The massive Ultramarines fleet, like moving mountains of steel, maintained a strict formation in the dark void, steadily sailing towards the Cadia Gate. After a long period of high alert, the warriors finally got a brief but precious period of rest. The low hum of the engines replaced the battle alarms, becoming the main melody within the warships.
In the Third Company's lounge on the Macragge's Honour, the atmosphere was far from silent. Declan Catonia was the absolute center of attention. He was still wearing his striking Saturnine Terminator Armor (he was determined not to take it off before the next battle), and the physical laurel wreath on his head and the laurel insignia on his helmet gleamed under the lights.
However, unlike his usual boisterous, gesticulating bragging, Dorian, though still excited, now possessed a rare calmness and... an almost reverent recollection.
"...You didn't feel it," his voice was much lower than usual, filled with deep emotion, as he spoke to Gaius, who sat opposite him, and Eilaas, who was squeezed beside him, eyes wide, "The Primarch stood right in front of me... That aura... Good heavens, I felt like the air around me was completely damn frozen! I didn't even dare to breathe loudly!"
He subconsciously touched the laurel wreath on his head, his movements careful, as if afraid of damaging this priceless treasure. "And then... he personally... put this... on me..." His words were somewhat broken, as if he couldn't find the right words to describe his feelings at the time. "And my helmet... he also personally put it on me... Those fingers... My Emperor..."
He shook his head, his face a mixture of immense pride and incredulous daze: "I, Declan Catonia, a rough man... How could I be so worthy... This life, it's truly damn worth it! Really! Now, even if the Primarch told me to immediately strip off this armor and charge naked into the Warp to wrestle with a Greater Daemon of Khorne, I wouldn't even blink an eye!"
These words were spoken with extreme sincerity, even a martyr-like fervor, completely lacking the usual exaggeration of his boasts. It was this rare honesty that made his words even more infectious.
Eilaas, for once, didn't retort or interject with a joke. She listened intently, her small face filled with admiration and longing. She could feel the heavy honor and heartfelt excitement in Dorian's words. To be personally awarded such a high honor by a Primarch was something every Imperial warrior dreamed of! She was genuinely and deeply happy for Dorian.
Gaius sat to the side, listening quietly, a gentle smile on his face. He was immensely proud of Dorian, and at the same time, he noticed the subtle changes in his old brother. The laurel wreath seemed to be more than just an adornment; it was like a baptism, giving this usually boisterous and reckless man a newfound sense of responsibility and a deeper understanding of his own identity.
On the other side of the Third Company's lounge, Company Commander Hek Hansson, Lieutenant Gorden, and Luna were also sitting together, conversing in low voices. Their gaze occasionally drifted towards Dorian, their faces showing smiles of contentment.
"That guy... finally looks a bit like someone who has received a laurel wreath of honor," Company Commander Hek Hansson chuckled softly, his tone carrying a hint of teasing, but more of a sentiment of "my son is growing up."
Lieutenant Gorden nodded: "Honor can change a person, especially honor from the Primarch. This is good for him; it will make him understand more clearly what his strength should be used for."
Though Luna said nothing, her eyes also showed approval. Dorian's bravery was unquestionable, and now that bravery was imbued with a more noble meaning and a clearer direction.
Even Draculas, who was usually taciturn and sat alone in a corner cleaning his weapon, subtly turned his white helmet in Dorian's direction, pausing for a moment. This veteran returning from the Deathwatch also seemed to have a different view of Dorian, this "reckless man." Pure valor is common, but to be adorned with such profound honor and not lose oneself, but rather become more grounded, is no easy feat.
However, the brief respite and conversation were quickly interrupted.
Company Commander Hek Hansson stood up and clapped his hands, drawing everyone's attention. The laughter in the lounge immediately ceased, and the warriors quickly stood up, their gazes focused on the Company Commander.
"Brothers, moments of glory are worth remembering, but battle is never far away," Company Commander Hek Hansson's voice returned to its usual seriousness and clarity. "We've just received battle deployment personally approved by the Primarch. Our Third Company will operate in conjunction with Captain Sibilus's Eighth Company."
He walked to the tactical table in the center of the lounge and activated the star map projection. A massive image of a planet appeared, its surface covered with strange purple fungal growths and countless biological tendrils.
"Target: 'Shield IV,' a critical node in the 'Unyielding Fortress' world cluster. According to reconnaissance, a vanguard spore cluster of the Leviathan has successfully landed and established a beachhead, frantically converting the planet's ecosystem, attempting to establish a Hive City hatchery. There are still a large number of civilians trapped on the planet who could not be evacuated in time."
The star map marked a huge Tyranid infestation zone and several precarious human refugee shelter signals.
"Our mission," the Company Commander's finger heavily tapped the narrow area between the infected zone and the shelters, "is to deep strike directly into this area, establish a solid ground defense line, and at all costs, prevent the Tyranid swarm from advancing towards the shelters and the planet's core power plant! We must buy time for subsequent forces to clear the infected zone and evacuate civilians!"
The mission briefing was concise, but the inherent difficulty and danger made everyone frown. Deep striking onto a surface heavily infested with Tyranids, establishing a defense line while outnumbered, and also having to protect civilians... This was undoubtedly a tough battle, even a near-suicidal mission.
The atmosphere in the lounge instantly became heavy, the previous ease completely gone. The warriors began to silently check their equipment, their eyes filled with determination.
Just then, another tall, imposing figure appeared at the lounge entrance—Captain Cassius. His arrival surprised everyone; Captain Cassius usually did not directly visit other companies' lounges.
Company Commander Hek Hansson immediately went to meet him: "Brother Cassius?"
Cassius's gaze swept over everyone in the lounge, finally resting on Gaius. His expression was unusually serious, even with a hint of an imperceptible... gravity?
"Brother Hek," Cassius's voice was low and formal, "By order of the Primarch, Sergeant Karl Hohn of the Third Company's First Squad is summoned to the Primarch's private meditation chamber immediately."
The Primarch summons?!
This news was like a giant stone thrown into calm waters, stunning everyone! The Primarch was actually going to summon Sergeant Karl alone?
The warriors, who had just been immersed in the tactical deployment, instantly focused their gaze on Gaius. Dorian's excitement froze, Luna looked at Gaius with worry, Lieutenant Gorden's brow furrowed slightly, and even Draculas stopped cleaning his weapon.
Gaius himself felt a chill, his heart involuntarily quickening. A sudden summons from the Primarch? At this critical moment? What for? Was it because of the incident on Brust? Or... the hidden danger deep within him... Countless thoughts flashed through his mind, but he maintained his composure on the surface. He stepped forward, straightened his posture, and gave Captain Cassius a standard military salute: "Understood, Captain."
Cassius nodded, giving Gaius a complex look, but said nothing more, merely stepping aside to clear the path: "Follow me, Sergeant. The Primarch does not like to wait."
Gaius took a deep breath, suppressing the myriad thoughts in his mind, tidied his appearance, and then strode out of the lounge, led by Captain Cassius, under the gaze of others, who were either puzzled, worried, or curious.
In the corridor, only his heavy, regular footsteps and those of Captain Cassius remained.
The Primarch's sudden summons, like an unexpected dark cloud, hung over the First Squad, which was about to rush into a bloody battlefield. Gaius's heart was filled with unknown apprehension.
Following the silent and imposing figure of Captain Cassius, Gaius walked through the quiet and solemn corridors of the upper deck of the Macragge's Honour. The decor here was far more ornate and ancient than the lower areas; the walls were inlaid with bas-reliefs and sacred relics chronicling the Chapter's millennia of history, and the air was filled with a faint scent of incense and the cold tang of metal. Every step felt like treading upon history, making one's mood involuntarily solemn and heavy.
Gaius's inner self was far from as calm as he appeared on the surface. Why had the Primarch suddenly summoned him alone? Was it because he had noticed him, a Sergeant, after Dorian's crowning ceremony? Or... was it related to the strange events on the planet Brust? Or... was it related to the secret he dared not speak of, deep within his soul?
Tzeentch's whispers and the shadow of the Mark of Change, like a cold viper, once again raised their heads in his heart. Had the Primarch sensed something?
Captain Cassius stopped before an exceptionally thick bronze door, intricately carved with the Imperial Aquila and the Ultramarines' insignia. On either side of the door, two Victrix Guard warriors stood like golden statues, their gazes cold and sharp. They swept over Gaius, and after confirming he posed no threat, they subtly nodded.
