Chapter 337: Fire From the Heavens
Cadia, Antares Landing Zone, Tucana Bastion
The Blood Angels fought bathed in blood at the very front lines.
They were still as beautiful as statues, yet their presence was sharper than ever. The noble traditions upheld since the Angel's return were temporarily set aside in the escalating fires of war. The killing instinct branded deep in their genes was thoroughly awakened as the battle raged.
When Gabriel Seth led the Death Company in counter-charges, using the bulwark as cover to devour one reckless siege squad after another, the sound of power swords severing steel and flesh echoing over the vox, the Blood Angels transformed into the purest, most primal incarnation of fear.
No one was afraid.
Mortals fought shoulder-to-shoulder with them. Whenever the aggressive Angels disrupted the formation of a siege team, artillery fire from heavy war machines followed immediately.
Lascannon arrays wove a scorching web of fire in the night sky, tearing the formations of Chaos traitors to shreds.
Everyone knew the violence of the Angels, but this was a truth revealed only to the enemy.
No one dared to use this flaw to attack the defenders of humanity anymore.
The truest, most well-known essence of the Blood Angels was that they were the protectors of humanity, using themselves as weapons to bring fear to their foes.
The grey-blue Executioners Legion also stood firm in the bloody battle. They formed the steel spine of the defense line, honor badges inlaid with skulls clinking on their armor. Ten thousand years later, the sons of Dorn who had left their parent Chapter during the Third Founding still fearlessly faced attrition and brutal grinding warfare.
With the tenacious will of battle-brothers, they crushed every enemy charge and tore open the opponent's lines with even fiercer counterattacks.
They did not yield an inch, nor did they advance rashly.
Armor covered in gore, shields shattered in their hands.
Weapons began to steam from overheating, blades were chipped and jagged, only the energy fields of power weapons still shone.
Looking around, they were little different from the Blood Angels bathed in blood.
Fafnir Rann's yellow armor flowed with enemy blood. He was invincible in a pile of enemy corpses.
His twin axes swung constantly, hacking at the heads and bodies of Chaos traitors, hooking torn limbs on every return stroke and throwing them into the dust kicked up by artillery fire.
He stood with Sarpedon, his Blood Angel brother, also dyed red with blood.
Back to back, they faced fierce attacks from all directions.
Rann never thought he would see his old comrade again, let alone ten thousand years later.
Back then, they had trusted each other like this, defending against powerful enemies together.
On a similarly sturdy battlement on Terra, at the Saturnine Gate.
Ten figures surrounded him.
The smoke in his memory overlapped with the fire before him, as if time had never passed.
Bang!
A massive force swept out, cutting an Iron Warrior who only reached his arm height in half at the waist, spraying rotten organs onto the scorched earth.
Then the axe blade continued unabated, piercing the shield of a Siege Tyrant, then cutting him and the gunner beside him in two.
Seven left.
Blood dripped down the grooves of his faceplate. Rann entered a state of absolute focus, dodging direct plasma fire, parrying enemy shields and blades, then burying his axe into ceramite and bone.
Whoosh!
Turning, scorching fire grazed his body.
Under the cover of Sarpedon's exquisite swordsmanship, the damaged axe blade detached again. The handle mechanically reached back, and a spare blade was instantly replaced.
Rann faced the last Iron Warrior. He was brave, using his comrades' corpses as cover, attempting a close-range suicide attack.
Rann exploded into motion, power boots crushing congealed blood scabs, crossing ten meters of bloody mire.
His iron palm gripped the opponent's curled arm. The short axe on his left arm slid down the chain, and with immense strength, he forcibly straightened that arm.
Then a kick sent the melta bomb flying, followed by an axe severing the spine.
The new Mark X power armor had built-in servo motors, leaving a large amount of redundant space in the backpack area previously used to carry power equipment.
Rann was not accustomed to converting the backpack area entirely into a jump pack like his respectable cousins. Instead, he stored enough armaments and a little fuel for five emergency maneuvers.
Squelch~
Supported by his powerful physique and power armor, the axe blade cut through the enemy's waist as easily as cutting butter. Knowing the nature of Chaos blessings, Rann followed up with a backhand strike, the axe edge embedding deeply into the opponent's faceplate.
Throwing down the corpse, re-gripping the chain-wrapped axe handle, Rann swept his cold and bloodthirsty gaze around, suddenly finding no enemies nearby.
At the edge of the void shield outside the bastion, friendly artillery support never ceased. The precise firepower net tore apart any enemy formation attempting to penetrate the shield. The Astartes only needed to focus on siege squads of equal caliber.
