Inside the 'Adventure's Courage', the brief period of rest was filled with a tense busyness.
The wounded needed treatment, equipment needed repair, ammunition needed replenishment, and the warriors needed to use this precious time to recover their strength, adjust their mindset, and prepare for the next, inevitably more brutal battle.
In the armory, Luna Aisa was leading several other human tech-priests, busy around Declan Catonia's severely damaged Terminator armor.
This valuable armor was almost reduced to scrap metal, with a dented chest plate, torn shoulder guards, and severely damaged leg hydraulic systems, especially the left arm joint, where only twisted broken ends and scorched wires remained.
Replacing the brand-new bionic arm was, ironically, the easiest part.
"The left shoulder guard servo motor assembly is completely scrapped and needs to be replaced entirely."
"The cracks in the chest ceramite composite armor plate exceed safety standards and must be replaced."
"The power pack's output stability has dropped by seventeen percent; a deep calibration is recommended."
Luna calmly reported each damage item, data streams constantly flashing in her bionic eye, directing the tech-servitors to dismantle and replace parts.
Her movements were precise and efficient, as if she wasn't repairing a battle-scarred killing machine, but completing a delicate work of art.
She knew that this armor had to be restored to combat readiness as quickly as possible; that hothead... still needed it.
Lina, meanwhile, obediently helped by passing small tools or wiping down the disassembled parts, stained with blood and green goo, with a clean soft cloth, her small face full of seriousness.
On the other side, Gaius was re-inspecting and maintaining his 'Hawkeye' sniper rifle.
After prolonged close combat and sensory overload, holding this precise and deadly long-range weapon again gave him a long-lost sense of calm and control.
He meticulously calibrated the scope, pressing specialized armor-piercing Bolter rounds into the magazine.
On the upcoming battlefield, a calm sniper might be more valuable than a berserk close-combatant.
Lex, meanwhile, had switched to a brand-new Heavy Bolter, heavier and with a faster rate of fire than his previous one.
His massive bionic limb easily lifted this deadly weapon, performing simple adaptive adjustments, a satisfied expression on his face.
Cliff also chose a Bolter sniper rifle; he preferred to provide precise fire support and tactical observation from medium to long range.
Sergeant Golden and Medic Sore were also busy with their respective tasks.
Gorden meticulously wiped down his Power Sword and Bolter Pistol, checking energy cells and ammunition reserves, his brow slightly furrowed as he considered the upcoming tactical arrangements.
Sore, meanwhile, replenished his medical kit, adding a large quantity of medicines and equipment to deal with Tyranid bio-toxins and trauma.
A silent understanding flowed between Second Squad.
They all knew that Prestian would be a tough fight.
Before departure, Gorden found Luna, "Tech-Priest Luna."
Luna stopped her work and looked up at him.
"You and Lina, stay on the 'Adventure's Courage'." Gorden's tone was unshakeable, "Dorian needs someone to monitor his bionic arm's adaptation and subsequent rehabilitation.
The ship's equipment maintenance also needs you.
More importantly... Lina needs care."
Luna's bionic eye gazed at him, silent for a few seconds, then she calmly replied: "Understood.
I will ensure Dorian's armor and bionic arm are restored to optimal condition, and complete the inspection of the ship's weapon systems."
She didn't question it, nor did she show any emotion, as if she was just accepting a perfectly normal mission assignment.
But both she and Gorden understood that the real reason was—the ground combat would be an unprecedented meat grinder, incredibly perilous.
Gorden couldn't bear to let Luna, a tech-priest, face such extremely brutal close-quarters combat.
Staying on the relatively safe ship was her best option.
Gorden nodded, said no more, and turned to leave.
Soon, the order to depart was given.
Gaius, Gorden, Sore, Cliff, and Lex, along with their comrades from the 7th Company and 2nd Company, boarded the Thunderhawk Gunship.
The hatch closed, engines roared, and the gunship formation detached from the 'Adventure's Courage', like arrows loosed from a bow, streaking towards Prestian's war-torn surface.
However, the journey to the surface was not smooth.
As soon as they entered the atmosphere, they were met with suicidal interception by countless Gargoyles and Devourers!
These flying Tyranids, as if maddened, crashed into the Thunderhawk Gunship's armor and engines with no regard for casualties!
"We're targeted! Too many of them!" the pilot shouted anxiously over the comms channel.
The Thunderhawk Gunship's assault cannons and side-mounted Heavy Bolters fired wildly, constantly blasting Gargoyles out of the sky, but their numbers were simply too great!
They clung to the formation like a persistent disease!
Through the viewport, Gaius could see the dense mass of flying Tyranids outside, and the acid and impact dents constantly exploding on the armor.
Suddenly, the Thunderhawk they were in shook violently!
The right engine was hit by a close-range acid spray from a Devourer, belching thick smoke, and instantly losing power balance!
"Right engine failed! We're losing balance! Prepare for an emergency landing!" the pilot roared in despair.
The Thunderhawk Gunship, trailing black smoke, plummeted downwards, spinning like an uncontrolled stone!
The violent vibrations and overload forced even the Astartes inside to cling to fixed objects!
Boom!!!
With a huge crash and violent tremor, the Thunderhawk Gunship finally slammed heavily onto a relatively soft muddy ground, skidding for hundreds of meters before coming to a stop, the cabin a wreck, alarms blaring piercingly.
"Quick! Get out of here! It could explode any second!" Gorden roared, kicking open the somewhat warped hatch.
The five men quickly rushed out of the crashed Thunderhawk, seeking cover on the spot.
Fortunately, despite the severe impact, the Astartes' sturdy physiques and Power Armor protected them; no one was seriously injured, only some minor concussions and scrapes.
They looked around and found themselves crashed on the edge of a war-torn plain, with the outlines of huge Hive Cities and towering smoke visible in the distance.
Closer by, the earth-shattering roars of battle and intense gunfire came like a storm!
They immediately headed towards the direction of the fighting.
Not far into their run, an extremely brutal and spectacular battlefield scene came into view!
They saw countless burly men, wearing gray wolf pelts, deep blue and yellow armor, with wild long hair and beards, almost never wearing helmets, their faces scarred and tattooed, letting out primal wolf howls, like true wolf packs, launching a counter-charge against an endless tide of Tyranids!
It was the Space Wolves!
Their fighting style was wild and efficient!
Chainaxes whizzed, splitting Tyranids in half, Bolters fired point-blank into the creatures' faces, and some even leaped directly onto the backs of large Tyranids, frantically stabbing with daggers!
