"Working together is just an excuse; your real game is challenging me, isn't it?"
"But I'll give you this opportunity, just this once—no contribution points charged."
"If we win, I'll even throw you some contribution points."
Titus looked at Warmaster and saw right through his little scheme.
But he didn't refuse. The challenge took him back to his time serving in the Ultramarines Chapter—over a century ago.
Looking back on that time, he also enjoyed challenging veterans and honing his skills.
Warmaster grinned; this was exactly what he'd been hoping for.
A short while later, a quest appeared in Warmaster's task list.
[Quest: Challenge (Accepted by the Saint, "Warmaster ")]
Titus is about to board your ship and has issued a challenge. Defeat him to receive a generous reward. Go find him and accept the quest!
Reward: 50,000 contribution points and 400 honor points.
Warmaster stared at Titus, his eyes wide.
He hadn't expected the other party to directly issue him a challenge quest.
Is this what happens when the affection level is maxed out?
"Don't look so shocked. You'll actually have to beat me to get the reward."
Titus smiled and extended his fist.
Warmaster paused for a moment, then reached out his fist to bump it.
They both broke into laughter.
It was a moment of genuine sincerity and tacit understanding between the two warriors.
Warmaster accepted the challenge.
Honestly, Titus's behavior didn't resemble an NPC created by data algorithms at all; he was like a living, breathing person.
He had his own joys and sorrows.
Sometimes, Warmaster thought how incredible it would be if Titus were truly a real person.
They would definitely be great brothers.
The void artillery platform, suspended in mid-air, was a scene of absolute frenzy.
A torrent of artillery fire rained down on the void like a ferocious storm.
Countless shells, missiles, energy lances, laser pulses, and other projectiles streaked across the void.
Explosion flashes momentarily lit up the dark theatre of war.
The Imperial Glory advanced despite the intense enemy fire.
Surrounded by a violet Void Shield,
Enemy fire hammered the shield, sending ripples across its surface.
Like a noble sovereign, it led numerous warships forward.
Following it were large battleships and battlecruisers armed with Nova Cannons.
They fired in perfect unison, each launching a Nova Shell with a diameter greater than fifty meters.
These projectiles were even longer than some small fighter jets.
These shells were accelerated to near light-speed in an instant, each one packing enough punch to effortlessly shatter the shields of small and medium-sized warships and destroy them completely.
The Nova Cannon uses an array of gravity accelerators to launch projectiles at relativistic speeds, often accelerating them to near the speed of light.
The shells slammed into several artillery platforms and void stations, completely shredding their shields and tearing apart their armor.
Following up, gravity weapons and salvoes of torpedoes struck the defense line, setting off a chain of explosions.
"Focus fire on area Y-145. Punch through that shield."
Rigby calmly watched the battlefield projection.
Occasionally, the marker for a friendly warship would flicker and disappear from the projection.
Signaling the immediate destruction of the vessel.
Tens of thousands of Imperial loyalists were either ejected into the void or consumed by the ship's catastrophic explosion.
A small number might be saved, but the vast majority would return to the Throne.
In a war of this scale, lives lost become cold, hard statistics.
War is a scale, with both sides constantly placing bets. Sacrifice is merely one of the chips.
No one shirked their duty; the moment they boarded the ship, they were prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice.
But the sacrifice was not in vain.
Every sacrificed warship brought the Imperial fleet closer to the enemy lines.
The fleet, leveraging sacrifice and ferocious firepower, tore through the enemy's thin defenses and cracked open their Void Shields.
What followed was a frantic boarding operation.
Countless Thunderhawks, Stormbirds, boarding torpedoes, and Raptors were launched.
They slammed into enemy fortresses and strongholds, carrying their deadly cargo.
The galaxy had long forgotten the terror of large-scale Astartes operations.
Today, the traitors of the Rath Forgeworld would experience the despair and fear that defined the Great Crusade.
Warmaster and Titus rode in a Stormhawk, screaming across the Void Fortress's flight deck and whistling as they flew toward the landing pad.
A shield shimmered around the Stormhawk, forming a dome that deflected all incoming traitor fire.
Simultaneously, the pilot unleashed the raging fury accumulated within the machine spirit.
Dense barrages of explosives and energy beams raked the landing deck.