"The Primarch is inside," Captain Cassius said softly to Gaius, stepping aside. There was a hint of an imperceptible, complex emotion in his eyes. "Go in, Sergeant. Answer every one of the Primarch's questions truthfully."
After speaking, he did not leave, but stood guard outside the door like a sentinel.
Gaius took a deep breath, suppressed all his tumultuous thoughts, straightened his attire, and then stepped forward.
The bronze door silently slid inwards, revealing a relatively spacious yet exceptionally simple and solemn room behind it. There were no excessive decorations here, only bookshelves embedded in the walls, filled with ancient scrolls and data-slates. In the center of the room, a massive desk, polished from a single piece of obsidian, was placed. At the far end of the room was a huge observation window, almost occupying the entire wall, beyond which lay the boundless universe, dotted with stars.
A towering and majestic figure stood with his back to the door, at the observation window, silently gazing at the endless starry sky. Just by standing there, he seemed to be the center of the entire room, and even this part of the universe, exuding a powerful aura that commanded both awe and a sense of closeness.
Gaius didn't hesitate in the slightest. He took a few steps forward, stopped in the center of the room, dropped heavily to his right knee, clenched his right hand into a fist, and forcefully struck his left chest over his heart, producing a crisp metallic clang. He lowered his head and said in as steady a voice as possible:
"Sergeant Karl Hohn of the Third Company, First Squad, reporting as ordered to meet, Primarch!"
The majestic figure slowly turned around. Roboute Guilliman, the Primarch, his gaze fell on Gaius like a tangible weight, containing endless wisdom, the accumulation of ages, and a hint of... an unreadable scrutiny.
"Rise, Sergeant Karl Hohn." Guilliman's voice was calm yet carried an undeniable authority, clearly reaching Gaius's ears.
"Yes, Primarch." Gaius rose as instructed, but still kept his head slightly bowed, maintaining a respectful posture. He could feel the Primarch's gaze carefully appraising him, as if trying to see through his armor, directly into the deepest part of his soul.
After a brief silence, Guilliman slowly spoke, his words causing Gaius to tremble.
"Gaius, I remember you." Guilliman's voice seemed to carry a barely perceptible sigh, "And I also remember... Tech-Sergeant Elisa Cole."
Elisa!
The name struck Gaius like lightning! He suddenly looked up, his eyes filled with incredulous shock and a surge of immediate grief! The Primarch... still remembered her?! Remembered that she had sacrificed herself almost forty years ago, a mere ordinary Astartes Tech-Sergeant?!
"...I regret her sacrifice," Guilliman continued, his gaze seemingly piercing through time, returning to a moment in the past, "A loyal and brave daughter, who fought to her last breath for the Imperium's great cause, for her comrades. Her name deserves to be remembered."
Gaius felt a tightness in his throat and a sting in his nose. He had never expected that the first thing the Primarch would mention upon summoning him was Elisa! This sudden remembrance and affirmation filled his heart with complex emotions, both gratitude and an even deeper sadness.
"Thank you... Primarch..." Gaius's voice was hoarse, "Elisa... she truly was an exceptionally good warrior and comrade."
Guilliman nodded slightly, seemingly unwilling to dwell too much on sorrowful memories. He changed the subject, his gaze becoming even sharper and more profound, like two blades capable of dissecting any pretense:
"I summoned you here, Gaius, for another matter. A matter concerning yourself, and potentially the Chapter and even the Imperium's safety."
Gaius's heart sank. It's here! The thing he worried about most!
"Over thirty years ago, on the borders of Ultramar," Guilliman's voice was steady but carried immense pressure, "Karlos Fateweaver, a Lord of Change of Tzeentch, once attempted to forcibly take you. It claimed you were some sort of... 'Chosen of the Gods'."
Gaius held his breath, feeling his back instantly soaked with cold sweat. The Primarch knew, after all! And knew in such detail!
"According to Marius's report, ultimately, it was the Emperor's great power that manifested, repelling Karlos and purifying the unnatural power within you." Guilliman's gaze was fixed on Gaius, "However, just recently, on the planet Brust, according to the vague and contradictory reports from Lieutenant Gorden and Tech-Sergeant Luna... it seems an extraordinary power intervened again, saving you and your squad, and... it highly matched the aura of the Lord of Change."
He took a step forward, and the immense pressure made Gaius almost gasp for breath.
"Tell me the truth, Gaius." Guilliman's voice deepened, yet carried an irresistible force, "What other connection do you have with the Lord of Change, with Tzeentch? What was that power that appeared on Brust? Was the Emperor's purification not entirely successful?"
Facing the Primarch's all-seeing gaze and direct, unavoidable questioning, Gaius knew that any concealment or deception would be futile, even sacrilegious.
He knelt on one knee again, lowered his head, and in a slightly trembling but utterly honest voice, recounted everything that had happened on Brust, what Luna had witnessed, and his own vague and terrifying memories. This included the bizarre dark space, the shadowy scholar figure that cast a black pall, the tempting and threatening whispers, the cold and vast supreme power that forcibly flooded his body, and the horrifying scene of the Chosen of Khorne being annihilated with a wave of a hand...
"...That's how it was, Primarch." Gaius's voice was filled with pain and self-reproach, "I... I don't know what it was... but it did use that terrifying power through my body... and then it disappeared... I didn't feel corrupted or marked... but I'm certain, that was Tzeentch! It was the Lord of Change itself!"
He looked up, his eyes filled with fear and confusion: "Primarch... the Emperor's purification... was it really..."
Guilliman listened silently, his face devoid of any expression, only the light in his deep, star-like eyes flickered intensely, as if performing incredibly complex calculations and deductions.
After a long moment, he slowly spoke, his voice incredibly grave: "The Emperor's purification dispelled the overt corruption within you at the time. But Tzeentch's power is most adept at hiding and planting seeds. It has never truly given up on you, Gaius."
This statement, like a final judgment, sent Gaius's heart plummeting into an bottomless abyss.
"Karlos's previous actions might have just been to attract attention, or to conduct some kind of... test." Guilliman continued his analysis, his wisdom far surpassing ordinary men, "And this time, Tzeentch itself intervened personally, in a seemingly 'helpful' manner, its purpose is certainly not as simple as salvation. It is demonstrating power to you, planting a seed called 'dependence' and 'temptation' deep within your soul, waiting to sprout."
He walked in front of Gaius, looking down at him: "It is waiting for a moment, Gaius. Waiting for you to fall into despair, waiting for you to doubt and despair over everything you protect... Then, this seed will erupt, it will make you willingly embrace that power, and thereby... completely transform you into its Daemon Prince."
Gaius felt utterly cold, as if plunged into an ice cave. The Primarch's analysis perfectly explained the vague unease deep within him and the content of Tzeentch's whispers!
"Then... what should I do, Primarch?" Gaius's voice carried a hint of desperate trembling, "Should I... should I undergo purification immediately? Or..." He didn't even dare to voice the worst possible outcome.
Guilliman was silent for a moment, then slowly shook his head: "No. If Tzeentch's mark is already buried so deep that even I cannot easily detect it, then conventional purification methods are likely ineffective, and might even trigger it prematurely."
His gaze became extremely sharp: "Listen, Gaius. What I am entrusting you with now is an extremely difficult, even cruel, task."
Gaius looked up, staring blankly at the Primarch.
"You need to use all your willpower to resist that deeply buried temptation." Guilliman's voice was as heavy as a mountain, "You must constantly guard against inner wavering, against those moments that seem like 'despair'. You must prove to me, to your Chapter Master, that your will can overcome the whispers of the Ruinous Powers!"
"At the same time," he paused, his eyes deep, "you must continue to fight, like an ordinary Ultramarines Sergeant, for the Imperium and for humanity. I will watch you closely. If... if it ultimately proves that the mark cannot be controlled, or if you make the wrong choice..."
Guilliman did not finish, but the unspoken meaning sent shivers down Gaius's spine.
"This is a war happening deep within your soul, Gaius." Guilliman said finally, "Its danger far exceeds any external battlefield. Are you ready?"
Gaius knelt on the ground, feeling an unprecedented heavy pressure on his shoulders, almost crushing him. But finally, he gritted his teeth, a flash of determination in his eyes. He pounded his chest heavily again:
"For the Emperor! For the Primarch! I... I am ready! I will use my life and soul to prove my loyalty to the Imperium!"
"Very good." Guilliman nodded slightly, "Remember your oath. Now, return to your company and prepare for the upcoming battles. Regarding today's conversation, you are not to reveal it to anyone."
"Yes, Primarch!"