They shouted, "For Russ!", "For the Allfather!", "For the Wolf Lord!", their offensive like a raging storm, completely disregarding their own casualties, in an almost insane manner, they forcefully pushed back the Tyranid assault!
Their style immediately reminded Gaius of one person—Declan Catonia.
They were practically a group of enlarged, wilder versions of Dorian!
All of them were reckless in battle!
"Tsk... that Dorian fellow, he really should be here..." Lex couldn't help but mumble, evidently having the same thought.
"He'd be a good fit for the Space Wolves," Gaius mused softly, his tone complex.
The ferocity of these Space Wolves greatly encouraged their brothers from the Ultramarines' 6th and 8th Companies fighting alongside them.
The blue battle line closely followed the gray tide, and the chorus of Bolters and chainswords once again drowned out the Tyranids' hissing.
The defensive line not only stabilized but even began to push forward!
Gorden immediately led his squad to join an Ultramarines squad already in combat, throwing themselves into the fight.
Gaius' 'Hawkeye' rang out again, precisely picking off distant Warrior Tyranids and Lictors attempting to ambush.
Cliff's Bolter sniper rifle specifically targeted those troublesome ranged units.
Lex's Heavy Bolter roared once more, clearing swaths of lesser Tyranids.
Gorden and Sore, meanwhile, stabilized the nearby defensive line.
With the addition of this fresh force, especially Gaius' and Cliff's precise long-range support, the situation in this area was quickly brought under control.
And in orbit above the planet Prestian, another larger battle, one that would determine the fate of the planet, was also raging in full intensity.
The 'Adventurous Courage' and the Blood Ravens Chapter's strike cruiser 'Arcane Knowledge', along with several subsequent ships belonging to the Ultramarines and Space Wolves, formed a formidable Imperial fleet that was besieging the heavily damaged but still massive Hive Ship!
Lances of light ripped through the Hive Ship's bio-armor; macro cannon shells rained down, exploding into huge fireworks of flesh on its surface; Lightning fighters and squadrons, like swarms of bees, tangled with the Tyranid's flying units, seizing opportunities to attack the mothership.
The Hive Ship, in turn, frantically released countless spore sacs and flying units, attempting to interfere with and approach the Imperial ships, while its massive bio-turrets continuously spewed deadly bio-plasma and bone spurs, putting up stubborn resistance.
The outcome in orbit would directly determine the final direction of the ground war. The Imperial Navy was doing everything in its power to bury this mothership, which brought death and destruction, entirely in the cold void.
On the ground and in space, two fierce battles were taking place simultaneously. Hope and destruction clashed violently in this star system. The members of Second Squad once again threw themselves into this endless war, for survival, for victory, and for that distant and faint glimmer of peace.
The cost of victory was heavier than anyone could imagine.
The battle in the Prestian system concluded as the colossal Hive Ship in orbit finally disintegrated into cosmic dust under the concentrated fire of the Imperial fleet. Without the mothership's command and support, the ground-based Tyranids fell into complete chaos and madness, eventually being gradually annihilated by the combined efforts of the Space Wolves, Ultramarines, and other Imperial forces.
At the same time, good news from other war zones in Ultramar also came back—the tendrils of the Hive Fleet invading systems like Salamas and Catonia were successively defeated by Ultramarines successor chapters, the Imperial Navy, and other Astartes Chapters that answered the call. The Tyranid tide ravaging Ultramar was finally temporarily contained.
However, beneath the halo of victory lay the loss of countless lives and the devastation of homes. Planet surfaces were scarred, Hive Cities turned to ruins, populations drastically reduced, and planetary defense forces almost wiped out. The list of fallen Astartes was heartbreakingly long, many company formations were incomplete, and a large amount of valuable equipment and vehicles were destroyed. Even two Dreadnoughts were completely silenced in the brutal street fighting on Prestian.
The surviving Ultramarines companies, bearing fatigue, sorrow, and the emptiness after victory, began to successively withdraw from the scarred battlefield, returning to the 'Macragge's Honour', which was like a mobile fortress and a spiritual symbol.
When the Thunderhawk Gunships of the 7th Company and 2nd Company slowly landed in the mothership's magnificent hangar, they were met not with the exhilaration of their departure, but with a heavy silence. Ground crew members silently watched these blue giants, covered in blood, with damaged armor, and many wounded, descend the gangplank, their eyes filled with awe and sorrow.
Sergeant Golden led Second Squad off the gunship, looking around the familiar hangar, yet feeling as if an age had passed. Gaius silently wiped his sniper rifle, Lex caressed the bullet marks on his newly replaced heavy Bolter, while Cliff and Medic Sore seemed preoccupied.
Soon, a piece of news spread among the returning warriors—Captain Moreno, with his two still-seriously-injured team members, Valerius and Kaldor, had quietly departed the 'Macragge's Honour' aboard a small transport ship, returning to the Grey Knights Chapter to report.
This news brought a secret sigh of relief to many, especially senior officers and members of Second Squad. The existence of Moreno's squad was like an unstable bomb; their fanaticism and ruthlessness had nearly caused internal conflict. Their departure was undoubtedly a good thing for the internal harmony of the battleship. Although no one spoke of it, an invisible pressure dissipated.
However, the time for farewells was not over.
Soon after, Captain Angerthas also received a direct order from the highest echelons of the Grey Knights Chapter, instructing him to immediately lead Hoss and Kazatoki to another star system where severe Chaos corruption had erupted, to carry out an urgent purification mission.
Before leaving, Angerthas' massive Terminator body specifically came near the Tech-Armory. He found Lina, who was helping Luna organize tools, her small face still showing a hint of post-battle apprehension.
The massive silver giant squatted down (a difficult movement for him), trying to make his voice sound gentle: "Lina."
Lina jumped, timidly looking up at the silver giant, who seemed to have stepped out of a myth, her small hand tightly gripping Luna's clothes.
Angerthas extended his enormous, yet gentle, finger and lightly touched the worn Ultramarines doll (representing Dorian) in Lina's arms, then touched the exquisite Grey Knights statue.
"Hold courage. Keep hope," his deep voice seemed to carry a comforting power. "The Emperor...is with you."
After speaking, he stood up, nodded slightly to Luna, who was standing beside him, and then turned and walked away with heavy steps, leaving a thoughtful Luna and a seemingly less frightened Lina.
In the bridge command center, the atmosphere was not as relaxed as in the hangar. Chapter Master Marius Calgar and Captain Cassius of the 1st Company stood before the massive astrogation table, their expressions grim.
