On the bridge of the Flamewrought, Vulkan watched everything unfold via the hololith projection. He lowered his head, remaining in deep thought for a long time.
Psychic sorcery amplification?
The Primarch naturally refused to believe such a clumsy excuse. The supernatural fire did indeed belong to the psychic domain, yet it was absolutely not triggered by any psychic witchcraft.
Vulkan could clearly perceive that the flames originated from the warriors of the Eleventh Legion themselves. The wrath in their hearts had simply coalesced into physical matter, wrapping them in blazing fire as they lunged at the enemies of mankind.
"Forget everything about this. Seal it in your hearts," the Primarch's voice echoed, deep and resonant. His crimson eyes swept across his sons, commanding absolute silence regarding the incident.
He pondered for a very long time, his benevolent nature wrestling with his sense of duty. Ultimately, his kindness won out, and he chose to help his brother's Legion conceal the truth.
No matter the circumstances, the Space Marines of the Eleventh Legion remained unflinchingly loyal to the Emperor and to humanity. They bore an unknown curse, waging compliance campaigns on the galactic rim amidst misunderstanding and suspicion; this perseverance and loyalty had already surpassed that of most humans.
Furthermore, the genetic father of the Eleventh Legion had not yet returned, making it inappropriate for outsiders to interfere in the Legion's internal affairs. Vulkan thought to himself: Once my brother returns, I will find a way to resolve these issues and seek help from the Emperor Himself.
After carefully weighing the consequences, he reached out and tapped the holographic console: [Rangdan Campaign — Planetstrike Engagement, R-4 System]
[Eleventh Legion Combat Log: Record Deleted]
[Operator: Primarch Vulkan]
[Authorization: Valid]
Having done this, Vulkan's massive shoulders slumped slightly as he exhaled a heavy breath, uncertain whether his actions were right or wrong. The Second Legion served as a grim precedent; perhaps the Eleventh Legion too—
The total war against the Rangdan was in full swing, yet this conflict, which carried the fate of two empires, seemed stained by an ominous shadow from its very inception.
"Hoo—"
The Primarch's sigh was like the heavy, powerful draw of a blacksmith's bellows, yet it carried an undercurrent of pity and sorrow. Vulkan was inherently a kind-hearted soul; joining the Great Crusade was his way of protecting the human race and averting further tragedies.
Yet now, he felt that as the Crusade pressed on, the dark mists were not being dispelled by the light. Instead, they grew deeper and more profound, shrouding the Imperium, the human species, and even that radiant Father who strove to pierce the darkness for mankind. Even the brilliance of the Master of Mankind could not dispel this thickening gloom.
Refocusing his gaze on the holographic display, Vulkan cast aside his melancholy.
The Eleventh Legion had breached the fortress, routing the elite Rangdan warriors and purging the foul xenos infesting the industrial zones. Twelve thousand Space Marines had fallen to eliminate eighty thousand Rangdan xenos; the remaining alien combatants were currently being driven down and hunted. The casualty ratio was exceptionally pleasing.
Vulkan shook his head. This beautiful war report had been bought at far too high a price. The majority of the industrial world's functional sectors were ruined, over a billion citizens had perished, and orbital bombardments had utterly shattered its former prosperity.
"Issue orders," the Lord of the Firedrakes commanded, his gaze hardening as he laid out operational directives. "The Eleventh Legion will leave clean-up personnel and support vessels. The main body of their Space Marines will return to orbit for post-combat refitting and rest."
"The fleet will consolidate its defensive perimeters and await logistical resupply from the Imperium's rear elements."
"The Salamanders Legion will dispatch Techmarines to coordinate with the Adeptus Mechanicus Tech-Priests. Utilize the industrial infrastructure of R-4 to repair or construct bio-pharmaceutical manufacturing plants, and prepare for even harsher conflicts ahead."
The commands were dispatched one by one, interspersed with vital intelligence reports.
The appearance of cerebral-fluid needle-guns in the Rangdan rear sectors was an incredibly targeted weapon that possessed extreme lethality against Space Marines. Aside from dispatching forces to reinforce allied lines, the primary assault Legions of the Imperium were slowing their advance, waiting for the rear echelons to deliver bio-pharmaceutical counter-agents and technical schematics across all Legions.
