Chapter 339: He thought of Everything, Except Whether He Could Actually Win
Bridge of the Iron Blood, Fleet Command
"The Dawnbreaker Fleet is still withdrawing. They still refuse to engage."
Forrix, commanding the assault, watched the casualty figures and the destruction of warships with indifference. He coldly ordered these steel behemoths and the creatures within them to their deaths, opening a breach for the main Iron Warriors force.
It was a brutal attrition.
The retreat of the Dawnbreaker Fleet was orderly, their defense line remaining as solid as an iron wall. Any enemy ship that advanced too rashly was met with precise strikes. Perturabo's provocations had not shaken them in the slightest.
Ships tasked with tearing open the line often had to pay several times their own cost in damage just to open a path for the follow-up fleet.
The attrition rate was heart-stopping.
But the Iron Lord didn't care.
Forrix turned his head slightly, using the interval between reports to glance at Perturabo out of the corner of his eye. In those black eyes, there was only ever one ship.
The Dawnlight.
"Soon."
Perturabo coldly calculated the retreat trajectory of the Dawnbreaker Fleet, examining their connection points with Cadian surface fire support and the relative distances to active landing zones.
The Dawnbreaker Fleet's retreat was inevitable. Engaging the Iron Blood's charge head-on at the first moment would only lead to heavier losses for the fleet, achieving the Iron Lord's strategic goal faster.
So he chose to retreat.
Expected.
"Do you know what the greatest flaw of the Lord of Ultramar is, compared to me?"
The Iron Lord seemed to be in a good mood, speaking leisurely after noticing Forrix's gaze.
"..."
Forrix remained silent, fully focused on maneuvering the fleet to intercept the Eternal Crusader, perfectly fulfilling the duty of an Iron Warrior.
Both a qualified tactical executor and a competent conversational foil.
"He possesses true rationality."
Perturabo commented.
"Unlike the self-proclaimed rationality of my past brothers, Romulus has always discarded factors that would interfere with his judgment, including emotions."
He was reviewing every battle he had fought against Romulus over the years.
From the start of the full-scale harassment of Vigilus, to the massive engagement in the Scarus Sector, to the full-scale war now engulfing the entire Cadian Sector.
Romulus continuously collected and analyzed massive amounts of information, precisely calculating the gains and losses of every action, always making decisions with absolute rationality, never swayed by any emotional factor.
Even if a star system was plunged into purgatory by the bloody massacres and live sacrifices Perturabo unleashed, this deliberate provocation could not shake his judgment in the slightest.
He would calmly redeploy Legion forces that might have been committed to this war of attrition to the next target area with greater strategic value, thereby saving more worlds from disaster.
When you spread rumors slandering Romulus in the reclaimed zones, inciting rebellions on worlds that had just returned to Imperial rule with great difficulty, this stain on his honor wouldn't even attract his attention for a moment.
Those trivial rebellions would eventually only be presented to his desk as resolved results.
His gaze was always locked on the more critical deployments of various parties, poured into the strategic layout of the sectors surrounding the Eye of Terror, and the precise control of the long supply lines spanning several sectors.
Everything was cold data.
"Therefore, I cannot rely on a series of provocations to make him err."
Perturabo smiled confidently:
"As long as I make him understand that the benefits of facing me directly outweigh continuing to avoid me, then without further pressure from me, he will deliver himself to my door."
He coldly watched the fleet retreating from Cadian orbit under the offensive, like driftwood pushed away from the shore by the tide.
"Continue the pressure. Regardless of losses, drive the Dawnbreaker Fleet out of Cadian airspace."
When the Dawnbreaker Fleet was pushed to the edge of orbit under heavy pressure, it had to face a dilemma.
Continue to climb, abandoning the advantage of orbital support, or choose to engage, accepting Perturabo's invitation to begin a frontal slaughter and confrontation with the Iron Warriors.
There were still two space elevators operating on the surface of Cadia.
The consumption of a Fortress World was terrifyingly huge. Even with the miraculous support of the Primarchs, transport ships from other systems were needed to enter the Cadian system. They appeared at the edge of the system almost every day and needed fleet protection to complete the material input.