"Chapter Master, the scale, timing, and attack routes of this Hive Fleet invasion, after post-analysis, present numerous anomalies," Cassius said, pointing to the Tyranid advance routes on the star chart. "They seem to have been guided by something, precisely avoiding several of our outer monitoring stations and striking directly at the core worlds. This is not something the Tyranid's pure Devourer instinct could achieve."
Calgar's gaze was sharp, his finger unconsciously tapping the table: "You mean, someone is manipulating them from behind?"
"Not direct manipulation of the swarm, that's almost impossible. But...it's possible they used some means to attract the swarm, or 'planned' the most lethal attack routes for them," Cassius said in a deep voice. "To be able to do this, and have the motive to cause such immense destruction to Ultramar..."
Their gazes simultaneously met on a certain area of the star chart—a dark and chaotic realm known as Commorragh, located deep within the Webway.
"Dark Eldar," Calgar's voice was as cold as ice.
Unlike their cousins, the Aeldari who live in Craftworlds, follow the 'Path' to curb their desires, and usually remain neutral or even occasionally cooperate with the Imperium, the Dark Eldar are the remnants of the fallen Aeldari Empire. They indulge in extreme sensory stimulation and the worship of pain, taking pleasure in tormenting and enslaving other sentient beings to delay their souls from being consumed by Slaanesh. They are cunning, cruel, masters of intrigue and lightning-fast raids, one of the most detested and dangerous races in the galaxy.
And ever since Primarch Roboute Guilliman awoke, revitalized the Imperium, and implemented a series of reforms, many Craftworld Aeldari had indeed maintained a fragile but real alliance with the Imperium, especially with the Ultramar region governed by the Ultramarines, to jointly combat greater threats. This made the Dark Eldar's backstabbing even more despicable and unforgivable.
"A bunch of bastards who only play with schemes in the shadows and feed on suffering!" Calgar's tone was filled with undisguised disgust and murderous intent. "They must pay for the blood spilled on Ultramar!"
He abruptly turned and issued an order into the communicator: "Order to the entire Chapter! All companies, complete repairs, replenish personnel, and repair equipment at the fastest speed! We don't have much time! Next, we will deliver to those wretches hiding in the Webway a 'return gift' they have long 'awaited'!"
The flames of vengeance burned in the eyes of the Lord of the Ultramarines. The Tyranid threat was temporarily over, but a new enemy had been identified. The hammer of the Imperium was about to strike that dark and painful lair.
The smoke of war had temporarily cleared, and the Macragge's Honour, on its journey to the next target of vengeance, had a rare period of relative calm for rest and recuperation.
Tense nerves needed to relax, damaged equipment needed maintenance, depleted stamina needed to be restored, and the warriors also needed some leisure to dilute the sadness of losing comrades and the cruelty of war.
In the hangars and corridors, there were no longer just hurried footsteps and the hum of weapons; there were also more conversations and even occasional laughter.
Astartes are also human, and despite being genetically enhanced super-soldiers, they also need relaxation and social interaction.
In a corner of the 7th Company's dedicated lounge area, Declan Catonia's characteristic booming voice echoed.
He wore his newly repaired Terminator armor, appearing even more formidable and imposing.
He was holding a cup of nutrient fluid in one hand, while his mechanical hand gesticulated exaggeratedly, boasting to his only two listeners—Cassius Champion, the 7th Company's Company Champion, also renowned for his valor—and Lina, who sat timidly beside him, clutching a plush toy.
"...The situation back then, don't even get me started on how dangerous it was!" Dorian spat, "That Executioner, it was two heads taller than me! It was as fast as lightning, silently sneaking up behind Hoss, that big oaf! Its green-glowing claws were about to rip out Hoss' heart!"
Lina's small face turned pale with fright, and she clutched Dorian's cape tightly.
Cassius Champion stood leaning against a wall, arms crossed, with a half-smile on his face, listening to Dorian's "epic."
He, of course, knew what kind of person Dorian was; he had also participated in the Battle of Catonia and knew who had killed the Executioner.
"No sooner said than done!" Dorian slapped his thigh, making a clang, "I didn't even think! I rushed forward in this new toy! That Executioner was quick to react, it turned and clawed me! Look here!" He pointed to a particularly deep scratch on his breastplate (which was actually from a Tyrant Guard earlier), "Right here! It almost disemboweled me!"
"And then? And then?" Dorian, completely immersed in his own story, continued to brag, "Could I be afraid of it? I braced against its claws and went in for a bear hug! I clamped its disgusting head tightly under my arm! Then I swung my precious Thunder Hammer!" He made a forceful smashing motion, "Just like that! Bang! You should have heard the sound! It was like smashing a watermelon! Green and white splattered all over me! Hoss, that guy, was still standing there dumbfounded, haha!"
He proudly concluded, "So, at critical moments, you still have to rely on me, Dorian! If it weren't for me, that silver-skinned big oaf would have been done for long ago!"
Lina's eyes sparkled, her small face full of adoration: "Lord Dorian is so amazing!"
Cassius Champion stifled a laugh and cleared his throat.
He, of course, knew that Hoss had killed that Executioner; Dorian had, at most, watched Hoss kill the Executioner.
But he did not expose Dorian.
On one hand, it was true that Dorian was seriously wounded while covering the retreat at Catonia, and his courage was commendable; on the other hand, watching this guy brag was, to some extent, a form of entertainment that could bring a touch of lightness to the oppressive post-war atmosphere.
He just said lightly, "Hmm, well done.
Next time, remember to be quicker, don't wait until they're almost done before you step in."
Dorian chuckled, completely missing the sarcasm in the words, and instead thought the Champion was praising him, proudly taking a gulp of nutrient fluid.
In an open area of the training ground, a more attention-grabbing activity was taking place.
Sergeant Golden was sparring with a veteran Sergeant from the First Company.
Both had removed their power armor, wearing only black training suits, and wielded unsharpened training power swords.
The First Company was the glorious head of the Chapter, and its veterans were all battle-hardened and skilled swordsmen.
Sergeant Golden, as a veteran Sergeant of the 7th Company, was also known for his calmness and solid tactical prowess.
Their duel attracted a large audience.
The veterans of the First Company naturally cheered for their experienced comrade, while the soldiers of the 7th Company desperately shouted encouragement for Gorden.
"Sergeant Golden! Take him down!"
"Old Carter! Let the boys of the 7th Company see what real swordsmanship is!"
In the arena, their figures intertwined, and the training swords clashed with crisp sounds.
Carter, the veteran of the First Company, attacked with seasoned skill and rich experience; his swordplay was broad and powerful, full of strength.
Gorden, on the other hand, was more agile, with steady footwork and tight defense, looking for openings in his opponent.