Hundreds of traitors were instantly shredded, and several multi-barreled gun emplacements near the landing pad were destroyed.
The sealed ramp dropped, and Warmaster and the other warriors, including Titus, leaped out, opening fire on the distant enemy.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Boltgun shells roared, muzzle flashes spitting from the barrels.
The explosive rounds slammed into the enemy, instantly pulverizing their bodies.
A furious killing intent enveloped the warriors; their only instinct was to kill.
Many slaves and Mechanicus overseers were on the tarmac, inspecting and repairing fighter craft and gunships, refueling and re-arming them.
Warmaster and Titus, among others, opened fire without mercy.
With the roar of the explosive rounds, shredded corpses and severed limbs flew everywhere.
The slaves screamed and scattered.
The Mechanicus overseers brandished whips and pistols, attempting to halt the fleeing slaves.
+++Execute commands, do not allow crashes or rollbacks+++
+++Execute commands, do not allow crashes or rollbacks+++
A red-robed Mechanicus overseer, repeating mechanical commands, lashed out with a whip, striking the slaves.
They even shot and killed the escaping slaves, effectively using them as bullet sponges to deplete the ammunition of Warmaster and his men.
"Go to hell."
Warmaster raised his boltgun, aimed it at the overseer's head, and pulled the trigger.
Bang! The explosive round detonated upon impact with the opponent's head.
The mangled body crumpled to the ground, broken cables spitting sparks and crackling.
Guardsmen armed with lasguns jogged out of a nearby corridor.
Their bodies were encased in brass and gray metal.
Their eyes gleamed with mechanical light.
+++Confirm target, execute purification protocol+++
The mechanical voice emanated from the loudspeaker of the leading Heretic Guard.
But the Astartes, like Warmaster and Titus, reacted faster.
While the Traitor Guard soldiers were optimizing their tactics and assigning targets, the Astartes had already charged the front lines.
The forces of the Rath Forgeworld had undergone extensive modifications; their limited organic forms were protected by layers of inner and outer armor, making them virtually impervious to small arms fire.
However, in close combat, these soldiers were still no match for the superbly trained Astartes.
A warrior wielded his roaring Chainsword, while his opponent raised his lasgun in response.
The roaring Chainsword whistled down, cleaving the lasgun's barrel and tearing open the opponent's head.
A mixture of biological matter and shrapnel splattered onto the ground.
The slaughter by Titus and Warmaster proceeded far faster than expected.
Their Chainswords sliced through the metal limbs as easily as if they were carving meat.
"They might have bodies of steel, but they're utterly useless."
Celtic of the Kill Squad spoke cheerfully.
"These are just soulless puppets, controlled by the architect behind the scenes," Beren said.
"You talk too much," Titus replied over the comms. "Silence speeds up the killing. Step up your game, or the Saint will leave you in the dust."
"Boss, do you doubt us?" Beren asked innocently. "The Saint is a quick study, but he's no match for us—not yet."
"Arrogance precedes a fall," Titus replied. "Focus on the killing, Beren."
"Copy that," Beren replied.
Their team was devastatingly fast.
Just moments later,
The entire squad of Traitor defenders who came to reinforce them was wiped out.
After clearing the enemy from the flight deck,
They advanced to other areas, targeting enemy fire-control platforms, launch arrays, and key infrastructure.
The same was true for the other Astartes squads that had boarded.
They stormed into the complex, sprawling void fortresses, engaging in bloody and brutal combat with the defenders.
Enemies poured out from every direction, intending to halt the Imperial advance.
But they stood no chance.
The sheer presence of the Astartes was like a spear of divine wrath.
They simply and brutally smashed through all the traitor defenses.
With the detonation of a Meltabomb, the heavy steel blast door was reduced to rubble.
Warmaster and his men, including Titus, stormed into the massive fortress.
They charged at the slave laborers and Mechanicus servants like harbingers of death.
After a few final shots with his boltgun, Warmaster charged the remaining enemy with his two-handed Greatsword.
A Mechanicus Priest arrived with heavily-armed soldiers to reinforce the fortress.
Their bravery in defying the Angels of the Emperor was commendable, but the outcome was never in doubt.
Titus charged into the thick of them, hacking down several soldiers with his Chainsword before decapitating the Priest with a single, clean stroke.