Gaius stood up, saluted the Primarch, then turned and left the antechamber with somewhat heavy steps.
The bronze door slowly closed behind him.
Guilliman stood alone at the observation window, gazing at the endless stars outside, his gaze incredibly profound. He murmured to himself, as if speaking to the void:
"Tzeentch... what exactly are you plotting... and what secrets are hidden within this warrior..."
The vast Ultramarines main fleet, like moving mountains of steel, slowly sailed into the Cadia Gate star system, a void filled with defensive platforms and debris.
The atmosphere of grim determination replaced the previous high spirits; every warship was like a taut bowstring, ready to unleash destruction upon the approaching swarm.
Each company began to detach from the main fleet in an orderly fashion, following the Primarch's strategy, and heading to their designated battlefields.
The roar of engines and the flashing of navigation lights painted a grand yet melancholic picture of departure in the cold expanse of the universe.
Inside the massive hangar of the Macragge's Honour, however, the atmosphere was somewhat somber.
The warriors of the Third Company were making their final boarding preparations; they would travel aboard the strike cruiser Cleansing Blade, along with the Eighth Company's Fist of Contrition, to the planet Fortress IV, which had already been defiled by the swarm.
Eilaas stood among the busy warriors, appearing particularly small.
Her little face was already streaked with tears, her eyes red-rimmed, but she bravely held back her sobs, biting her lip hard as she said goodbye to each of the warriors she knew.
She first walked up to Lieutenant Golden, looked up at him, and said with a choked voice, "Lieutenant Golden… please… you must be careful…"
Lieutenant Golden knelt down, a rare gentle expression on his usually stern face, and gently patted Eilaas's shoulder: "Don't worry, Eilaas.
We will drive those bugs out.
Watch the home front, and wait for us to return."
Next was Gaius.
Eilaas looked at him, and her tears fell even more fiercely: "Lord Gaius… you must also return safely…"
Gaius's heart was also a mix of emotions; he forced a comforting smile: "I will, Eilaas.
Study your new inventions well; perhaps by the time we return next, we'll be able to use them."
Then came Dorian.
This boor, who had just achieved immense glory, wearing his shining Terminator Armor, looked at Eilaas, who was crying her eyes out, somewhat at a loss.
In the end, he could only clumsily touch her hair with his massive Power Fist and say in a muffled voice, "Don't cry, little one!
Watch me go down there and smash those damned bugs into paste, then bring you back a big bug's tooth as a present!"
His words did little to comfort her; instead, they made Eilaas even sadder.
She finally walked up to Luna and could no longer hold back her sobs.
Luna looked at the girl she had practically watched grow up, her cold face softening.
She knelt down, met Eilaas's gaze, gently wiped away her tears, and then performed an extremely rare and tender gesture—she lowered her head and lightly kissed Eilaas's forehead.
"We will return safely, Eilaas," Luna's voice was soft but carried an undeniable firmness, "Everyone will.
The Emperor protects His loyal warriors."
Finally, she even remembered to nod slightly towards Draculas, who stood silently a little further away, at his white helmet.
Eilaas watched the warriors board the Thunderhawk Gunships and transport ships one by one, tears rolling down her face like broken pearls.
She had heard that the Third Company's mission this time was extremely dangerous: to directly air-drop into the city center, already occupied by the swarm, to rescue people… She would stay here, in the workshop, and silently pray for each of them, wishing that the Emperor would protect these loyal blue giants and ensure their safe return.
The Cleansing Blade and the Fist of Contrition detached from the main fleet, their engines spewing dazzling exhaust plumes, like two blue blades, resolutely piercing towards the planet Fortress IV, whose surface was covered in an ominous purple bio-carpet.
Upon entering the planet's orbit, through the observation windows, the shocking sight on the ground was clearly visible.
Among the ruins of massive cities, countless Tyranid creatures writhed, and the purple bio-carpet spread like a living entity, devouring all man-made structures.
Sporadic explosions and flashes of fire indicated that resistance still existed, but more prevalent were despair and destruction.
The final orders were transmitted to every warrior's comm-unit:
"Third Company squads, mission objective: air-drop into the central city area, prioritize searching for and escorting surviving civilians to the designated underground shelters!
The Eighth Company will coordinate with the Planetary Defense Forces and the remnants of the Cadian Regiment to establish a defensive line on the periphery, blocking the main Tyranid offensive!
Upon completion of the evacuation mission, the Third Company will immediately engage on the front lines!
For the Emperor!
For Ultramar!"
"For the Emperor!
For Ultramar!" the warriors roared.
The next moment, countless blue drop pods, like a meteor shower, ejected from the launch bays of the two strike cruisers, trailing fiery wakes, piercing through the atmosphere, and plummeting towards the hellish city below!
After violent tremors and impacts, the First Squad's drop pod crashed heavily onto a relatively open large plaza.
As soon as the hatch opened, deafening screams, cries, and the distinct, horrifying shrieks of Tyranid creatures assaulted them!
In the plaza, countless terrified civilians were desperately fleeing, their faces etched with fear and despair.
Behind them, a tidal wave of Tyranid beasts surged—howling Rippers, leaping Blade-bugs, bone-spike-shooting Termagants… They were like a wave of death, mercilessly devouring the stragglers!
"For the Emperor!
Purge these xenos!" Gaius was the first to rush out of the drop pod, his "Hawkeye" sniper rifle instantly detonating the head of a Ripper lunging at women and children.
Immediately following, Dorian's massive body, clad in Saturn-pattern Terminator Armor, descended like a god of war!
He didn't even bother with his Bolter; his left Power Fist struck down with tremendous force!
Boom!!!
The ground cracked, debris flew, and four or five Tyranid beasts at the forefront were instantly smashed into pulp!
"Come on!
You disgusting stink bugs!" Dorian's roar, more ferocious and violent than a Greater Daemon of Khorne, echoed across the entire plaza, even temporarily overpowering the shrieks of the swarm!
"Your opponent is me!"
His roar seemed to possess some magic, actually attracting the attention of a large number of Tyranid creatures, buying precious escape time for the panicked civilians.
Luna swiftly deployed her servo-arms, her heavy flamer spewing scorching flames, burning a containment line through the swarm.
Draculas, meanwhile, was like a cold killing machine, his Storm Bolter and Incinerator precisely eliminating any threats attempting to approach the squad.
The drop pods of other squads also landed, and blue figures rapidly spread out among the ruins and streets, engaging in brutal close-quarters combat with the surging tide of bugs.
The roar of Bolters, the snarl of chainswords, the hum of plasma weapons, and the shouts of the warriors intertwined with the shrieks of the swarm, forming a bloody and cruel symphony of war.
Just as the Third Company's squads were fully engaged in blocking the bug tide, attempting to stabilize the line and guide civilians towards the shelters, the keen-eyed Draculas noticed an anomaly at the end of a narrow street in the distance.
A woman, dressed in tattered civilian clothes, tightly clutching a baby wrapped in rags, was limping desperately towards the plaza.
Her left leg appeared injured, blood soaking her pant leg, and each step seemed incredibly difficult and painful.
And less than twenty meters behind her, four or five tall Warrior Bugs, wielding sharp bone blades, were rapidly giving chase!
Their cold compound eyes gleamed with the excitement of the hunt; to them, these two fragile lives were merely easy prey and biomass!
The mother was about to be overtaken!
Draculas did not hesitate!
His white Terminator helmet sharply turned in that direction, and his power pack instantly overloaded its output!
"Cover me!" he growled, without even time for a detailed explanation, his massive body, like a cannonball, charged towards that street with unprecedented speed!
His Incinerator flamer spewed a searing jet, temporarily forcing back several Rippers surging from the side, clearing his path!
He was like a sudden steel bulwark, crashing violently into the path of those Warrior Bugs!
His Storm Bolter roared at close range, instantly pulverizing the upper body of one Warrior Bug at the forefront!
His Power Fist swung in an arc, smashing another Warrior Bug attempting to bypass him, its carapace shattering as it was sent flying backward!
"Get out of here!
Go to the underground shelter!
Quick!" Draculas's cold voice boomed through his external vox-caster, shouting at the mother, while using his body and firepower to staunchly hold back the remaining Warrior Bugs.
The mother was stunned by the sudden rescue, but her survival instinct made her react instantly.
She cast a grateful glance at the tall blue figure, gritted her teeth, endured the severe pain in her leg, and desperately clutching the baby in her arms, stumbled towards the direction Draculas had come from, towards the plaza where intense fighting was raging.