Retreat was no longer an option; the cost of retreating far exceeded holding the line.
Thus, the Dawnbreaker Fleet chose to change formation.
The massive Dawnbreaker Fleet shed its previous restraint. The dormant blade tore open its sheath and began to engage the Iron Warriors fleet, guarding various orbital points to secure air superiority.
So he chose to engage.
Everything was as expected.
"My lord?"
Forrix probed in a low voice.
The time had come.
"I will win, Forrix."
The Iron Lord did not move. He sat on his throne and fell into a slumber.
Suddenly, a pool of molten steel surged and rose, solidifying into the outline of a towering giant.
Forrix could sense his gene-father's will pouring into that new shell like a flood—
At this moment, the Primarch poured most of his essence into it.
"I am learning. Romulus taught me to put down my arrogance."
This was Haemonculus technology. Fulgrim had personally gone to Commorragh. No matter how tough and cruel the Drukhari were, they could only kneel before the Phoenix Lord.
They offered everything Chaos desired, including the secret art of tearing souls apart.
The threat of those four being able to kill souls was real, so the Iron Lord had thought of everything he might face.
Perturabo believed he was always improving. He adhered to caution, shed his arrogance, and used the power in his hands appropriately according to his needs.
He forced the opponent's hand with inferior forces, paying countless casualties, just for one moment.
He had thought of everything. In this campaign born of his desire, he was not swayed by desire or the negative emotions brought by the disastrous performance of his allies.
Now, he was about to step onto his battlefield.
The Iron Circle automata coiled in the bridge began to awaken, the hum of metal joints echoing against the bulkheads.
Warsmith Kroeger, responsible for accompanying his gene-father on the boarding action, adjusted his armor.
In the past, this Warsmith had won Perturabo's appreciation for his decisiveness and strength.
But now, coexisting with a Khornate daemon in his armor, his mind occupied by slaughter, he had lost the qualifications to be a battlefield commander.
The Primarch gave him a new duty.
"I will win. I will face my brothers and deny them."
Perturabo left the bridge under Forrix's gaze, leading his Siege Tyrants and dozens of Iron Circle automata. The Iron Blood consciously opened a path for its master.
"I will cut the threads connecting the puppets deceived by the Emperor, my sons."
"Then, I will return in triumph."
Everyone heard the Iron Lord's whisper, quenched with cold obsession.
I will lead them to create a new kingdom, relying neither on the Emperor nor the Four Gods.
A kingdom belonging to me.
Ramesses: "Eighty percent of Primarchs believe they are at least stronger than the other eighty percent of Primarchs."
Romulus: "What about the remaining twenty percent?"
"They believe they are stronger than everyone."
"Have they never thought they might lose?"
"How did Ferrus die? How did Curze get cut down by the Lion? Why did Russ dare to stab Horus, who was juice-maxed by the Four Gods?"
"..."
"Here~ Data from when Perturabo fought Angron before. Although it was in the warp, it has some reference value. Run it again."
When the right to choose was actively handed to the Dawnbreaker Fleet, everyone looked at the blue giant in the center.
Everyone knew there was no retreat.
They had minimized losses in every step of decision-making, and now, it was the moment to face the enemy directly.
Unless they wanted to give up air superiority over Cadia.
The Iron Warriors used the method they were most familiar with, relying on tragic sacrifices to achieve their goal.
"My warriors."
Romulus spoke.
"Under unassailable conviction, we have prepared sufficiently for this battlefield, gathering all our strength. When the critical moment comes, we will inevitably face the cruelest battle situation—"
"And every one of you harbors a fervent wish, vowing to annihilate our enemies."
"So do I."
The blue giant clenched his fist. Everyone heard the tremor emitted with this clench.
"I share this desire with you. I restrain it, tame it, not letting it drive me to make mistakes, but I will never forget it. When the battle situation requires, I will release this desire to slay our enemies."
Silence.
Captain Thiel nodded silently, while Drakus tensed his face and gritted his teeth.
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