This was a contest of skill and experience, which captivated the onlookers, with cheers rising and falling.
This was not just a sparring match, but also a friendly exchange between companies and a boost to morale.
Meanwhile, in a corner of the armory, Lex encountered a "small problem."
He had disassembled his beloved new heavy Bolter, fresh from the Prestian battlefield, for routine maintenance.
His massive mechanical prosthetic arm seemed a bit clumsy for delicate work, or perhaps he had disassembled it a bit too "thoroughly."
The result was that the floor was now covered with a pile of shiny parts, springs, firing pins, and feed mechanisms...and Lex, with his wide, bell-like eyes, stared at this pile of parts, sweating on his forehead, trying to reassemble them, but found he couldn't find the correct sequence.
His thick fingers awkwardly fumbled with the tiny springs.
"Damn it...it wasn't like this just now..." he muttered in frustration, causing several Tech-Marines nearby, who were maintaining their own weapons, to stifle their laughter, only managing to hold it in and come over to help.
At the other end of the training ground, the scene was completely different.
Cliff and Gaius were undergoing physical and precision training.
Both were excellent long-range marksmen, and their training methods were quieter and more focused.
They first underwent a series of high-intensity physical training—weighted running, obstacle courses, core strength training—to ensure physical stability in any harsh environment.
This was followed by precision training.
They used Bolter pistols and sniper rifles equipped with laser simulators to shoot at fast-moving, flickering targets in complex simulated environments.
Data pads constantly updated their hit rates, reaction times, and shooting selection evaluations.
The two were silent and efficient, occasionally exchanging shooting tips or pointing out subtle movements the other could improve.
This was a silent competition and unspoken understanding unique to snipers.
In the refectory, although food for Astartes was primarily for energy replenishment, with taste being secondary, Thor was frowning at a grey-green, viscous, subtly odorous blob of nutrient paste on his plate.
He poked it with his spoon; the stuff was quite elastic.
"Tech-Sergeant Luna, honestly," Thor complained to Luna, who was also "enjoying" nutrient paste beside him, "I suspect the Adeptus Mechanicus guys might have mixed up the lubricant formula with the nutrient paste? The texture and taste of this stuff are pure torture for the taste buds!"
Luna, usually calm and rational, even had her bionic eye seem a bit dimmer at this moment.
She painstakingly scooped a small amount with her spoon, put it into her mouth, chewed a few times expressionlessly, and then swallowed it.
"...According to analysis, its main components are synthetic proteins, carbohydrates, vitamins, and mineral mixtures, theoretically capable of meeting the basic physiological needs of an Astartes."
Luna stated the facts in her flat tone, but paused, then added, "...However, the taste simulation system feedback...does indeed indicate a high degree of anomaly.
Logically, it cannot be explained why a flavor similar to...industrial lubricant...was added."
Even Luna had started to complain, which showed how potent this nutrient paste was.
The two exchanged glances, unusually reaching a high consensus on the point of "this stuff tastes truly awful," then silently, as if completing a mission, continued to eat the "fuel" on their plates.
After training, Gaius went to the armory to request a new helmet.
This was no ordinary helmet, but a model with additional targeting sensors, a slightly peculiar appearance, and a bird-beak-shaped breathing filter.
Such helmets provided better sealing and more advanced targeting assistance, especially suitable for snipers in harsh environments.
However, when Gaius returned to the lounge with this new helmet, Dorian immediately noticed it.
"Puhahaha!" Dorian pointed at Gaius' new helmet, laughing so hard he was bent over, his mechanical arm clanging against the floor, "Gaius! Why are you wearing a bird's beak? Are you planning to peck the enemy to death? Hahaha! That's so stupid!"
Gaius sighed helplessly, not bothering to pay attention to this guy.
He knew Dorian's aesthetic taste was still at the level of "the bigger and fiercer, the better-looking."
He carefully checked the helmet's functions, testing the connection of the targeting sensors.
For him, practicality and performance were far more important than appearance.
This "beaked" helmet would allow him to survive better and eliminate targets more precisely on the battlefield next time.
These seemingly mundane daily anecdotes and trivial exchanges formed a rare picture of tranquility during the lull in the war.
It allowed these giants of steel to temporarily shed their burdens, revealing a glimpse of human emotion and personality.
They knew such leisure was brief and precious, and soon, the horn of vengeance would sound again, sending them to the next battlefield.
But at least for now, they could catch their breath and enjoy this moment of peace amidst the fires of war.
After the brief rest period, it was time for vengeance against the xenos.
Inside the command bridge of the Macragge's Honour, a chilling atmosphere permeated.
The star-filled sky outside the massive observation window was replaced by a vast fleet—besides the flagship, there were several Strike Cruisers belonging to the Ultramarines Chapter, as well as ships from responding successor Chapters.
Their muzzles, without exception, pointed towards the planet below, which glowed with an eerie purple light, as if enveloped by an aura of pain and decadence.
This was a planet occupied and transformed by the Dark Eldar, one of their countless outposts of suffering scattered beyond the Webway.
Now, it became the first target of the Ultramarines' vengeful fury.
In the vast and dark galaxy, the name of the Imperium of Man often meant Exterminatus, endless armies, and merciless destruction.
For many xenos races, the fear brought by that Aquila symbol sometimes even surpassed the treachery of Chaos and the hunger of the Tyranids.
Because the Imperium's destruction was systematic, thorough, and uncompromising.
"All ships, lock on target.
Prioritize the destruction of enemy orbital defense platforms and space stations," Chapter Master Calgar's cold voice echoed across the fleet channel.
No warnings, no ultimatums.
The only response to the Dark Eldar's schemes was the most direct and violent destruction.
The next moment, the Imperial fleet's macro-cannon arrays and lance batteries fired simultaneously!
Countless destructive beams of light and solid shells rained down like a storm!
The Dark Eldar's bizarrely shaped defense space stations, resembling giant black crystal clusters, immediately retaliated, firing twisted dark matter energy beams and dense barrages of toxic crystal projectiles.
But in the face of the Imperial fleet's absolute superior firepower, their resistance seemed so pale and powerless!
A series of massive explosions erupted across the Dark Eldar's orbital defense network, like fireworks of death.
Space stations were torn apart, melted, and reduced to cold debris.
Air superiority was firmly seized by the Imperial fleet in an extremely short time.
"Landing forces, prepare!" The order was given.
In the hangar, engines roared, and the chilling atmosphere reached its peak.
The veterans of the First Company—the Imperium's most elite Astartes—were already fully equipped and ready.