Her escape route seemed to pass through a corridor forged by the Ultramarines with their lives!
She staggered past an Ultramarine who was fiercely grappling with a giant Serpent-bug, the warrior using his chainsword to lock the Serpent-bug's bite, buying her a chance to slip past.
She passed through a small defensive line formed by three Ironclad Pattern Terminators, who used a wall of death composed of Storm Bolters and Power Fists to temporarily hold back the surging bug tide, allowing her to pass.
She even ran past Dorian, who was pouring out fire and roaring furiously; Dorian's berserk combat attracted the vast majority of attention, and no bugs noticed the tiny, fleeing figure.
She ran beneath a Dreadnought that was unleashing fire from its twin assault cannon and missile launcher at dense concentrations of bugs in the distance; the Dreadnought's heavy footsteps and deafening gunfire provided her cover.
This path, paved with steel, blood, and roars, was not an easy one!
A warrior, who was taking potshots at distant Termagants, suddenly saw a biological bone spike speeding towards the mother; he unhesitatingly stepped sideways!
Thwack!
The deadly bone spike embedded itself fiercely in his shoulder guard, the immense impact causing him to stumble!
Before he could regain his footing, the bone blade of another Warrior Bug, which had seized the opportunity to lunge, had already slammed into his chest plate!
"For the Emperor!" the warrior let out a final roar, thrusting his chainsword forward to precisely saw open the head of a Warrior Organism! But at the same time, another biological bone spike, originating from the shadows, pierced through his helmet's eye lens... A warrior saw a Genestealers pounce like a phantom from the shadows of the ruins, its claws aimed directly at the mother's back! He roared and charged forward, his Power Axe whistling through the air as it chopped down, cleaving the vile Xenos in half! But the next second, a transparent outline shimmered from behind him—it was a Lictor! Its sharp bone blades instantly pierced his chest... Similar scenes were constantly unfolding. To buy that precious few seconds for the mother holding her infant, blue giants continuously and resolutely used their bodies to block fatal attacks, exchanging their lives for her progress.
The mother dared not look back; she didn't even dare to glance at the horrific battle raging on both sides. Tears welled in her eyes, her heart filled with endless gratitude and unspeakable sorrow, she could only run, limping desperately, her infant in her arms seemingly sensing the danger, letting out a faint cry.
Her only thought was: Run! Survive! The warriors' sacrifices must not be in vain!
This "path of life," paved with the lives of Ultramarines, was tenaciously carrying this tiny hope towards the safe shore. And the slaughter continued.
The ferocity of the ground battle escalated sharply as the Hive Mind directed more attention to this stubbornly resisting area. The Ultramarines' valiant counterattacks and successful evacuation of some civilians clearly enraged the cold, collective consciousness deep within the star sea.
The ground began to rumble with heavier, more heart-pounding tremors. From the shadows of distant ruins, low growls like muffled thunder and the grating sound of carapaces rubbing together, different from smaller combat beasts, could be heard.
Large Tyranid combat beasts began to join the battle!
First to burst through the smoke screen were several Tyrant Guards, like mobile fortresses. Their massive bodies were like living tanks, their thick biological carapaces embedded with venomous bio-cannons. They advanced steadily towards the Ultramarines' defensive line with earth-shaking steps, bombarding any target that dared to obstruct them with dense biological projectiles.
Following closely, more awe-inspiring behemoths appeared: Biovores spitting corrosive spores, horrifying Malanthropes wielding massive tentacles and scythe-like limbs, and most deadly of all—several Executioners, like living battering rams!
Dorian had just smashed the head of the Carnifex he was entangled with into a pulp with his Power Fist, green slime splattering all over him. He was gasping for breath, and before he could even look for his next target, he heard the booming sound of a collapsing building from his side!
An Executioner, far larger than a Tyrant Guard and resembling a giant spider-scorpion hybrid, had directly crashed through an already crumbling residential building for cover. Like an out-of-control train, it charged towards him with destructive kinetic energy! Its pair of massive, glowing scythe-like forelimbs were already raised high, ready to tear Dorian and his Terminator Armor to shreds!
"Damn it!" Dorian only had time to curse. He couldn't dodge at all, so he could only press his left arm tightly in front of him, his Power Fist accumulating energy, preparing to endure the terrifying impact!
Boom!!!
A colossal roar like a landslide!
Dorian's massive Saturnine Terminator body was sent flying backward off the ground by the Executioner's full-force charge! He crashed violently into the wall of a building behind him, like a giant stone hurled by a catapult, embedding himself entirely within it, the wall covered in spiderweb-like cracks!
"Dorian!" Gaius exclaimed from nearby, his sniper rifle firing repeatedly at the Executioner's compound eyes and joints, but unable to inflict fatal damage!
Even worse, accompanying the appearance of these large combat beasts were countless, even more agile and deadly Carnifex that burrowed out of the ground or leaped down from the tops of ruins! These creatures, resembling giant centipede-mantis hybrids, were astonishingly fast. They mercilessly harvested the lives of civilians who hadn't made it to shelters in time, as well as the struggling Planetary Defense Forces and Cadian Regiment soldiers! The laser guns and makeshift fortifications of the human soldiers were like paper in front of them!
On the other side, Draculas had just smashed the head of the last Warrior Organism with his Power Fist, but a deep claw mark, emitting green corrosive smoke, was left on his Indomitus Pattern Terminator's left arm! His shoulder-mounted heavy flamer was completely damaged, its lines broken, and fuel leaking.
Before he could catch his breath, he saw several Carnifex pouncing on a group of civilians hiding behind a broken wall! He immediately raised his usable Storm Bolter and fired, but the Carnifex were too fast and numerous!
Just then, the ground beneath the Dreadnought, "Ancient Glory," which had been providing powerful fire support, suddenly heaved and cracked violently!
Rumble!
A Trygon, extremely massive and resembling a giant burrowing worm, burst from the earth! Its body, covered in slime and hard scales, violently coiled around the Dreadnought! Even more terrifying, the pair of massive biological discharge organs on its head instantly erupted with dazzling blue-white electrical arcs!
Crackling!
Powerful bio-electricity instantly surged through the entire Dreadnought! The ancient hero within the machine let out a painful roar, its massive body instantly stiffened, weapon systems offline, and servo motors spewing black smoke! The Trygon seized the opportunity to coil tightly, attempting to crush this war machine!
"Cover the Dreadnought!" A heavy weapons specialist nearby, operating a heavy Bolter, saw this and unhesitatingly redirected his muzzle, unleashing a furious storm of hot metal onto the Trygon's head and the connection to its body!
The massive bullets tore through the Trygon's scales, and green blood splattered out! The pained Trygon slightly loosened its coils, and the Dreadnought seized the chance to exert force, breaking free from some of its restraints, but one mechanical arm was already severely deformed, its movement clearly impaired.
Although the immediate danger was averted, an important heavy fire point was now damaged. The balance of the battlefield was rapidly tilting towards the Tyranid.
Meanwhile, in the cold, silent outer space, the atmosphere in the strategic command room of the Macragge's Honour was equally tense.
On the huge astrogation table, the vast shadow representing the Leviathan Hive Fleet slowly covered the star map of the Cadia Gate sector. Countless dense points of light representing Tyranid bio-ships, their sheer number and immense scale, were enough to fill anyone who saw them with despair.
Roboute Guilliman stood before the astrogation table, his profound gaze sweeping rapidly over the constantly updating data streams like the most precise sensor. Chapter Master Marius Calgar and Captain Cassius, among others, stood solemnly to the side, their expressions grave.
"Detecting multiple high-energy biological signal sources... consistent with Hive Fleet Nodal Brain characteristics!" a sensor officer reported loudly, "They are attempting to unleash stronger psychic interference and accelerate the incubation rate of their bio-ships!"
"Main fleet coordinates locked! They are congregating near the 'Eye of the Void' region, a convergence point of Warp storms and real space, where energy is chaotic and precise strikes are extremely difficult!" the representative of the Navigators' Guild also warned.
Guilliman's fingers unconsciously tapped the edge of the astrogation table, his brain calculating at a speed far exceeding that of ordinary men. Leviathan's main force clearly intended to use that chaotic void as cover, while continuously applying pressure, wearing down the human defenses, and seeking a breakthrough.
"We can't wait any longer," Guilliman said slowly, his voice as calm as ten thousand years of ice. "We must take the offensive, disrupt their rhythm, and force their main force to engage me in an environment unfavorable to them."