Other players and members of the Kill Squad opened fire on the remaining soldiers.
The entire emplacement became a killing field; the enemy fell screaming, and the few survivors fled.
"Disable the control console to prevent a restart."
Under the commander's order, several players blasted the control panel, utterly destroying it.
They also destroyed key servo-arms and disrupted the ammunition supply chain, ensuring the traitors couldn't use the emplacement for the foreseeable future.
They then departed to continue their mission.
Following the Astartes' surprise assault,
The intense void fire gradually subsided, allowing the Imperial fleet to deploy more troops to seize key platforms and fortresses.
Transport ships landed on the open decks, and fully armed Imperial Guard troops swarmed out.
They wore Powered Exoskeletons and carried Gauss Rifles or Meltaguns.
Drones hovered around them like a swarm of bees, some clearly designed for single-use suicide attacks.
"This battle is being fought way too extravagantly!"
After Pierce locked onto the enemy's twin-linked Lascannon position,
He then issued the order for a suicide attack by the drones.
A sharp, high-pitched whistle rang out.
A drone carrying a self-destruct explosive charge hurtled toward its target.
BOOM! Terrifying flames swept out, instantly engulfing everything.
"Sweet!"
Pierce shouted excitedly as he watched the enemy's heavy artillery emplacement vaporized.
Harry, standing beside him, was equally ecstatic.
What a rough life we used to lead!
Wearing Flak armor and wielding a Lasgun, they were ready to fight demons and monsters to the death.
Today, they wear powered exoskeletons, wield Gauss Guns, and are accompanied by combat drones.
Following those damned Imperial bureaucrats, we went hungry more often than not.
If you follow the Saints, you'll eat like kings.
"Charge! Charge!"
"Quickly, seize the key artillery positions! For the Emperor and the Saint!" a soldier shouted.
The well-equipped squad advanced through the tunnel network, engaging enemies along the way.
The traitors, shattered by the Astartes assault forces, were utterly incapable of mounting a counterattack.
Any soldier who resisted was instantly killed.
The only option left was surrender.
They were ordered to place their hands behind their heads and squat against the wall.
After a brief inspection confirmed they posed no threat, they were handed over to follow-up troops.
Soon, the void stations and fortresses were completely secured by subsequent Imperial Guard forces.
The Aquila banner of the Imperium once again flew within these magnificent void structures.
"Why hasn't our turn come yet?"
"When the heck is this void war going to end?! Seriously!"
"I want to get into the fight! I want to go on a killing spree!"
The chubby guy, sitting idly on the transport barge, scrolled through the chat messages in the player comms channel.
Seeing the real-time rankings on war leaderboard made him really itchy to join.
"Why don't we just strap on exoskeletons and get into the battle ourselves!"
"That's what Pigtails said."
Rigby was seriously tempted.
It was undeniably an attractive suggestion, but he still shook his head.
"Forget it, we'll just keep holding the line as the guide ordered. We still get war points this way, just not as many as them."
The Astartes forces deployed on this expedition numbered over six thousand.
That kind of scale is simply outrageous.
"Even if we went in wearing exoskeletons, we wouldn't earn any war points."
"It's better to stay put and wait for the ground war to start."
September 9th nodded. "+1, I agree with the Guild Leader. We need to conserve our energy, because once the Void War is over, the ground will be our home turf."
"You have to understand that this time we're fighting a Forgeworld, which means facing a Traitor Titan Legion and Renegade Knight Houses."
"These are the really tough nuts to crack, and only we can crack 'em."
"Hopefully the enemy shows up, otherwise we can kiss MVP goodbye this time." The girl with the ponytail sighed.
"I suggest you forget about MVP. Who knows what kind of sudden twist could completely flip the scoreboard?!"
September 9th recalled the Battle of Syntila.
When the Witcher Guild somehow snagged first place, they were so mad they almost spat blood.
That kind of thing is just soul-crushing.
Just thinking about it makes me speechless.
The orbital defense line had been breached, and the Imperial fleet surged forward, engaging the enemy fleet in fierce close-quarters combat.
Leveraging its overwhelming firepower and the shock boarding tactics of the Astartes, the Imperial fleet advanced relentlessly, inflicting a devastating series of defeats on the enemy.
The Imperial Glory continued to demonstrate its formidable power, ruthlessly slaughtering enemy vessels.
