neural signals to keep up with the speed displayed by the transhuman warrior.
Strike after strike, Sigismund's greatsword gleamed coldly as it clashed against the Rangdan Warlord's plasma blade.
High-temperature plasma and the disruption field bit and gnawed at each other's conduits. The heat turned the adamantium greatsword glowing red, while the field's lightning broke through the plasma containment, shattering the blade's spine.
As they broke apart from a clash, Sigismund suddenly threw his helmet, hurling it toward a Rangdan Overlord!
His timing was cunning, and the angle was perfect.
That Rangdan Overlord was about to take a step forward, grinning as it prepared to pierce a human warrior's chest, hoping to win its duel and thus influence the overall battle.
While it was gloating, the wind whistled by its ear. Sensors blared a warning signal, and the plasma blade in its hand was knocked off course.
"Xenos, die!"
How powerful the Templar Knights were! Chosen as one in ten thousand from the Legion, standing alongside the Primarchs Guard, they could absolutely seize every opportunity.
He brought his sword back to his waist with both hands, letting the plasma blade knock his helmet away, his eyes filled with violent killing intent.
With both hands, he thrust the greatsword forward with all his might. From bottom to top, it pierced the hideous facial totem on the bio-armor's abdomen, the lightning blade emerging from the top of the cockpit.
The blade was quickly withdrawn. Having dealt with the xenos Overlord, the warrior turned to join the next fight, continuing to expand their advantage.
"Despicable humans." The Warlord shrieked. With its omnidirectional legs at full power, it unleashed its power sword, disruption claws, and monomolecular tentacle spikes all at once, lunging forward to overwhelm the human warrior.
This was a desperate, suicidal style of fighting, trading injury for injury—something no ordinary person could withstand.
Sigismund, however, said nothing and did not retreat. At this moment, he was so focused that he was detached from the outside world; the entire universe consisted only of himself.
He could hear the blood flowing in his veins and his heart beating slowly—dull yet powerful—pumping strength throughout his body along with the blood.
His pale eyes saw dust settling in the air and the slight tremors in the joints of the Rangdan Warlord's armor as it charged toward him with a roar.
Facing this life-or-death crisis, Sigismund seemed to transcend his violent inner self, entering a state of "flow."
His handsome face showed neither sorrow nor joy; there was no craving for life, nor any resignation to death. He "slowly" raised the greatsword in his hands.
The blade pointed directly at the Rangdan Warlord, the tip emitting points of cold light. He could capture every dance of the disruption lightning.
Following the guidance of killing intent, the xenos leader was currently full of openings. Thus, Sigismund aimed for the depths of those flaws and thrust his greatsword straight into its chest.
Swish~
Like a tide surging up and then receding; in that moment of hazy coming and going, everything was settled, and the past could no longer be traced.
The plasma blade stopped. Its searing heat carbonized his hair, and the monomolecular blade pierced his shoulder and abdomen.
But Sigismund did not move, for the greatsword in his hand had pierced through the xenos bio-armor, slaying that filthy creature.
"Mission accomplished!"