Half of them wore the awe-inspiring Terminator armor, like blue steel giants.
Three ancient Dreadnoughts also stood among them, their weapon systems already ravenous.
Warriors of the Second Company and Third Company followed closely, checking their Bolters and Chainswords.
The eight members of the Second Squad were also in formation.
Dorian excitedly moved his bionic arm and Thunder Hammer, Lex checked his heavy Bolter, which he had finally reassembled, Gaius adjusted the sensors of his 'beakie' helmet, Cliff and Thor silently made their final preparations, and Gorden gave a pre-battle briefing.
Even Luna carried a backpack full of tools and spare parts, while Lina clung to her side, her small face showing both fear and excitement.
They were eager for battle, the fire of vengeance for Ultramar burning in their chests, vowing to make these despicable xenos taste the wrath of the Imperium of Man.
"For Ultramar! For the Emperor! Unleash destruction!" Chapter Master Calgar's voice, full of majesty and fury, echoed like the trumpet of final judgment through every Drop Pod!
"For the Emperor! For Ultramar!" A thunderous war cry responded!
The next moment, countless Drop Pods and larger Assault Ships screamed out of the Imperial ships' launch bays like a swarm of bees, trailing fiery plumes, slamming into the Dark Eldar world below like a meteor shower!
The First Company's Drop Pods, like precise steel nails, were the first to penetrate the planet's thin atmosphere, ignoring sporadic ground anti-air fire, and slammed violently into the central area of the main Dark Eldar city!
The hatches exploded open! The Angels of Death descended!
The Terminators were the first to charge out!
Their Assault Cannons and heavy Bolter rifles instantly spat out deadly tongues of fire!
They were followed by the Dreadnoughts, whose heavy footsteps made the ground tremble, their heavy weapons indiscriminately unleashing destruction!
The Dark Eldar were clearly stunned by this sudden, brutal, and direct attack!
They were accustomed to lightning-fast raids and plunder using the Webway, accustomed to the fear and despair of their victims.
When had they ever seen such a brutal, direct, in-your-face frontal assault?
Some Dark Eldar warriors and Kabalite fighters who reacted immediately launched a counterattack.
They fired dense barrages of Splinter Rifle rounds, weapons that could launch countless poisoned crystal fragments, extremely lethal to unarmored targets.
However, hitting the incredibly thick ceramite and plasteel composite armor of the Terminator armor, they only produced a series of clanging sounds, unable to leave even a white scratch!
It was as if they were tickling these steel giants!
But the Ultramarines' retaliation was devastating!
The roar of the Bolters was like the drumbeat of death!
Every Bolter round contained terrifying kinetic energy and explosive power!
The relatively light Dark Eldar armor, focused on speed rather than defense, was like paper in the face of Bolter rounds!
Bang!
A Dark Eldar warrior attempting to dodge with agile leaps was hit directly in the chest by a Bolter round in mid-air, instantly exploding into a scattered mess of flesh and fragments!
Boom!
A Dreadnought's twin-linked Assault Cannons swept across a twisted spire, tearing several Dark Eldar hiding behind it, along with the tower, into fragments!
Massacre!
This was a one-sided slaughter!
The veterans of the First Company advanced steadily like efficient killing machines, each step leaving countless severed limbs and torsos of Dark Eldar.
The Terminators were moving fortresses, and the Dreadnoughts were crushing hammers!
Following closely, the Drop Pods of the Second Company and Third Company also landed!
More Angels of Death joined the battle!
They spread out in squad formations, clearing out remaining enemies in buildings, purifying every corner with Chainswords and flamers!
Panic, like a plague, spread among the Dark Eldar!
These xenos, who prided themselves as masters of pain and fear, now truly experienced what despair was, what irresistible violence was!
Their boasted speed seemed ridiculous in the face of absolute firepower; their cunning traps were no match for the Astartes' steadfast advance; their soul-tormenting methods were useless now!
In their eyes, these blue giants were no longer "prey" or "playthings," but cold, relentless avatars of destruction from myth!
They were silent, efficient, merciless, as if devoid of any emotion, born only for destruction!
This pure, undisguised will for destruction terrified them more than any demon or monster!
The city center instantly became a charnel house.
The Dark Eldar screamed and cried, trying to escape in vehicles or fleeing in panic into the depths of the city, searching for Webway entrances.
But the Imperial fleet's bombardment sealed the sky, and on the ground were the relentlessly advancing Angels of Death.
The Second Squad was not immediately committed to the first wave of attack.
As a special squad, they were positioned relatively further back, responsible for clearing and consolidating areas, and always ready to deal with potential elite enemies or unforeseen circumstances.
They stood on a higher platform, overlooking the slaughter below.
Watching those Dark Eldar, who usually prided themselves on cruelty and elegance, now scatter like frightened rabbits, then turn into fragments in the muzzle flashes of Bolters, a mixture of vengeful satisfaction and cold resolve surged in everyone's hearts.
"Looks like we won't get a chance to act," Lex said with some regret, shouldering his heavy Bolter.
"Don't rush," Gorden said calmly, "The Dark Eldar won't just sit there and take it.
Their most cunning forces might still be hidden in the shadows.
Stay vigilant."
Dorian swung his Thunder Hammer, eager to fight: "Better bring some big ones!
Let me test the strength of my new arm!"
Gaius scanned the battlefield through the sensors of his beakie helmet, looking for any unusual energy readings or movements.
Cliff silently recorded the Dark Eldar's defensive weaknesses and retreat patterns.
Thor checked the medical kit, preparing for possible special toxic damage.
Luna ensured everyone's equipment was in good condition, while Lina hid behind her, watching the hellish scene below with both fear and curiosity.
The Ultramarines' vengeance had just begun.
This "return gift" to the Dark Eldar, in its most direct and brutal way, opened a bloody prelude.
------
Chapter Master Calgar's command was cold and absolute, echoing through every Ultramarine's helmet via the comms channel: "All units, be advised. This planet has been marked for purification. Mission: Extermination. Standard: No survivors. Repeat, no survivors. Eradicate these vile, treacherous xenos from the Emperor's domain. For Ultramar! For our fallen brethren!"
The order was clear and unambiguous, leaving no room for negotiation. This was not occupation, not conquest, but the most thorough — extermination.
With the command given, the scale and intensity of the slaughter instantly escalated to a new level. The Ultramarines were no longer content with merely defeating resistance; they began systematically and ruthlessly eliminating every Dark Eldar life form in sight.