His gaze fixed on the area of the star map marked as the "Fortress of Solitude" world cluster, especially the defensive platforms and mobile fleets at several key nodes within it.
"Relay the order!" Guilliman's voice suddenly became decisive and unyielding, filled with unquestionable resolve. "All mobile fleets, execute 'Codex Astartes' Seventh Contingency Plan, launch in staggered waves! The 'Fist of Iron' battle group will spearhead and cut into Leviathan's left flank! The 'Shield of Ultramar' battle group will engage the right flank! The main fleet will follow me directly into their center!"
"Order all defensive platforms to overload energy output and conduct saturation bombardment to create conditions for the fleet's assault!"
"Inform ground forces to hold their positions! Our attack will greatly alleviate their pressure! Tell them, the Primarch is with them!"
A series of commands flowed out seamlessly, and the entire command room instantly began to operate at high speed like a wound-up machine!
The vast Imperial fleet began to adjust its formation, like a colossal war machine, revealing its sharpest fangs! Countless lance batteries began to charge, macro-cannons loaded ammunition, torpedo tubes opened... Guilliman's gaze finally rested on the ravaged planet "Fortress IV" on the astrogation table, a flicker of imperceptible heaviness in his eyes.
He was aware of the bitter struggle on the ground. But he had to focus on the larger battlefield. Only by crushing Leviathan's main force could the ground crisis truly be resolved.
The decisive battle in the heavens was about to erupt. And on the ground, the blue giants still had to use their flesh and blood to desperately hold back the seemingly endless Tyranid swarm, awaiting the dawn of victory from the sky.
Dorian felt as if he had been hit head-on by a rampaging Thunder Beast; every bone in his body seemed on the verge of shattering.
The immense impact sent him spinning, followed by countless bricks and rubble raining down on him, and the heavy pressure instantly buried his massive Saturnine Terminator body.
Darkness, suffocation, and intense pain surged like a tide.
He tried to struggle, but his consciousness, as if trapped in quicksand, rapidly sank and eventually succumbed to complete unconsciousness.
Darkness, endless darkness.
But soon, this darkness was replaced by a nauseating, dark red glow.
Dorian found himself standing in a place that was incredibly familiar, yet instinctively filled him with extreme revulsion and discomfort—among the terrifying mountains formed by countless piled-up skulls!
Beneath his feet was a viscous, warm, bottomless river of blood, and the air was thick with an intense smell of rust and the insane screams of slaughter.
In the distance, on that incomparably majestic Brass Throne, constructed from twisted metal and solidified lava, the colossal figure radiating endless killing intent and fury, clad in grotesque black armor, once again appeared clearly before his eyes!
This time, the lava-hot gaze hidden beneath the terrifying horned helmet was no longer a vague observation, but was fixed intently on him, with an indescribable greed and... appreciation?
"Damn it... why is it this cursed place again..." Dorian shook his somewhat muddled head, "Don't these skulls make it creepy to look at... and what a hassle to clean..."
His simple, direct brain was utterly unable to comprehend the symbolic meaning of the place; he just felt incredibly annoyed.
His mind was entirely focused on the battle outside; his brothers, Gaius and Luna, were still fighting desperately against that damned Executioner!
That new old guy with the white helmet seemed to be in a bad situation too!
He had to get back quickly!
He tried to concentrate, to "wake up," but found himself seemingly trapped in this bizarre dream by some force.
Just then, the terrifying entity enthroned on the Brass Throne moved!
No movement was seen; it was as if he had always stood there!
That massive, grotesque figure, radiating an ultimate sense of oppression, instantly appeared before Dorian!
The distance between them was negligible!
Dorian could even clearly see the strange patterns on the black armor, seemingly coagulated from blood, and the substantial fury and desire for destruction spewing forth from the helmet's crevices, as if about to erupt!
Lord of Skulls! God of War! The Blood God—Khorne!
At this moment, his true form, or rather, a powerful projection, stood before Dorian!
His lava-like gaze scrutinized Dorian up and down, as if appreciating a perfect work of war art.
Dorian's pure, ultimate raw strength, his undisguised desire for battle, his reckless courage to sacrifice everything for his comrades, and even the laurel of honor placed on his head by Guilliman himself, stained with the blood of countless xenos... all of this filled Khorne with immense "pleasure."
This was precisely the soul he most desired, the most perfect champion in the making!
However, Dorian's thought process was clearly not like that of ordinary people.
Looking at this strange, terrifyingly armored, path-blocking behemoth that had suddenly appeared before him, his first reaction was not fear, but extreme impatience and annoyance!
"Who the hell are you?!" Dorian roared in the dream, his tone full of disdain, "You look weird! You're blocking my way, don't you know? Get out of the way! I don't have time to play with you! My brothers are waiting for me to save them outside!"
Seeing that the other party remained unresponsive, merely staring at him with that "inexplicable" gaze, his anger flared up instantly!
He was being beaten by Tyranids outside, and now he had to be harassed by this weird thing in his dream?
Thus, this brute performed an act that would have terrified any mortal aware of Khorne's existence—he raised his massive Power Fist, symbolizing the strength and glory of the Ultramarines, infused it with the power that seemed to still exist in the dream, and then fiercely punched the grotesque helmet of Khorne, which represented endless war and slaughter, right in front of him!
"Die!!!"
This punch contained all of Dorian's urgency, anger, and concern for his brothers, and even a hint of the absolute self-confidence in his own strength that had arisen after being awarded the laurel by the Primarch!
In Khorne's lava-like gaze, for the first time, a subtle hint of... bewilderment... seemed to flash.
Even He, perhaps, had never imagined that this mortal he had chosen, who should have felt his glory and knelt in submission, would not only not be afraid upon seeing him, but would dare to directly punch his divine body?!
This... what kind of... arrogance!
What kind of... fearlessness!
What kind of... perfectly aligned with his will!
Just as Dorian's punch, imbued with pure brute force, was about to strike Khorne's helmet—
Boom!!!
Intense pain and the clamor of reality suddenly doused Dorian like ice water, jolting him awake!
He abruptly opened his eyes, coughing violently, his mouth full of dust and blood foam.
The heavy pressure on his body told him that he was still buried under the rubble.
But that bizarre dream and the feeling of swinging a punch into empty air were unusually clear.
"Damn it... what a nightmare..." he mumbled, beginning to struggle fiercely, trying to push away the bricks and stones on him.
The sounds of battle outside grew more intense, interspersed with Luna's painful groans and Gaius's anxious shouts!
His heart jolted, and he pushed away the obstacles on him with even greater force!
When he finally managed to poke his head out of the rubble, the sight that greeted him made his eyes burn with rage!
The massive Executioner, with its relatively smaller yet still incredibly sharp scythe-like forelimb, had brutally pierced Luna's abdomen!
It had even impaled her and tossed her away forcefully!
Luna lay slumped in a pile of rubble in the distance, the wound in her abdomen horrifying, her Power Armor torn like paper.
She struggled to sit up, clutching her Bolter pistol tightly, futilely firing at the Executioner, trying to attract its attention and buy Gaius some time.
Her face was ashen, and every breath she took was accompanied by blood foam.
And Gaius's situation was equally dire!
His chest plate had been ripped open by the Executioner's main scythe, leaving a hideous gash from which blood continuously seeped, even revealing the composite armor and muscle tissue beneath!
He was barely holding his own with nimble footwork and the precise shots of his "Eagle Eye" sniper rifle, but he was clearly at his limit, constantly in perilous situations!
Further away, Draculas's white Terminator figure was entangled with several Carnifexes!
His flamer was completely ruined, and his Storm Bolter seemed to be out of ammunition, forcing him to rely solely on his Power Fist and battle-hardened skills to desperately endure, but his steps were already faltering, clearly approaching his limit as well!
As for Dorian himself, although he had woken up, the solid impact from the Executioner and the subsequent collapse had left him severely wounded, his internal organs aching as if displaced, making it extremely difficult even to stand up in his Terminator armor; every movement exacerbated his wounds.
Just at this desperate juncture, an even more suffocating scene unfolded!
On the edge of the battlefield, on the distant horizon, an enormous, terrifying shadow, comparable to an Imperial Titan, was slowly approaching with earth-shattering steps!
It was a moving, living mountain—a Bio-Titan!
One of the Tyranids' most supreme bio-constructs!
On its body, like a gigantic biological gun platform, countless malevolent eyes gleamed with cold light, and its massive bio-energy weapons were charging, radiating a despair-inducing pressure!
Its appearance signified that the Hive Mind had judged this area to be a core point of resistance that must be utterly crushed!
