"I agree as well."
The figure spoke from the high platform, his voice deep and heavy. The Emperor himself had made his stance clear—supporting Ferrus as the Supreme Commander.
"Brother," Blazkowicz said, lifting Ferrus's arm, his eyes burning with intense trust. "Do not decline. Your talent is more than enough to command."
Feeling the weight of this trust, Ferrus started to speak but hesitated. Finally, with a solemn nod, he accepted the heavy responsibility. With the joint support of the Emperor and Blazkowicz, he neither dared nor wished to fail them. He pulled away from his brother's support, raised his fist high, and stood tall to accept the formal certification of his authority.
The Lion felt a flicker of loneliness in his heart—disappointment, yes, but not discouragement. He had only recently returned and lacked seniority; this situation was unique. Once he achieved a brilliant track record, the position of Warmaster would still be within his reach.
The news of Ferrus's appointment as Supreme Commander was transmitted via Astropath, quickly reaching the command ships of every Legion. The Primarchs offered no objections. The Primarch of the Iron Hands had returned very early and conquered at a rapid pace; his Legion excelled at full-scale offensives, proving his superb strategic coordination.
As the meeting concluded, the Primarchs departed aboard their respective Blackstone Fortresses. Blazkowicz did not linger, immediately steering his fortress toward the Shana Sector to rendezvous with the Noor fleet.
Time flew, and seven Terran days later, Blazkowicz finally arrived in the Shana Sector. The forge system was now densely packed with Imperial warships; massive naval forces were detaching from the Iron Ring of the Forge World, reorganizing to head toward the combat zones. With Ferrus taking command, scheduling orders were issued with extreme speed, shifting the front lines into high gear.
"My Lord," Junior reported at the Primarch's side, relaying the deployment orders from the new commander. "Per the war command's request, Greater Ultramar is responsible for the defense of the Central Sector of the Eastern Fringe to block further expansion of the Rangdan forces."
"Lord Roboute Guilliman, Master of Macragge, has agreed to construct a 'Node Wall' spanning thousands of systems. The Primarch has summoned the Fourth Legion from within the Imperial borders to assist Ultramar in building defense nodes in the Central Sector, ensuring the front line remains locked on our side. In two Terran days, the Dark Angels will depart, pushing deep into the Rangdan Empire to execute extermination operations."
On the holographic sand table, ships in the conflict zone were as dense as swarms of ants. The Imperial fleet, centered around the Legions, patrolled the edges. Half of the Segmentum fleet—over 1,500 full-strength fleets and nearly 30,000 capital ships—had been committed to the war.
Blazkowicz reached out to brush away the holographic image and opened the dispatch panel. Selecting ships without looking back, he addressed Junior , "I'm leaving the Noor fleet and the Void Wanderer to you."
"I am going to assemble a rapid-strike fleet to penetrate deep into the Rangdan Empire, coordinating a pincer movement with the First—the Dark Angels. You have a high degree of autonomy; you are not in the standard Imperial line of battle. You may take the initiative to attack or join defenses at any time—just ensure you coordinate with the Imperial fleet."
As Blazkowicz spoke, his hands never stopped moving. Using the Blackstone Fortress as the core, he assembled an efficient extermination fleet. This fleet would focus on high-speed maneuverability, avoiding drawn-out engagements to strike the industrial and forge worlds in the Rangdan rear.
"You should not risk yourself, My Lord," Junior urged stiffly, his neck tense as he watched the massive amounts of extermination weaponry being loaded.
"A war between two empires is a catastrophe where a single slip can lead to ruin. Where would be safe then?" Blazkowicz shook his head with a smile, not taking the advice to heart. "We must seize the opportunity. Taking the initiative to strike gives us the advantage."
"Soras knows the Empire's potential. He is also planning and plotting to strike into the Imperial heartland, hoping to trap us in an endless war of encirclement. By striking first to seize the initiative and pushing back into Rangdan territory, the Imperium will have enough time to advance the front lines and grasp the chance for victory."
With that, the rapid fleet was selected. Orders were issued immediately, and ships and personnel began to muster. Blazkowicz chose half of the Legionaries and Custodes, along with the Iron Men units, preparing to break into the Rangdan interior.
They came and went in haste. The Blackstone Fortress opened a warp rift, and the fleet entered the Immaterium, advancing toward the heart of the Rangdan.
Junior watched his gene-father depart, then divided the remaining fleet into four groups. He deployed them to the major theaters, preparing to synchronize with the Imperial Legions—first stabilizing the defensive line, then launching a general advance into the Rangdan Empire.
In the core worlds of the Rangdan Empire, a debate was also about to begin.
