Chapter 347: Mortals and Daemons
Apus Bastion, Central Command
8th Day, 4th Month, 775.M41
"13th Armored Regiment has completed defensive deployment in the S3-07 to E2-11 sector of the Third Ring Wall. Inner line Black Templars forces are in standby assault posture."
"We retain control of over 70% of the interior of the Third Ring Wall. Mobile units are about to encircle the enemy in sector N4-92."
"Anti-air array garrison has completed transfer. Kasrkin squads are initiating reactor overload protocols to neutralize the anti-air array zone."
Dull thuds resonated continuously through the thick adamantium outer walls, causing the entire command center to vibrate slightly under the ceaseless shockwaves.
Holographic projectors displayed a flickering tactical sand table in the air. Staff officers, clutching paper documents and steadying themselves against the trembling railings, shuttled between the circular platforms. Their reports remained astonishingly clear against the background noise of bolter fire.
The current Cadian Armored Regiments were not only equipped with Minotaur self-propelled artillery batteries capable of high-speed maneuvers on the kilometer-high ring walls but also boasted excellent communication facilities.
Even under severe conditions where warp encroachment distorted physical laws and caused precision equipment to fail, Astartes Librarians with psychic amplification devices and Inquisition-sanctioned psykers remained active in key warzones.
Relying on their innate talents, they maintained a stable and reliable intelligence flow for commanders on this Chaos-ravaged battlefield.
Thus forming an all-around crushing advantage.
Every time he commanded troops transformed by the Dawnbreakers, Commissar Alexei felt a sense of relief.
In the past, facing the threat of Chaos, let alone instruments or prosthetics, even the comrades around you became extremely unreliable.
He glanced up at the surveillance screens flashing with battle updates, took an encrypted data-slate translated by a Dark Angel, absorbed the information within, and quickly issued orders based on intuition accumulated over years of campaigning.
The true terror of daemons lay not in their muscular bodies colliding with Cadian soldiers in countless comms and video files, but in the whispers lingering in ears at all times.
With just a moment of hesitation or wavering, they would tear the soul apart, turning the body of flesh and blood into a vessel desecrating the loyal soul of its owner.
They were hunters, a school of piranhas hiding in the Sea of Souls waiting for food. The slightest wavering would end in being gnawed down to white bones.
Now, he could not only control the situation of units dozens of kilometers away in real-time but also command an elite legion that maintained absolute loyalty under Chaos erosion.
Most of the map was marked with golden icons. Staff officers proposed dozens or hundreds of combat plans based on their own experience and the advantages brought by Astartes cognition, then picked out the most reliable ones. The Commissar only needed to choose the optimal solution from these precise deductions.
"Report, Commissar. Northern fortress zone is about to complete encirclement of the enemy. Deathwing Terminators have successfully killed the Chaos warband leader. The 8th Company of the Black Templars 13th Crusade and the 2nd Company of the Argent Consuls control the flanks respectively, forcing the remaining enemies into the designated kill zone."
"We suggest artillery units cease suppression fire, reserving more engagement space for Astartes forces to annihilate this batch of enemies directly in close-quarters combat."
"Approved."
Alexei leaned on the edge of the tactical table, making one decision after another. His right hand unconsciously rubbed the hilt of his power sword. The sounds of battle came from communicators surrounded by Tech-priests, very far away from him.
Gently adjusting the heavy urn in his arms, feeling the cold touch of the metal surface.
Alexei asked:
"Our casualties?"
"Exceeding two hundred thousand. Including Astartes and Skitarii, combat unit attrition has reached 50%. Supplies remain sufficient and unpolluted."
A staff officer reported solemnly. The tacit understanding forged in the fires of war made details unnecessary.
Predictably, Cadia would face a demographic gap of several generations after this campaign.
"Acceptable."
The Commissar closed his eyes slightly, extracting reference memories from his long life, commanding troops to complete the encirclement.
His voice carried deep compassion, but no regret.
He continued to ask:
"What is the exchange ratio? Reserve troops status? Can we maintain long-term occupation of the Blackstone nexus?"
"Specific ratio is difficult to calculate precisely, but our forces hold absolute advantage. Besides Space Marines, Cadian garrison units equipped with heavy void armor and power weapons also maintain an advantage in contact engagements."
Watching the troops initiating annihilation operations, realizing he couldn't do much more to improve measures, the Dark Angel staff officer paused rarely.
He no longer used the discriminatory term "mortal" to address these warriors fighting alongside them.
Although the scale of the Primarch War was grand and once shocking, a campaign covering several sectors meant even a Chapter thrown into the battlefield would dissipate like a splash of water without a trace.