It's over... a cold wave of despair instantly gripped Dorian's heart.
Were they, First Squad, truly going to be annihilated here today?
However, at this critical moment!
"For Macragge! For the Primarch!"
Three thunderous battle cries erupted from not far away!
Three Ironclad Pattern Terminator warriors, who had originally been clearing Tyranid swarms on another street and had rushed over upon hearing the commotion, burst out from the flank like three blue heavy tanks!
They unhesitatingly unleashed all their Storm Bolter firepower onto the Executioner's side carapace and joints!
Although unable to immediately critically wound the giant beast, the powerful impact and sudden attack successfully drew the Executioner's attention!
The Executioner let out an enraged shriek, temporarily abandoning the dying Gaius and Luna, and swung its massive scythe-like forelimbs, turning to confront these three new challengers!
"Quick! Get them behind cover!" one of the Ironclad Terminators shouted towards Dorian, as he braced with his Storm Shield, deflecting a heavy blow from the Executioner with a deafening clang!
This timely assistance bought First Squad precious breathing room!
Dorian saw hope, roared, and erupted with astonishing willpower, forcing his shattered body to crawl completely out of the rubble!
He staggered, rushing step by step towards Luna, who was closest to him!
Meanwhile, Gaius seized the opportunity to escape the Executioner's attack range, dragging his injured body towards Draculas, attempting to rendezvous with him.
In this desperate situation, the faint spark of hope ignited once more.
But facing the powerful Executioner and the approaching Bio-Titan, how long could these three Ironclad Pattern Terminators, their reinforcements, hold out?
How much time could their sacrifice buy for the fleet?
The appearance of the three Ironclad Pattern Terminator warriors was like three massive, solid stakes suddenly driven into three dikes on the verge of collapse!
Their immense bodies, heavy armor, and powerful firepower instantly formed a sturdy triangular defensive formation, firmly pinning the rampaging Executioner in place!
The roar of the Storm Bolter never ceased, and a scorching storm of metal continuously pounded the Executioner's thick bio-carapace.
Though it was difficult to instantly breach its defenses, the immense impact force and the continuous accumulation of damage still made the giant beast let out angry and painful screeches!
Its massive scythe-like forelimbs wildly swung and slashed, each collision with a Storm Shield erupting with deafening roars and dazzling sparks!
One Ironclad Pattern warrior's shield, after enduring several heavy blows, emitted a teeth-grinding screech of distortion, its surface even showing dents, but he still held his ground firmly, refusing to yield an inch!
Another warrior constantly moved, looking for opportunities to shoot Bolter rounds at the Executioner's relatively vulnerable joints and compound eyes!
Their tactics were clear and resolute—to hold back this greatest threat at all costs, buying time for their comrades to retreat and catch their breath!
This precious moment of respite!
Dorian erupted with astonishing tenacity, ignoring the tearing pain throughout his body, and staggered to Luna's side.
He looked at Luna's horrific abdominal wound and pale face, his heart burning with anxiety.
"Luna! Hold on!" he growled, his massive Power Fist carefully helping her up, while his other hand, still capable of moving his Storm Bolter, tried to guard their surroundings.
He knew he had to immediately move her to a safer place for emergency treatment.
Gaius also seized the opportunity to leave the dangerous area; blood flowed incessantly from his chest wound, but he still gritted his teeth, sniping at the scattered Ripper trying to approach from a distance, while moving towards Draculas, attempting to rendezvous with the veteran who was also caught in a bitter struggle.
Just as Dorian was half-supporting, half-carrying Luna, preparing to retreat behind a relatively intact building ruin, his instinctive sense of danger, honed through countless life-and-death struggles, suddenly blared a sharp warning!
In the shadow to the left, the air seemed to subtly twist!
The next second, an almost completely transparent outline appeared out of thin air like a ghost!
A Lictor!
This cunning Tyranid assassin had been lurking in the shadows, waiting for the optimal hunting moment!
And now, the severely wounded Luna was undoubtedly the most tempting target!
Its scythe-like forelimbs, glowing with an eerie green bio-luminescence, cut through the air with a shriek, aiming directly for Luna's unprotected nape!
The speed was extreme!
The malice was extreme!
"Damn it!" Dorian's pupils contracted sharply; he had no time to raise his gun or dodge!
In the nick of time, purely by combat instinct, he suddenly raised his massive Power Fist on his left arm!
Clang—!!!!
A deafening metallic crash exploded!
The Lictor's deadly strike fiercely slammed into the side armor of Dorian's Power Fist!
The immense impact force numbed Dorian's entire arm, and the outside of the Power Fist was even deeply dented and scorched by the sharp bone blade!
The Lictor, having missed its strike, let out a sharp, disappointed hiss, its body quickly becoming transparent and blurry again, leaping backward, instantly vanishing without a trace, re-merging into the shadows of the surrounding ruins.
It was like the most patient venomous snake; if a strike failed, it would immediately conceal itself, waiting for the next opportunity.
Dorian broke out in a cold sweat, his heart pounding.
He stared intently in the direction where the Lictor had disappeared, not daring to be careless in the slightest.
This elusive assassin was even more troublesome than a giant beast charging head-on!
"Damn it... treacherous bastard..." he cursed, guarding Luna even more carefully, and quickened his retreat.
However, misfortunes never come singly!
Just as the three Ironclad Pattern warriors were desperately holding off the Executioner, Dorian was trying to retreat, and Gaius was trying to rendezvous with Draculas, the Trygon that had previously been repelled by the heavy weapons specialist launched another attack from underground!
But this time, its target was no longer the damaged Dreadnought, but Draculas, who was entangled with a Carnifex, and... the three crucial Ironclad Pattern warriors!
Rumble!
The ground violently heaved and cracked again!
The Trygon's massive body, covered in mucus and hard scales, burst out of the earth from the side and rear of the three Ironclad Pattern warriors' formation, like a monstrous creature emerging from hell!
Its hideous head aimed at the closest Ironclad Pattern warrior, and its massive bio-electric discharge organ instantly unleashed a blue-white arc of electricity even more dazzling than before!
Crackling—!!!!
This time, its aim was even more precise!
Powerful bio-electricity, like twisting lightning serpents, instantly traversed space, not directly attacking the warrior himself, but engulfing a large area around the Ironclad Pattern warrior!
The leaping arcs of electricity even affected another warrior nearby!
Sparks erupted from the power armor of the two Ironclad Pattern warriors!
The servo-systems emitted a screeching whine and the smell of overloaded burning!
Their movements suddenly froze, as if bound by invisible chains, and their massive Terminator bodies trembled violently, almost unable to move!
Although the internal insulation and energy buffers of the armor were desperately resisting, this sudden powerful current still caused them severe interference and damage!
And the Trygon's true killing blow followed immediately!
Its incredibly thick tail swung with immense force, fiercely sweeping towards the two Ironclad Pattern warriors who were temporarily controlled by the bio-electricity!
At the same time, it opened its fanged maw, biting at the third Ironclad Pattern warrior who was trying to rescue his comrades!
This sudden rear-flank attack instantly shattered the barely maintained balance!
"Careful!" the third Ironclad Pattern warrior roared, trying to block the Trygon's bite with his Storm Shield, but was repeatedly pushed back by the immense force!
The two warriors trapped by the electricity were about to be struck by the Trygon's massive tail!
Once hit, even with the Terminator's defensive capabilities, it would undoubtedly mean death or severe injury!
Just at this critical moment!
Hum—!!!!
A familiar and reassuring sound of heavy footsteps and engine roar came from the other end of the street!
It was the Dreadnought — "Ancient Glory" — that had been severely damaged by the Trygon's earlier ambush!
The ancient hero inside seemed to have forcibly suppressed some of the damage and re-entered the fight!
Although one mechanical arm was twisted and deformed, the assault cannon on its other arm still let out an angry roar!
Scorching shells, like precise surgical blades, violently pounded the base of the Trygon's sweeping tail!
Splish! Splish! Splish!
Huge armor-piercing warheads instantly tore through the Trygon's scales and muscle, and green blood and shredded flesh splattered out like a waterfall!
The Trygon let out a painful, sharp shriek, and the movement of its tail sweeping towards the Ironclad Pattern warriors suddenly paused, its strength greatly diminished!
Seizing this opportunity, the two Ironclad Pattern warriors, plagued by the electricity, finally broke free from its shackles through sheer willpower and the emergency recovery of their armor systems!
They roared as they retreated, simultaneously raising their Storm Bolters and firing wildly at the Trygon's injured tail!