The city's twisted and ornate streets and plazas now became a desperate racecourse. Countless Dark Eldar civilians — those who were not warriors, perhaps just scholars, artists, servants, or pure pleasure-seekers — fled in panic from their hiding places, attempting to escape the blue avatars of death. They screamed, cried, and pleaded in their elegant language, running towards the city's depths or what they believed to be safe webway nodes.
However, their only reply was the merciless roar of the Bolter and the cold snarl of the Chainsword.
The Ultramarines formed pursuit squads, hunting these fugitives like hounds. Bolter rounds accurately struck running figures, exploding them into scattered blood mist; Chainswords caught up to fallen wretches, tearing them apart with ease; flamers spewed forth fire, turning buildings where civilians hid into burning tombs.
There was no mercy, no hesitation, not even a hint of emotion. In the eyes of these Astartes, these crying and pleading xenos were no different from the armed warriors. They were all Dark Eldar, all accomplices or potential threats responsible for the Ultramar tragedy, all enemies of the Emperor and humanity. Mercy to xenos was cruelty to humanity. This was a creed etched deep within their gene-seed.
The Dark Eldar were not without organized resistance. Some Kabalite warriors and true elite units, like Mandrakes or Scourges, attempted ambushes and harassment, utilizing their familiarity with the terrain and their eerie abilities. They leaped from the shadows, firing lethal poison shards, or tried to tear open the Astartes' armor seams with power weapons.
However, against the Ultramarines' absolute firepower, heavy armor, and almost insane thirst for vengeance, this resistance appeared so futile and fragile. Their poison shards could barely penetrate power armor, and their sneak attacks often resulted in even more violent suppressive fire. Mandrakes attempting close combat would face the merciless slashes of Chainswords and Power Swords. The front line advanced relentlessly and steadily, leaving behind only fewer and fewer Dark Eldar resistance points and more and more corpses.
Even the Dark Eldar deployed their mighty war machines — three bizarrely shaped Eldar Titans, emerging from the city's depths with elegant yet deadly strides, their pulse laser cannons and sonic disruptors flashing with dangerous light.
However, they didn't even have time to fire their first volley!
The Ultramarines' heavy weapons teams, who had already locked onto them, along with the accompanying Dreadnoughts, opened fire almost simultaneously! At least dozens of plasma cannons and two small Volcano Cannons unleashed devastating energy beams and super-heavy shells, instantly engulfing them like a divine judgment!
Boom! Boom! Boom!!!
Deafening explosions erupted! Under such concentrated and terrifying firepower, the three Dark Eldar Titans didn't even have a chance to struggle, being directly blown into a sky full of flying metal fragments and burning wreckage! Their collapse completely crushed the last shred of hope for organized Dark Eldar resistance.
However, a deeper despair was yet to come.
The sky was once again streaked by a scorching meteor shower! The drop pods of the 6th and 7th Companies, like a second wave of hammers, slammed down on the flanks and rear of the battlefield, completely sealing off the main escape routes of the Dark Eldar!
More blue giants joined the battle, bringing an even stronger network of firepower and a tighter encirclement!
"Second Squad! Attack! Free hunt!" Sergeant Golden's voice rang out in the squad channel!
The members of Second Squad, brimming with suppressed fury, unleashed their pent-up rage upon the fleeing xenos like tigers released from their cages!
Every time Gaius' "Eagle Eye" sniper rifle fired, a Dark Eldar sub-commander or elite unit attempting to organize resistance would inevitably have their head explode. Cliff's Bolter sniper rifle specifically targeted heavy weapon gunners. Gorden and Sol formed a close-combat team, clearing remaining enemies within buildings. Lex's Heavy Bolter once again let out a furious roar, tearing apart swathes of Dark Eldar warriors attempting to regroup.
And Dorian, clad in his conspicuous Terminator armor, charged at the forefront like a god of vengeance!
"Hahaha! Run! Run faster, you scrawny little bean sprouts!" Dorian shouted crude taunts while raking the fleeing crowds with his Heavy Bolter rifle. "You're so good at scheming, aren't you? Come out and fight your Grandpa Dorian head-on!"
The barrage spewing from his Heavy Bolter rifle was like the scythe of death; each sweep turned dozens of Dark Eldar civilians and scattered warriors into minced flesh! Green blood and shattered limbs splattered everywhere!
Lex followed closely on his flank, providing cover and supplementary fire with his Heavy Bolter, forming a network of firepower that was a veritable storm of death.
They pursued a larger group of fleeing Dark Eldar, primarily composed of civilians. These xenos cried out, shoving each other, many faces filled with unprecedented fear and despair, a tragic contrast to their usual elegance and cruelty.
However, what awaited them was not an escape route, but Dorian's cold muzzle and Lex's merciless barrage.
"For Catonia!" Dorian roared, the barrel of his Heavy Bolter rifle glowing red from rapid firing. "For all our fallen brothers!"
The rain of bullets poured down. The fleeing group fell in swathes like mown wheat. Cries, pleas, explosions, and gunshots blended together, forming a cold and cruel symphony of destruction.
But the Ultramarines' wrath extended far beyond this.
Just as the ground slaughter reached its climax, the sky... seemed to darken.
An enormous shadow, far larger than a drop pod or even a Thunderhawk Gunship, slowly pierced through the clouds, descending towards the ground, accompanied by a heavy roar that made the earth tremble!
It was an incredibly majestic metal colossus! It had a humanoid torso and massive lower limbs, a regal skull-shaped head, and shoulders mounted with terrifying giant weapons — it was the Emperor's Angel of Death, the mighty ground unit of the Imperium of Man — a Warlord-class Titan! And not just one! It was a small Titan squadron!
Their massive feet landed on the ground with an earth-shattering thud, easily crushing the ornate Dark Eldar buildings. Their Volcano Cannons and Turbo-Laser Destructors on their shoulders hadn't even fired yet, but the terrifying pressure they exerted was enough to completely break the remaining Dark Eldar!
At the same time, Imperial warships in orbit also began to target objectives on the ground that were exceptionally large, conspicuous, and possibly important Dark Eldar nodes or iconic structures.
Macro-cannons and Lance weapons descended once more! This time, the target was the planet's surface!
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Huge explosions erupted throughout the city! Towering spires were blown apart at their midsections, massive domed structures were vaporized entirely, and plazas hiding webway entrances were blasted into bottomless craters! Indiscriminate orbital bombardment utterly pushed this Dark Eldar city, and even its underlying infrastructure, into the abyss of total destruction!
The slaughter continued, but it had become a complete purge. Under the merciless trampling of the Warlord Titans, the destructive bombardment of orbital warships, and the relentless pursuit of the Ultramarines, this Dark Eldar stronghold was being physically erased.