But as the war progressed to this point, the situation was indeed not as tense as imagined.
The staff officer glanced at his focused colleague beside him.
Unlike these glorious brethren personally recruited by the Lord of Knights, he came from the shame-filled Dark Angels Chapter.
When serving in the Chapter, he participated in countless operations to purge Chaos corruption. The situation then was far more desperate than now.
Mortals were always fragile in the face of Chaos erosion. The warp whispers that Astartes could resist were fatal to ordinary soldiers.
Friendly fire and mutiny caused by hallucinations often plunged entire regiments into chaos.
Now they had become high-quality auxiliary forces for Astartes, capable of providing sufficient fire support for personnel-strapped Astartes, allowing the gene-enhanced warriors to fully utilize their superhuman talents.
Alexei also looked away to the casualty details on the table.
Indeed, even now, all operational regimental units retained their garrison designations, indicating losses were within controllable limits.
Remember, they were facing the Khornate daemon host, blood bringers famous for their combat skills in countless legends.
"It seems they are not as brave and skilled in battle as the legends say," someone joked. It was Lieutenant Messinius of the Argent Consuls.
In this campaign, the Argent Consuls dispatched three Battle Barges and their accompanying escort fleet, including two Strike Cruisers—essentially going all in.
With the Primarch's formal permission, they finally didn't need to hide the "minor issue" of Legion size. With excellent tactical literacy and profound understanding of the Cadian Gate defense zone, these elite warriors were active in various key command locations.
Years of experience dealing with Chaos forces gave them a thorough understanding of these archenemies.
When the Primarchs cleared away interference factors outside the battlefield and the Imperium's Byzantine bureaucracy, this campaign finally allowed these warriors to wash away past shame.
"Yes, we have been winning continuously, morale is high."
Pushing a chess piece forward, focusing on the stable golden occupied area, Alexei's voice was sonorous and forceful:
"The lords foresaw this day long ago, and now we witness and recognize it with our own eyes. We will defeat them now, and we will defeat them countless times in the future."
"Yes, sir!"
The resolute declaration, the soaring emotion revealed in every gesture, involuntarily straightened the backs of everyone in the command room, which had drooped slightly from fatigue.
On the smoke-filled battlefield, boosting morale has always been an important duty of a commander.
Firm words can transmit the conviction of inevitable victory, allowing every soldier to draw strength from the commander to continue fighting.
"Emergency military intelligence!"
A messenger came to the Dark Angel's side and reported quickly:
"An Emperor's Children warband has infiltrated sector N8-32 and maintains high-speed advance. They mainly target Astra Militarum units for harassment and are gathering intelligence on our logistics area."
"Progress?"
"Not fast. After attacking units, they engage in revelry for a period, torturing and killing prisoners for pleasure."
The messenger said through gritted teeth.
Alexei exchanged a glance with the staff officer. Both caught fleeting surprise in each other's pupils.
Why did a Slaaneshi warband run here?
Then the Commissar issued an order.
"Connect Inquisitor Aglaia."
Pale psychic light quickly lit up in the eyes of an accompanying Librarian.
An arc of different colored light flashed from it.
"Deathwatch."
Alexei spoke.
"Flayed Skull."
The other side replied quickly. This was a secret known only to a few people in the galaxy now.
The opponent encountered by the Primarchs and Astartes elders disguised as Deathwatch in their first battle upon returning to the galaxy.
"Sector N8-32 of the Apus Third Ring Wall encountered infiltration by an Emperor's Children warband. Approximately 200 Chaos Space Marines. No heavy vehicles found. Requesting support."
The Astra Militarum and Astartes populations were huge, and excessive promotion made effective control and dissemination of daemon knowledge impossible, so dealing with different daemons usually required Inquisitors to guide them.
Especially in terms of psychic power, Ramesses, with his understanding of daemon characteristics from unknown sources, constructed a series of spells that were gradually popularized among psykers with recent technological breakthroughs.
Currently, the Grey Knights units had the fastest learning progress. They were also deployed inside bastions and for dealing with small-scale Chaos threats.
"I need troops. A tactical squad of Astartes, a Librarian, and a company of elite Astra Militarum."
"Approved. Deployment complete in thirty minutes."
"Received."
The communication hung up. Alexei drew a new marking line on the tactical map.
He exhaled a deep breath of turbid air, indescribable emotions surging in his chest.
The key was not that the other party obeyed the order—
But that one side dared to make a request, and the other chose to give trust.
As this war progressed, the trust lost by the Imperium for ten thousand years was being reconstructed at an exaggerated speed.
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