The timely intervention of the Dreadnought once again averted a deadly crisis!
But the battlefield situation remained grim.
The Executioner, though temporarily held back, was still ferocious.
The Trygon, though injured, was still lethal.
A deadly assassin like the Lictor still lurked in the shadows.
And in the distance, the mountain-like Bio-Titan was steadily approaching, its massive bio-cannons already beginning to flash with dangerous light, seemingly charging for a devastating volley!
First Squad and the arriving reinforcements were still deeply surrounded, every second brushing with death.
They desperately needed stronger support, or... a miracle.
And the fleet battle in the skies above seemed too far away to help the immediate crisis.
The ground battle, after an extremely heavy toll, finally came to a temporary halt.
The battered Dreadnought, 'Ancient Glory,' used its last operational assault cannon to accurately pump large-caliber Bolter rounds into the Trygon's heavily wounded head, definitively ending the life of the subterranean beast.
After delivering this final blow, its severely damaged body could no longer hold up; its engine emitted a final, unwilling wail and ceased functioning completely, standing like a blue monument amidst mountains of Tyranid corpses.
Fortunately, the ancient hero within the cockpit, though shaken, maintained stable vital signs and required urgent subsequent repairs.
The headless corpse of the Executioner had long since fallen into a pool of blood, its head having been shattered by the concentrated fire of the Dreadnought and the Iron Cavalry warriors earlier.
With these two greatest threats eliminated, and the subsequent arrival of support from other Third Company squads, the Tyranid creatures in this area were gradually cleared out.
The warriors began to seize the time to rescue the wounded and consolidate their defenses.
However, the cost of victory was immense.
Almost every squad that had dropped suffered casualties.
Familiar blue figures lay forever on this land stained green by xeno blood.
Sadness and anger spread among the living warriors, but they had no time to mourn.
Even Lieutenant Golden, while commanding the battle, was ambushed by the elusive Lictor, sustaining a bone-deep gash on his arm, with corrosive green venom rapidly spreading.
Fortunately, the nearby Apothecary reacted swiftly, immediately performing debridement and injecting antitoxin serum, saving his arm, though it would be unusable for a short period.
"I'm fine!" Lieutenant Golden pushed away the warrior who tried to help him, raising his Bolter with his usable right hand, his voice hoarse but firm, "Prioritize rescuing the seriously wounded! Lightly wounded handle your own injuries! Quickly!"
Luna was carefully lifted onto the hastily arrived medical transport craft.
Her abdominal wound had received initial treatment but remained critical, requiring immediate return to the Cleansing Blade for surgery.
Many other severely wounded and incapacitated warriors boarded the craft with her.
Watching the transport craft ascend and depart, Gaius, Dorian, and Draculas, among others, breathed a slight sigh of relief, but their mood remained heavy.
All three of them also bore wounds: Gaius's chest wound, temporarily treated, still throbbed; Dorian's internal injuries were significant, causing intense pain with any major movement; Draculas's left leg was pierced by a Carnifex's forelimb, which broke off in his thigh, with green and red fluids continuously oozing out.
But they did not rest.
After a quick injection of stimulants and painkillers, they re-armed themselves and, together with the other able-bodied warriors, under the leadership of Lieutenant Golden, rapidly headed towards the Eighth Company's defensive line on the city outskirts.
The sounds of battle there were even more intense, with continuous explosions.
According to communications, the Eighth Company and the remaining Planetary Defense Forces and Cadian Regiment were under far greater pressure than they were!
The main force of the swarm seemed to be concentrating its attack on the outer defenses, attempting to completely engulf the planet.
Even Captain Sibilus was personally fighting on the front lines, reaping xeno lives with his power sword and Bolter pistol.
While the ground forces fought a bloody battle for every inch of land, the decisive battle in the skies also entered a fever pitch.
The Macragge's Honour, like an emperor presiding over the battlefield, led the massive fleet of Ultramarines strike cruisers and Imperial Navy, engaging in fierce combat with the boundless ocean of Tyranid Hive Fleet Leviathan bio-ships.
Lance beams tore through the void, macro-cannon shells rained down into the swarm, and explosions continuously erupted on the massive, writhing bodies of the Tyranid bio-ships, tearing and pulverizing them.
Countless smaller Imperial warships and fighters, like schools of fish around a giant whale, entangled and fought with Tyranid claw ships and space organisms, the battle ferociously brutal.
However, the cold, collective intelligence of the Leviathan Hive Mind quickly identified the core and soul of this human fleet—the largest, most heavily armed, and battle-commanding Macragge's Honour!
Thus, a targeted, extremely lethal strike began!
Tens of thousands of gigantic spore cysts erupted violently from the volcano-like ejection vents of the main Leviathan bio-ships!
They ignored the surrounding Imperial strike cruisers that were frantically unleashing firepower, and, as if guided by some unseen will, traced bizarre trajectories, charging directly and overwhelmingly towards the Macragge's Honour!
"Detecting large numbers of high-speed spore cysts! Target confirmed! It's our ship!" The sensor officer's voice carried a hint of urgency.
"All point-defense systems! Full fire! Intercept them!" The bridge commander roared.
Instantly, countless laser cannon arrays and point-defense gun batteries on the Macragge's Honour's hull bristled like a hedgehog, spewing out a dense barrage of projectiles and scorching beams!
In the void, countless brilliant and deadly fireworks erupted.
Many spore cysts were detonated in mid-air before they could get close, and the not-yet-fully-formed Tyranid war beasts inside were scattered like dumplings into the cold cosmos, freezing to death instantly.
However, the sheer number of spore cysts was overwhelming!
And they were extremely resilient; even when hit, they sometimes wouldn't explode immediately, but would continue to impact purely by inertia!
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Sounds like hail striking glass began to ring out densely!
That was the sound of spore cysts impacting the Macragge's Honour's powerful void shields!
The void shield energy readings began to drop rapidly at a visible rate!
"Void shield energy down to seventy percent!"
"Sixty percent!"
"Fifty percent!"
What was worse, the Tyranid bio-ships that were previously engaging other Imperial warships seemed to simultaneously receive some command; they began to disregard their own damage, forcefully adjusted their direction, and concentrated all their primary bio-weaponry—those gigantic bio-acid cannons, bone-spine launchers, and bio-plasma orbs—on the Macragge's Honour!
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Huge bio-acid globs slammed into the void shields, erupting in corrosive green smoke; dense bone projectiles hammered the energy barrier like a downpour; and powerful bio-plasma orbs caused the void shields to flicker violently, accelerating energy consumption!
"Void shield energy down to thirty percent! Overload imminent!"
"All escort ships report! All are experiencing spore cyst boarding! Internal boarding actions are breaking out! Unable to provide support!"
Bad news followed one after another.
All escort ships responsible for covering the Macragge's Honour's flanks had been breached by large numbers of spore cysts, and fierce close-quarters combat was erupting within their hulls, leaving them unable to help themselves.
The magnificent battleship Macragge's Honour now seemed like a solitary reef in a tempest, enduring frantic impacts from all directions!
On the bridge, the atmosphere was extremely tense.
Officers shouted commands, Tech-Priests desperately tried to stabilize energy output, but the void shields' overload seemed inevitable.
Roboute Guilliman still stood before the observation window, his face as calm as water, as if the world-shattering attacks outside had nothing to do with him.
But in his deep eyes, an extremely sharp and solemn light flickered.
He watched the Tyranid fleet, advancing relentlessly, with clear objectives, even understanding how to concentrate fire and coordinate tactics, and slowly, with an unprecedented solemnity, he murmured:
"...They are by no means uncultured, low-level beasts... Behind this cold, collective will is... a completely different yet equally terrifying intelligence..."
His words were soft, yet they made Chapter Master Marius Calgar, standing beside him, feel a chill in his heart.
For the Primarch to give such an assessment, it showed that the threat of the Hive Mind far surpassed any previous enemy.
"Void shields are about to overload! All non-combat personnel, evacuate immediately to the core areas! Honour Guard! Shipboard defense forces! Prepare for engagement!" The Chapter Master's command rang out across the ship's broadcast, filled with grim determination.
Heavy blast doors began to slowly descend, protecting critical areas like the bridge and engine room.
Non-combat clerks, tech-servitors, and others were rapidly evacuated.
And in the corridors and halls leading to the core areas, the gold-armored Honour Guard and loyal shipborne mortal soldiers had formed layer upon layer of steel defenses, Bolters loaded, chainswords roaring, their cold visors staring at every possible breach point.