The Emperor's wrath, in its most direct and brutal form, descended upon these schemers. All that remained for them was destruction and death.
Second Squad's killing efficiency reached its peak, driven by hatred. They moved through the chaotic battlefield like a precise and deadly blue scalpel, specifically cutting through Dark Eldar clusters attempting to regroup or flee towards important directions.
Dorian and Lex formed the heavy firepower core, like a mobile storm of death. Dorian's Heavy Bolter rifle continuously spewed a barrage of bullets, tearing apart any xenos daring to appear directly in front of him, along with the cover they hid behind. His bionic arm seemed completely tireless, steadily controlling this roaring metal beast. Lex, like his shadow, cleared flanks and stragglers with more precise bursts, the low rumble of his Heavy Bolter intertwining with the roar of Dorian's weapon, playing a symphony of destruction.
"Left! That spire building! Sniper at the window!" Gaius' calm voice came through the squad channel. His "beak" helmet provided excellent vision and sensor data, always detecting hidden threats first.
Almost as soon as he spoke, Cliff's Bolter sniper rifle fired. In the distant building window, a Dark Eldar sniper who had just set up a Dark Lance had his head instantly explode like a rotten watermelon.
Gorden and Sol followed closely behind the heavy firepower group, responsible for clearing remaining enemies after the suppression fire, and checking the piles of corpses to ensure no one was playing dead. Gorden's Power Sword swung cleanly every time, while Sol occasionally used his Plasma Pistol to "sanitize" difficult corners.
Luna and Lina were protected at the rear of the squad. Luna's bionic eyes constantly scanned the surroundings, using her technical knowledge to determine which buildings might conceal traps or secret room entrances, and sharing this information in real-time with Gorden via her data-slate. Lina's face was pale, and she clutched her rag doll tightly; the bloody scene before her far exceeded her imagination, but she tried hard to bite her lip, not allowing herself to scream, just following Luna closely.
They pursued a Dark Eldar group attempting to escape towards the city's edge, where a backup webway entrance was suspected to exist. This group was mixed with some seemingly high-ranking Kabalite members and their escorts.
"Stop them! Don't let them activate the webway!" Gorden ordered.
Dorian roared, quickening his pace, the heavy footsteps of his Terminator armor like the drumbeat of death. The Heavy Bolter's barrage poured out even more densely, instantly tearing apart the rearguard and civilians at the back of the group.
However, just then, the ground suddenly shook! Not an explosion, but a deeper, more regular... tremor!
Thump!... Thump!... Thump!
It was as if a giant, reaching the heavens, was walking!
Everyone instinctively looked up —
They saw the Warlord-class Titan, like a moving mountain, striding towards their direction with its massive metal feet capable of flattening city blocks! The observation window of its skull-shaped head glowed with merciless red light, looking down upon the battlefield like ants below.
Its mere appearance, and the psychological pressure it brought, was enough to completely break the remaining Dark Eldar. Many fugitives simply collapsed to the ground, letting out desperate wails.
But the Titan's target was not these scattered stragglers. Its massive, cathedral-like body rotated slightly, and the terrifying colossal weapons on its shoulders—a Volcano Cannon and a Turbo-laser Destructor—slowly adjusted their angles, locking onto an incredibly magnificent black palace in the distance, adorned with countless tormented sculptures and spikes. That was likely the lair of the city's Dark Eldar ruler or its most crucial Webway hub.
"All units! Stay clear of the Titan's line of fire! Repeat, clear immediately!" An urgent warning came through the comms channel.
Second Squad immediately moved to the flank to evade.
The next second, the Warlord Titan opened fire!
First to roar was the Volcano Cannon! Countless scorching ballistic trajectories, like fiery whips wielded by a god, instantly lashed out at the black palace!
Boom! Rumble! Rumble! Rumble! Rumble!
An indescribable roar erupted! The magnificent palace was as if brutally ravaged by an invisible giant hand! The outer walls instantly became riddled with holes, then entire sections collapsed! The palace was completely engulfed by the fire and smoke of the explosion!
This wasn't over yet! Just as the Volcano Cannon raged, the Turbo-laser Destructor also finished charging! A thick, suffocating, destructive beam of blue-white laser energy, like the finger of a god, precisely shot into the core area of the palace!
There was no explosion, only ultimate annihilation! The areas directly hit by the laser beam, whether architecture, metal, or Dark Eldar, were instantly vaporized! Leaving behind an enormous, terrifying deep hole with edges that appeared like molten glass!
Just two volleys! That magnificent palace, symbolizing the Dark Eldar's rule and extravagance on this planet, crumbled like a sandcastle, turning into a burning, smoke-billowing ruin!
The Warlord Titan seemed satisfied with the results. Its massive head turned slightly, the red light from its observation window sweeping over other areas, searching for the next large target worthy of such firepower. Its heavy footsteps resounded again, walking towards another direction of the city, continuing its duty as an avatar of destruction.
The members of Second Squad, even Dorian, were deeply shocked by this world-shattering power and for a moment forgot to continue the pursuit.
"The Emperor above…" Lex murmured, his Heavy Bolter seeming like a toy in the face of such might.
"This is… the power of the Imperium…" Cliff whispered, his voice filled with awe.
Calgar looked at the ruins through his sniper scope, silent. This kind of power, while reassuring, also brought a hint of… reverence.
Sergeant Golden was the first to recover. He took a deep breath, suppressing the shock in his heart, and his voice returned to calm: "Don't stand there gawking! The mission isn't over! Those xenos are getting away!"
Only then did everyone snap out of it, realizing that the remnants of the Dark Eldar had taken advantage of the chaos caused by the Titan's firing to escape even further.
"Pursue!" Dorian roared again, his Heavy Bolter resuming its roar, "Not a single one of them will escape!"
Second Squad once again plunged into the chase. The terrifying firepower of the Warlord Titan did not instill fear in them; instead, it strengthened their resolve to completely purge these xenos. With such powerful support, any resistance was futile, and any escape was doomed to fail.
The iron heel of the Imperium would continue to mercilessly trample upon this fallen land until the last Dark Eldar stopped breathing.
The destructive aftermath of the Warlord Titan had not completely dissipated; the air was filled with a mixed scent of ozone, dust, and burning flesh. Second Squad quickly recovered from their brief shock, their gaze once again fixed on the remnants of the Dark Eldar who were fleeing towards the ruined outskirts of the city amidst the chaos.
Sergeant Golden led the charge, his Power Sword cutting through the smoke and dust: "Catch them! Purge them completely!"