Soras had returned to the Rangdan homeworld. Without pause, he hurried to the High Temple to consult with the xenos on how to attack the Human Imperium. The Rangdan homeworld was beautiful—a humid ocean world where the Rangdan had been born from the waves of the deep sea.
Located in the core of the empire, the Rangdan warriors had shed their biological armor. Their dark green brains used psychic power to hover in the air, wielding psychic whips to lash their slaves. The psychic slaves felt no pain; instead, their faces were filled with enjoyment, as if the lashing were some supreme honor. Among the slaves were humans, abhumans, rare Aeldari figures, and various other xenos.
Soras walked up the long stairs of the High Temple. On either side of the temple gates, every race enslaved by the Rangdan was carved into the stone—the xenos flaunting their ultimate achievements.
The palace corridors were grotesque. The bases of the stone pillars were built upon the backs of slave carvings, while the tops depicted Rangdan forms. No two pillars were the same. Streams ran along both sides of the palace; the water was transparent but viscous in texture, flowing slowly—composed entirely of brain fluid secreted by the Rangdan.
The Primarch reached the end of the hall. Rangdan Overlords crowded beneath twelve thrones, their faces expressionless, emitting waves of humility. Beneath the twelve thrones were living biological entities—overlords of the races conquered by the Rangdan, carrying their masters to receive audiences.
"You should have brought back a human legion."
From the primary seat on the high platform, the Supreme Sovereign of the Rangdan race sat encased in a psychic shield. The xenos overlord beneath it spoke, its voice incredibly hoarse.
With that emotionless questioning, the biological thrones of the Rangdan Sovereigns rotated. The Sovereigns stared at the human who had entered the hall, their gazes full of ill intent.
Soras's silver-grey eyes flickered with loathing. He did not answer the inquiry but walked to a stone chair at the end of the hall and sat down. He was the only alien Sovereign!
"The Supreme Sovereign is asking you," a piercing shriek came. Beneath another throne, a female Aeldari slave, her spine and flesh supporting a black throne, questioned Soras on behalf of her master. She added a reminder: "Outlander!"
"Are you questioning me?" Soras asked expressionlessly, glancing at the lowly slave before fixing his eyes on the Rangdan Sovereign: "The Silent Overseer?"
The Silent Overseer did not care, its sub-cerebral tentacles waving dismissively. The slave beneath spoke again: "I am merely reminding you that you did not bring back what was promised. You completed the trade back then and took those lowly slaves—"
"They are not slaves." Soras interrupted the Aeldari spokesperson, his voice calm but freezing. His eyes trembled slightly, but killing intent froze into an icy lake in the depths of his gaze.
"Oh? My mistake, then." A hint of mockery appeared on the Aeldari slave's slender face. "They are your friends. Do I need to apologize?"
"Enough!" A psychic wave erupted from the high platform, a hoarse voice sweeping through the hall. The monster beneath the Supreme Sovereign roared, "Put away your xenophobia. Soras's talents deserve our respect."
As the Supreme One spoke, the Sovereigns' thrones sank in unison, showing their ultimate respect.
"I did not bring back the Second Legion. Their will is firm; they will not betray the Human Imperium." Soras's face was as still as a deep pool. He tossed a storage module toward the Silent Overseer. "I dealt them a heavy blow and brought back intelligence on the Human Imperium."
"The Human Imperium has fully mobilized," his voice suppressed the psychic fluctuations in the hall. "If we are to win, we must be faster—faster than their war machine."
The Rangdan Sovereign took the storage module. The slave beneath spat lightly, using psychic force to press the module against the ground. An inky glow flowed across the surface as data was read; the flowing light carried the data stream, crawling like a worm up the Rangdan throne and into the Sovereign's brain.
Silence fell over the hall. The highest center of Rangdan power rapidly flipped through the intelligence on the Human Imperium within their minds.
"Do you have any suggestions?" On the high platform, the xenos beneath the Supreme Sovereign spoke—less roaring agitation, more serious inquiry.
"Exchange the horses," Soras spoke slowly, recounting an ancient Terran parable to the xenos leaders: Tian Ji's Horse Race.
"Use the weak to block the strong, and the strong to strike the weak." He turned to look up at the platform, slowly revealing his plan. "We must make sacrifices to secure victory in this war."
"The leaders of the Human Imperium, my—" Soras hesitated for a moment, his eyes narrowing before he said in a low voice, "My blood-brothers, each possesses talent and power no less than my own. Only through asymmetrical confrontation can the Rangdan Empire have hope for victory in a total war."
After speaking, Soras fell silent. In his intelligence, he rarely mentioned the Emperor. That was an unsolvable existence, glossed over as "difficult to assess."