They all knew that once the void shields overloaded, countless spore cysts and Tyranid war beasts would directly impact the hull, or even breach the armor, flooding into the battleship's interior.
At that point, it would be an internal ship-to-ship bloodbath, far more brutal and chaotic than the ground battle!
The Macragge's Honour, the flagship carrying the hopes of the Primarch and the Ultramarines, had fallen into an unprecedented crisis. The outcome of the battle in the skies, and even the direction of the entire Cadia Gate campaign, depended on whether this colossal vessel could withstand this wave of concentrated, frantic attacks.
Guilliman's gaze remained fixed on the endless tide of Tyranids outside the window, and his hand slowly gripped the hilt of the Sword of the Emperor at his waist.
No matter what desperate situation he faced, he, Roboute Guilliman, would fight to the bitter end.
Like a fragile soap bubble finally unable to bear the immense pressure, the Macragge's Honour's massive void shields, under the continuous onslaught of countless spore cysts and bio-weapon fire, let out a mournful wail, and the energy field instantly collapsed and dissipated!
Stripped of their last defense, the huge spore cysts, arriving like meteors, slammed unimpeded and violently into the magnificent hull of the battleship!
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
Dense and heavy impacts echoed like the drumbeats of death, pounding in the heart of every crew member! The tough shells of the spore cysts either shattered directly against the heavy armor plating, leaving behind disgusting green slime and cracks, or more often, successfully embedded themselves in relatively weaker areas, such as near gun turret arrays, around observation windows, and even at the entrance to the hangar!
The next second, these spore cysts embedded in the hull burst open like ripe, bloody fruit!
The first to swarm out were countless screaming Ripper, Blade, and Termagants! They surged like a black tide bursting through a dam, frantically pouring into the battleship's interior along corridors, passages, and maintenance ducts!
"For the Emperor! Fire!"
The Honour Guard and internal defense forces, already arrayed for battle, immediately roared! The screech of Bolters, the roar of heavy Bolters, and the scorching beams of lasguns instantly wove into a net of death, spraying towards the charging tide of Tyranids!
The Tyranid beasts at the forefront fell in swathes like harvested wheat, dismembered limbs and green blood splattering everywhere, staining the once pristine metal corridors into a foul killing ground. The mortal soldiers, relying on makeshift cover, desperately fired their weapons, and despite their fear, none retreated.
However, the cold collective will of the Leviathan almost immediately assessed the inefficiency of this attrition tactic. These low-tier beasts were simply unable to break through the tight defenses composed of Astartes and elite mortals.
Thus, the strategy instantly changed!
From the subsequent spore cysts that impacted and burst open, no longer poured out cannon fodder! Instead, the true elite and heavy units of the Tyranids emerged!
Lictors, appearing like phantoms, launching deadly ambushes from the shadows; Carnifexes, darting like lightning from ventilation shafts and ceiling breaches; Trygons, forcibly smashing through bulkheads with their massive bodies and spewing toxic mist; and even Executioners and Tyrant Guards, like small fortresses, brandishing huge scythe-like forelimbs! Furthermore, a Trygon burrowed directly through a breached large maintenance access point, its massive body almost completely blocking the entire passage!
The inclusion of these elite beasts instantly multiplied the pressure on the defense forces exponentially!
The Honour Guard's storm Bolters struggled to instantly kill the thick carapaces of the Tyrant Guards; the mortal soldiers' lasguns posed almost no threat to the Executioners; and the agility of the Lictors and Carnifexes made them difficult to target, often causing casualties before quickly disappearing again!
The defensive line began to waver, and casualties rapidly increased! An Honour Guard warrior's leg was severed by a Carnifex's claws, and he was instantly overwhelmed by swarming Ripper upon falling; a team of mortal soldiers' cover was completely torn away by an Executioner's scythe-like forelimbs, and the soldiers screamed as they were ripped apart... Just at this critical moment—
A golden figure, like lightning, cut into the battlefield!
It was the Victrix Guard!
As Primarch Roboute Guilliman's most trusted and elite personal guard, their combat prowess far exceeded that of ordinary Astartes, even surpassing the Chapter Master's Honour Guard!
A Victrix Guard warrior, wielding a power sword, moved with extreme speed! He appeared like a phantom beside a Carnifex that was slaughtering mortal soldiers, and his power sword traced a graceful blue arc!
Swish!
The Carnifex's grotesque head instantly separated from its body, and its massive form, carried by inertia, charged a few more steps before crashing to the ground!
Almost simultaneously, a Trygon lunged at him from the side, attempting to bite him! The Victrix Guard warrior didn't even turn his head, merely shifting his body slightly based on his extraordinary senses, and the massive, fanged maw grazed his shoulder guard! At the same time, he parried with a backhand swing, blocking the phosphorescent bone claw of a Lictor reaching out from the shadows behind him!
Clang!
Sparks flew!
The next second, he exerted force, his body spinning like a whirlwind, and his power sword, leveraging the rotational momentum, executed a perfect circular slash!
Swish! Swish!
After two soft sounds, the lunging Trygon and the ambushing Lictor were simultaneously cut in half at the waist! Green entrails and blood splattered everywhere!
All of this happened in a flash, fluid and seamless, like a deadly art performance!
And this was merely the performance of an ordinary Victrix Guard warrior!
The Victrix Guard Captain's fighting style was even more awe-inspiring! The master-crafted power sword in his hand, personally bestowed by Guilliman, shone with an energy field far more brilliant than that of ordinary power weapons!
He charged into the densest area of the Tyranids like a golden harbinger of death! Any elite Tyranid beast that dared to block his path—whether agile Carnifexes, cunning Lictors, or heavily armored Tyrant Guards—were easily cut down by his precise and ferocious swordsmanship! Wherever his power sword passed, carapaces shattered, limbs flew, and no foe could withstand a single blow!
His gaze locked onto the front—an Executioner was frantically slaughtering a team of mortal soldiers with its scythe-like forelimbs, their screams echoing incessantly!
The Victrix Guard Captain transformed into a golden streak of light and charged straight ahead!
The Executioner immediately sensed this extremely dangerous target, and its three pairs of massive, scythe-like forelimbs, shimmering with a disintegration field, instantly abandoned the mortals before it, stabbing at the Captain from different angles like a furious storm!
Facing this terrifying attack, capable of tearing even a Terminator apart, the Victrix Guard Captain showed no hesitation! He didn't even slow down! Just as he was about to be struck, his wrist gave a sharp flick, and the master-crafted power sword traced a Z-shaped trajectory too fast for the eye to follow!
Crack! Crack! Crack! ... A series of crisp snapping sounds rang out! All of the Executioner's lunging scythe-like forelimbs were instantly severed! Green fluid gushed from the broken ends!
The Executioner let out an agonizing, disbelieving shriek!
And the Captain's next sword strike followed immediately! The master-crafted power sword, with an unstoppable momentum, easily breached the Executioner's heavy chest armor, carving a massive, terrifying wound on its colossal body that almost split it diagonally in two!
The Executioner's shriek abruptly ceased, its massive body swayed, and then it crashed heavily to the ground, splattering blood everywhere!
The arrival of the Victrix Guard was like a powerful shot in the arm during the darkest hour! Their unimaginably potent combat prowess greatly alleviated the pressure on the internal defenses, temporarily stabilizing the teetering defensive line.
However, everyone knew this was merely a temporary measure. As long as the Leviathan's capital ships continued to spew spore cysts, and as long as the Hive Mind's attention remained focused here, the battle within the Macragge's Honour would be endless, and its fall would only be a matter of time.
The true solution lay externally!
It lay in destroying the source of it all!
While the Macragge's Honour fought tooth and nail, on another side of the battlefield, Captain Cassius, the seasoned veteran, had seized the opportunity presented by the Hive Mind's primary attention being focused on the flagship!
He personally led the First Company's most elite veterans aboard dozens of specially modified Thunderhawk gunships, equipped with heavy flamers and assault drills. Like arrows shot from a bow, they broke away from the main fleet's engagement zone, launching a nearly suicidal charge directly towards the Leviathan's massive, planet-sized, most terrifying Hive Ship!
Their objective was clear and insane—to ignore the countless escort bio-ships around them and strike directly at the heart! To unleash the Imperium's fiercest firepower directly onto the core of this accursed xenos vessel! To buy the Primarch and the flagship a moment to breathe!
The decisive battle in the skies had entered its most brutal and critical phase! Warriors both within and without were engaged in the most arduous struggle for survival and victory!