At the same time, Urs Collin, stationed on his flagship, watched with bloodshot eyes, his pupils like shattered glass.
Staring wide-eyed into the void, he felt his heart being ripped out, each loss a bloody wound.
This was his fleet, his greatest achievement.
In its service, he had swept aside all the die-hard Loyalists who refused to bend the knee to the Collin Dynasty.
The Imperial fleet, having ravaged the Calixis Sector, had swept across the region like a hurricane.
He had become a genius naval commander, admired and feared by all, thanks entirely to this fleet.
Now, however, it was being brutally slaughtered by the enemy and was facing total annihilation.
"I'll kill them all, I'll kill them!" Urs roared in a fury.
Nearby operators grew tense and uneasy under the commander's rage, barely daring to breathe for fear of becoming his next target.
"We need to evacuate." Ailo, the representative of the Sawtooth Question Mark organization, looked at the void battlefield and realized the tide had definitively turned.
"No!" Urs screamed, "How can we retreat in such a humiliating fashion?!"
"Look at this first," Ailo said, showing him a video feed of a void fortress being overwhelmed just before its destruction.
Swarms of Astartes poured in, slaughtering the defending Traitor Guard and slave-soldiers in moments.
"The Corpse Emperor's angels." Urs clenched his fists, his voice thick with rage.
"They aren't immortal. Win the void war, and what can a few Astartes Chapters do? They'll be burned to ash by lance beams all the same."
"The problem is the sheer number. I estimate at least three thousand—that means three full-strength Astartes Chapters have joined this battle," Ailo said.
Urs's eyes widened. "That's impossible. The Calixis Sector shouldn't have three full-strength Chapters."
"The impossible has happened," Ailo stated grimly.
"I don't know how that Corpse Emperor's Saint pulled it off, but he mobilized three full-strength battle groups."
"The Rath Forgeworld is doomed to fall. We need to pull out before it collapses completely and save what strength we can."
"Damn it." Anger contorted Urs's face.
He turned to look at the other side of the bridge. Several sorcerers, marked with the eight-pointed star of Chaos on their foreheads, stood waiting.
"What about you? Do you have any suggestions?"
Urs desperately wanted to appeal to the Chaos Gods.
But the Chaos Sorcerers shook their heads, indicating they were powerless to intervene.
Even with massive sacrifices, the daemons of the Gods would struggle to contest the Imperial fleet in the void.
Realizing that he was truly powerless to turn the tide, Urs had no choice but to accept defeat.
"I will remember this blood debt. The Collin Dynasty will see every debt repaid."
"Now issue the order to prepare for evacuation. Tell all units to get ready to jump."
Word of the retreat quickly reached the ears of Dark Magos Galamond.
He protested vehemently.
"They have three Astartes Chapters; we don't stand a chance," Urs stated.
"That assessment borders on cowardice. You must hold the line! The research is on the verge of success."
Galamond shouted in his mechanical voice,
"Once we successfully activate the Paradox Engine, we will achieve true ascension and immortality, and break free from the Imperium forever."
"We have no choice. If we stay, we're all dead," Urs said. "Take the Paradox Engine's components and continue your research elsewhere."
Magos Galamond was livid. "I will never retreat! The Paradox Engine is the key to our total victory over the Calixis Sector, and the key to Ascension itself."
"As long as we can hold out until the Paradox Engine kicks in, we win."
"How much time do you need?" Urs demanded.
"Based on precise calculations, only another half month."
Urs almost burst out laughing in disbelief and anger.
You've got to be kidding me! Now, let alone half a month, he'd be lucky to hold on for even one more day, praying to his ancestors for protection.
If they don't get out of the void battlefield now, the fleet will be completely annihilated!
"That's impossible. We are retreating immediately," Urs reiterated firmly.
Galamond rejected him outright.
"I will never leave. Knowledge is paramount, and the Paradox Engine cannot be abandoned."
"I will gather all my remaining forces and hold the ground-based Forge Hive of Rastibi. Based on current ammunition and energy reserves, I have a 75.412% chance of holding it."
Urs's face darkened. "Do as you please, Great Magos. Just don't say I didn't warn you."
The communication channel went dead.
Galamond acted immediately.
He ordered all military supplies, including the St. Jao foundry and the slave population, to be moved to the surface.