The squad members sprinted like leopards. Although Dorian's Terminator armor was heavy, driven by his will for vengeance, his pace was not slow at all, his heavy footsteps like the drums of doom. Lex's Heavy Bolter growled again, picking off several Dark Eldar who had fallen behind and were trying to hide.
Soon, they caught up with this fleeing group, primarily composed of civilians interspersed with a few battle-scarred warriors, at the edge of a relatively open plaza strewn with collapsed statues and architectural debris. These Dark Eldar were utterly exhausted, watching despairingly as the blue giants, like reapers, closed in.
Lex grinned, raising his Heavy Bolter, and Dorian's Heavy Bolter also began to spin up, a cold killing intent spreading.
Just at this moment of despair, something unexpected happened!
From the crowd, a figure suddenly pushed aside the surrounding civilians and strode forward. Unlike the other disheveled Dark Eldar, she wore Kabalite Warrior armor that, though damaged, still showed exquisite patterns. In her hand, she tightly gripped a slender, curved Aeldari blade, shimmering with eerie green energy. Her face was a mix of fear and despair, but even more, a twisted, final pride.
She ignored everyone else, her slender eyes, flickering with pain and anger, locked onto Sergeant Golden, who was leading the charge. Then, she made a surprising gesture—she pointed the blade in her hand directly at Gorden, in a strange and ancient ceremonial pose!
This was not an attack stance, but a challenge! A declaration of war from an alien culture, demanding a one-on-one warrior's duel!
The air seemed to freeze for a moment.
All the Ultramarines stopped. Faced with this sudden provocation from a lowly xeno, they felt not respect, but absurdity and… offense.
"Hmph…" A cold sneer came from under Gorden's faceplate. Of course, he couldn't accept such a ridiculous duel. The Imperium's destruction required no ceremony, only efficiency.
However, before he could even order them to open fire, a massive blue figure stomped heavily, blocking his path.
It was Dorian.
"Oh ho? The twig-elf wants a duel?" Dorian's voice, amplified by his external vox-caster, was full of disdain and belligerence, "Sergeant, leave this scum to me! It's a good chance to stretch my limbs!"
Gorden frowned, but seeing Dorian's eager expression, and then looking at the Dark Eldar warrior opposite, who, though posturing, was clearly putting on a brave face, he pondered for a moment. Quickly dispatching this troublesome individual would also allow for faster cleanup of the civilians.
"…Make it quick." Gorden said in a deep voice, simultaneously making a gesture. Calgar and Cliff immediately understood, each finding a sniper position, their Bolter sniper rifles and "Hawkeye" steadily propped up, crosshairs firmly locked onto the Aeldari warrior's head and heart. If she made any unusual move, or attempted to use any insidious psychic or technological device, she would be instantly headshotted.
Lex's Heavy Bolter also slightly raised, intimidating the restless Dark Eldar civilians behind.
Given permission, Dorian let out an excited growl, magnetically locking his Heavy Bolter to his back, and his massive mechanical hand clanged as it grasped the formidable Thunder Hammer! Cracking blue electrical arcs sparked around the hammerhead.
"Come on! You spindly twig-elf! Let your Grandpa Dorian see what you're made of!"
A flicker of grim determination flashed in the Dark Eldar warrior's eyes. She knew there was no chance of survival, but at least she would die like a true warrior, not be slaughtered like cattle. She let out a piercing war cry, her body blurring into a black shadow, rushing towards Dorian with the astonishing speed characteristic of the Aeldari! The Aeldari blade in her hand thrust directly at the observation slit of Dorian's Terminator helmet!
This strike was lightning fast and cunningly angled!
However, though Dorian might not be the sharpest, his battle instincts and reaction speed, honed through countless bloody battles, were top-notch! He didn't even intentionally dodge, but simply snapped his head aside!
Screech! The Aeldari blade grazed his helmet, sending up a shower of sparks, but failed to inflict any substantial damage.
At the same time, Dorian's massive Thunder Hammer, with the force of wind and thunder, swung upwards from below! This hammer strike, though seemingly clumsy, cut off all possible escape routes for the Aeldari warrior!
The Dark Eldar warrior's face changed drastically; she could feel the terrifying power contained within that hammerhead! She frantically tried to retreat, but her speed was a fraction too slow! She could only barely bring her blade up horizontally to block!
Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!
A deafening sound of shattering metal rang out!
The delicate Aeldari blade, before the destructive power of the Thunder Hammer, was as fragile as a toothpick, instantly smashed to pieces! Shattered energy crystals and metal fragments flew everywhere!
The immense impact directly fractured the Aeldari warrior's arms, sending her flying backward like a broken kite, green blood spurting from her mouth.
But before she even landed, Dorian's massive body followed up like a phantom! His huge mechanical hand shot out like lightning, precisely grabbing the Aeldari warrior by the neck, lifting her off the ground like a chick!
The Aeldari warrior struggled futilely, her legs flailing, her eyes filled with pain and disbelief. She couldn't imagine how such a massive body could possess such terrifying speed and precision!
Dorian lifted her in front of him, and through his faceplate's observation slit, he coldly stared at the futilely struggling xeno.
"You… damned xenos…" Dorian's voice, muffled by his faceplate, carried a deep echo and undisguised killing intent, "Playing schemes… launching sneak attacks… killing so many of our brothers… and now you want to duel? Pleh!"
He gave the opponent no chance to speak or react, his mechanical fingers tightening suddenly!
Crunch!
A bone-chilling snap! The Aeldari warrior's neck, along with her spine, was effortlessly crushed! All her struggles ceased instantly, her head slumped limply, and the light in her eyes completely extinguished.
Dorian threw her corpse to the ground like trash, kicking up a cloud of dust.
A duel? No, this was just crushing a slightly stronger bug.
And with the death of this warrior who tried to defend her last shred of dignity, the Dark Eldar civilians she had briefly protected completely descended into hysterical despair. They cried out, pushing each other, attempting a final escape.
But what awaited them was only Lex's Heavy Bolter, which had been waiting for a long time.
"For the Emperor!" Lex roared, pulling the trigger!
The Heavy Bolter once again spat out deadly tongues of fire! Bolter rounds swept through like a storm of metal, tearing apart and pulverizing the defenseless Dark Eldar civilians in swathes! Green blood and dismembered limbs flew everywhere, staining this ruined plaza with a bizarre and cruel color.
The slaughter, after a brief interlude, continued in a more efficient, colder manner. The Imperium's wheel of destruction would not stop turning for any form of challenge or plea. For these xenos who dared to offend Ultramar, only complete purification was the sole answer.