Further away, the towering War Hound Hal also stood beside a pile of corpses. He excelled at single combat, and his soul could bear the weight of that superb body.
They looked at each other from a distance, then raised their hands to signal they were still alive.
Unlike the Siege of Terra, at this moment, they were the ones with the advantage.
The Dawnbreakers had facilitated the integration of mortals and Astartes early on. Whether mortal or Astartes, all obeyed the command of a single government.
Warriors like Rann, returned from ancient times, successfully bridged the rifts that had formed between Chapters over the long independent years with the camaraderie that had not faded in ten thousand years.
Technological iteration was picked up again, the power of faith was reasonably utilized, and the warp power once feared like tigers and wolves received a systematic explanation, establishing a truly 'scientific' understanding.
Of course, nothing in the world is perfect, especially in this universe full of malice.
Technological innovation comes with risks, the power of faith may distort, and there are always those who question Lord Ramesses's interpretation of the warp. Progress always walks hand in hand with crisis.
But every time a technology was targeted and corrupted by Chaos, it meant the birth of a qualified scientific research group. Every time one person fell, dozens or hundreds established a correct understanding.
Undoubtedly, the Dawnbreakers united the vast majority of people.
Now they were stronger, better, more united, and full of fighting spirit.
So they would achieve final victory; it should be so.
Whoosh—
A cluster of meteors streaked across the sky. The blazing white tails burned scorched scars into the clouds, dragging a straight trajectory through the atmosphere.
Faint feathers of light fell; those were the Burning Angel's molten wings. Following them came the message for all units operating outside to withdraw into the Tucana Bastion.
After hearing the comrade's explanation, Rann and Sarpedon exchanged a glance. Their power packs spewed blue flames simultaneously, hurriedly following the meteor tearing through the sky.
"My lord!"
"Lord Arthur!"
On the inner ring wall of the Tucana Bastion, the blood-soaked warriors saw the two Primarchs who had recalled them.
The Burning Angel's armor still had dried blood scabs.
While the armor of the Lord of Knights remained pristine.
At this moment, their faces bore serious expressions. Sarpedon, who had spent years with both, could notice the shallow furrow between Karna's brows and the tight line of Arthur's mouth.
"My lord?"
Climbing the six-hundred-meter-high wall, Sarpedon dragged his blood-stained cloak forward.
Beside him were Gabriel Seth, Fafnir Rann, and War Hound Hal. Their armor was also covered in blood, which would be medals proving their dedication in the future.
"Are the troops recalled?"
The wind tore at the tattered banners. Karna continued to stare intently at the sky, while Arthur, who had completed the resupply of the bastion's resources, asked.
"Completed. Specific data is being tallied," Sarpedon replied immediately.
"After completing the statistics, organize engineers, sappers, and Techmarines to reinforce the inner wall. Harassment raids are terminated. Concentrate all forces on defensive counterattacks."
"Secondly, order the anti-air units to stop long-range support for other areas within the next half hour. Focus on defending the airspace and concentrate fire on any object entering visual range."
Arthur ordered.
"Yes."
Sarpedon nodded, somewhat puzzled why the Lord of Knights would issue such conservative orders.
For months, the defense of the Tucana Bastion had been impregnable. The Chaos raids were more about leaving more warp influence in this area than conquering it.
However, the anti-air defenses of the three bastions were excellent. Although the influence continued to strengthen under seemingly endless investment, it was far from the level where a large warp rift could open.
But the Primarch would not act without reason.
Sarpedon quickly dispatched the Crimson Paladins to relay the order, then looked up at the sky with the Great Angel.
If he guessed correctly, the surprise was coming soon.
Hal also sensed something, squeezing past blast shields and following a narrow path to the front of the wall, his lenses adjusting the brightness of his vision.
The sky, covered by dense dust clouds, glowed with an unsettling red light.
A steel beast burned as it tore through the heavy curtain.
At the same moment, the completely blocked information transmission fluctuated slightly. In just this instant, the emergency communication channels of countless bastions were filled with warnings from the Dawnbreaker Fleet.
It was a Gloriana-class battleship.
Sarpedon recognized it at first glance. It was exactly like the fall of the Blood Angels' flagship, the Red Tear, ten thousand years ago.
It was the Conqueror.
She was once a blade among the stars, an extension of the Emperor's will, bringing liberation and salvation to countless humans.