He prepared to defend the Rastibi Forge Hive, where the Paradox Engine was located.
However, Urs's fleet collapsed faster than anyone anticipated.
Shortly after Galamond reached the surface, news arrived that the fleet had been utterly defeated and forced to jump out of the planetary system.
Many troops were unable to be evacuated and were left behind on the surface or at the void stations.
The Imperial fleet seized total control of the void throughout the Ras system.
Meanwhile, the loyalists seized the opportunity to launch their counter-offensive.
The traitors were forced to consolidate their defenses and hold key factories and fortresses.
The only chance to turn the tide lay with Dark Magos Galamond's Paradox Engine.
This technological artifact from a distant era became the traitors' last lifeline.
The Void War was winding down.
No enemy ship dared to challenge the Imperial Glory again.
Its kill record was so devastating that it instilled a deep, psychological fear in the traitors.
When it appeared, traitor ships instinctively scattered.
Using Astartes forces as the spearhead, the Loyalists swiftly eliminated every space station, void port, weapons platform, and fortress.
The remaining enemy ships retreated to the system's edge, like beaten dogs with their tails tucked.
Daniel ordered his forces to establish a blockade around the three main stellar bodies of the Ras Forgeworld—Had, Hersh, and Hutt.
At that moment, the loyalist forces on the surface sent a communication request to Daniel.
"Access granted," Daniel commanded.
The projection flickered, and a Magos appeared.
"I am Magos Morio, the head of the Oculum Foundry. I greet the Saint."
The Magos Morio spoke in a very humble tone.
He lacked the typical arrogance of the Mechanicus towards mortals.
"Magos Morio, thank you for your loyalty to the Emperor," Daniel said calmly. "Now that the enemy has lost its Void defenses and retreated to the surface, our forces are about to launch an attack. Do you have any suggestions?"
Magos Morio replied, "We will follow your guidance, Saint, but I suggest we first concentrate our forces on attacking the Forge Hive of Rastibi, where Galamond, who has abandoned the glory of the Omnissiah, is conducting his dark experiments."
Daniel nodded. "Then we shall proceed as planned. In the name of the Emperor, let all the traitors be punished."
"Praise be to the Omnissiah! We will fully support your offensive and commit our Titan Legions and Knight Houses," Magos Morio promised.
The war horns blared, echoing across the sky.
The loyalist forces on the surface launched the first attack.
The Titans of the Legio Venator, alongside numerous Guardsmen, launched their attack.
They were accompanied by Knight Suits from several major Knight Houses.
Like massive, hunched giants, they marched with heavy steps toward the fortress-city of Rastibi.
Dense barrages of artillery fire pounded their Void Shields, causing them to flicker violently, but failing to halt the advance.
The Imperial forces in orbit seized the opportunity to send their troops to the surface.
They joined forces with the loyalists on the surface to assault the Forge Hive City of Rastibi.
To defend the Rastibi Hive City and buy time to activate the Paradox Engine,
Galamond had mobilized the vast majority of his military forces there.
This included the Traitor Titans and Renegade Knight Houses.
Thus, the massive war machines clashed on the ground in fierce combat.
The entire region was engulfed in artillery fire, turning everything in sight into a scorched wasteland.
Seeing the two sides locked in a fierce deadlock, Daniel chose to join the war, hoping to hasten the enemy's collapse.
Flapping his pure white wings, he soared into the sky.
Wherever he flew, the loyalist troops below cheered him on.
"Accept the God-Emperor's wrath!"
Daniel dodged the artillery fire aimed at him, his energized spear held ready, as he charged toward a Warhound-class Titan wreaking havoc on the battlefield.
This sight seized everyone's attention.
To challenge a Titan, a god-machine of war, with one's own flesh and blood was undoubtedly an act of madness.
A burst of violent psychic energy instantly erupted, and the spear in Daniel's hand shone with a light as bright as a miniature sun.
The spear punched right through the Warhound-class Titan's armor, and the surging lightning instantly reduced the Titan's Princeps to charred remains.
As the light faded, the massive Warhound-class Titan collapsed to its knees, engulfed in fire.
Titus, who had just finished off a mutated creature, stared wide-eyed, his face a mask of disbelief.
"Tearing apart a Titan with bare hands???"