Now, she was just a wreck wrapped in flames, falling from the high heavens, tearing through the clouds, dragging smoke and debris ignited by flesh and tissue, like a burning meteor.
The mottled emblem on the prow had long melted. The twisted metal skeleton emitted a piercing scream in the fall, refusing such a descent.
Turrets crumbled from the broken decks, falling to the barren earth below. Each was once an incarnation of destruction, now just burning scrap iron. The observation windows of the bridge remained tough; perhaps there were still living people inside.
No, there were certainly living people.
The atmosphere trembled.
Everyone watched the trajectory of the Conqueror's fall.
No one thought of how to stop her.
Such a massive ship could only be torn apart under the concentrated attack of a standard Legion fleet. Causing damage to it was beyond human capability.
The falling Conqueror, even bound by gravity, was constantly adjusting its attitude. The master controlling her was trying to find a suitable position, a position suitable for attack.
BOOM!
The anti-air array of the Tucana Bastion, prepared for a long time, decisively chose to fire.
Several bolts of plasma, a hundred meters in diameter, flew straight at the Conqueror. The blinding blue light illuminated the battlefield like day, but vanished the moment it touched the Conqueror, as if swallowed by some invisible maw.
The bombardment, powerful enough to overload a starfort-class void shield, was swallowed by a crimson rift. The Blood God, who had been passive since the beginning of the war, rarely took the initiative.
"..."
Looks like there are a lot of people on that ship.
Arthur shook his head, releasing his left hand from Karna's shoulder. His right arm rested on the hilt of his sheathed sword, the energy accumulating around the black blade still building.
Now he really couldn't attempt a boarding action, or he might jump straight into the Blood God's realm.
Everyone tensed, watching the fall of the Conqueror. The behemoth stubbornly adjusted its attitude under the constraints of gravity.
The engines of the Conqueror roared at full power, resisting the acceleration of gravity, circling the bastion for more than half a turn, and finally slicing into the earth at an almost infinitely parallel angle.
BOOM!
The massive warship plowed forward, tearing the sound barrier. The shockwave leveled the ruins below, forming a scar dozens of kilometers long and bulging the earth at the other end.
When the dust finally settled, the ship lay on its side, only its twisted keel still pointing to the sky, like a broken sword stuck in the earth. surprisingly, the edge of its still-functioning void shield formed an area almost tangential to the bastion's void shield.
Superb piloting skills.
Thinking it was a suicidal last stand, it seemed the opposing commander had not lost his reason.
Arthur narrowed his eyes and released his hand. The 'C'tan Shard Energy Concentration Protocol' terminated, and the energy accumulated inside the scabbard dissipated.
If the opponent chose to charge straight in, he wouldn't mind giving this ship a strike with Excalibur on his home turf. But now that the distance was widened, he couldn't catch them off guard.
"Initiate maximum missile coverage."
Arthur wasn't a tokusatsu villain; he didn't intend to give the opponent time to recover.
Missiles were quite effective weapons against void shields.
Although Imperial guidance technology was 'slightly' rough due to the lack of a satellite network, excellent material craftsmanship and Astartes laser guidance ensured the stability of the missile body during violent acceleration and deceleration and the precision of the strike on the target, perfectly utilizing the characteristics of void shields to inflict precise damage on internal targets.
The surrounding veterans stared solemnly at the battlefield, keenly capturing every trace of information.
From that crashed giant ship, they already felt the oppression brought by the mastermind. Everyone was on high alert.
A hair-raising shriek came from the sky.
Deathstrike missiles, in a sudden stop maneuver that violated common physics, penetrated two layers of void shield barriers consecutively.
Then, with a "pop"—
Like firecrackers stuck in gel, the missile bodies suddenly stagnated. The explosive shockwaves could only churn the surrounding air.
A curtain of the Blood God lay between the boundaries defined by the two void shields, becoming increasingly viscous.
Blood aura gathered, the sky burned.
Blood mist surged, the heavens ignited.
Whoosh—whoosh—whoosh—
An unending hurricane swept past, carrying embers and sparks.
Sweeping past the unblinking eyes of the warriors staring ahead.
☆☆☆
-> SUPPORT ME WITH POWER STONE
-> FOR EVERY 400 PS = BOUNS CHAPTER
☆☆☆
-> 30 Advanced chapters Now Available on Patreon!!
-> https://www.pat-reon.co-m/c/Inkshaper
(Just remove the hyphen (-) to access patreon normally)
If you like this novel please consider leaving a review that's help the story a lot Thank you