The Salamanders possessed the technical capability, which was why Vulkan intended to fire up the forges right where they stood, establishing bio-agent manufactorums. Not only could they supply his own Legion, but once production capacity expanded, they could provide for his brother Legions as well.
Vulkan also had a subtle tactical layout in mind—building manufacturing infrastructure on the front lines would inevitably make them a thorn in the Rangdan's side, enticing the alien fleets to strike. By reversing the roles of attacker and defender, the Legion could trade minimal costs for far greater tactical victories.
As a member of the Primarch brotherhood, though Vulkan was benevolent by nature, his martial instincts were not lacking in the slightest. He was gentle, but he was far from foolish.
The Salamanders and the Rangdan vanguard fleets remained locked in a temporary stalemate. The construction of the bio-pharmaceutical manufactorums commenced, proceeding in an orderly fashion under the precise arrangements of the Lord of the Firedrakes.
The Meat Grinder of the Stars
Under a different sector of the starry expanse, the conflict raged white-hot, with both factions locked in a desperate, inseparable struggle. The Ultramarines' fleet and the Nuur armada fought shoulder to shoulder; arrayed before them was an ultra-large-scale Rangdan invasion fleet.
The star system had been thoroughly reduced to a wasteland. Several planets had been blasted into fragments by an astronomical concentration of firepower, and the hulls of shattered warships intermingled, leaving nothing but a sprawling landscape of ruin as far as the eye could see.
Azure energy beams cut across the void, instantly overloading the shield systems of a Battle Moon, vaporizing it along with its escort fleet in an instant. The energy torrents pressed on without losing momentum, slamming into planetary fragments and triggering a series of cosmic disasters.
Yet even as another Battle Moon was obliterated, the tactical pressure did not ease in the slightest; instead, the atmosphere grew increasingly suffocating.
Over the past week, thousands of Rangdan warships had been destroyed, and seven Battle Moons had been turned into orbital debris. The attrition rate had reached staggering proportions.
Yet the Rangdan's resolve remained absolutely unshakable!
They were utterly fearless, pressing forward like lunatics despite their catastrophic losses, shattering half of the Ultramarines' fleet and crippling a third of the Nuur armada. The system contained nothing but wreckage; planetary shards and foundered warships were pulverized together, until soil and steel could no longer be told apart.
The Rangdan vessels utilized lances to overload void shields, following up with massive radiation beams that melted hull plating in an instant, vaporizing the crews within the warships. Battle Moons arrived one after another as if there were no end to them, carrying increasingly advanced weapon systems. Radiation beams melted hulls, psychic whips tore souls apart, and particle annihilation arrays reduced everything to fundamental particles.
The entire starscape had been transformed into a meat grinder under a perpetual shadow of death. Both mankind and the Rangdan threw themselves at one another at any cost.
Beyond the panoramic bridge of the Void Stalker, the void was packed with warships trading broadsides. In the distance, four Battle Moons advanced slowly, and tens of thousands of data alerts and warnings flashed across the displays every single second.
Carrier groups docked inside the Void Stalker's bays to resupply and fabricate fresh wings of strike craft. The super-heavy battleships and cruisers had completely depleted their conventional munitions, leaving only their plasma lances firing, their muzzles glowing a violent red from continuous overload.
Li Tang sat firmly upon his command throne, his eyes locked onto the tactical display. Those eyes, which usually burned with vivid intensity, were now rare vessels of profound exhaustion.
This engagement had come far too suddenly, and it was entirely too brutal.
The Rangdan had systematically funneled over ten thousand warships and an entire dozen Battle Moons alongside countless logistics assets into the theater, all to wrestle for control of this star system. The xenos launched suicidal assaults under the direct orchestration of their Overlords, carving out a path paved in their own carcasses. Over the span of a Terran week, the intensity of the conflict had risen continuously, utilizing a concentration of force that could have easily brought any other star sector to compliance.
With the war escalating to this threshold, the word "brutal" was no longer sufficient to describe it. Salvage fleets circled the perimeter of the battlefield like vultures, dragging away shattered hulls to recover materials, straining every ounce of their wartime logistical potential. Both sides had turned blood-blind in this frantic slaughter; it was now an absolute war of annihilation!
"Logos Li Tang, we can finally abandon this dead system."
A hololith projection flared to life, revealing Roboute Guilliman with his brow tightly furrowed, a trace of sheer powerlessness lingering in his eyes. The Rangdan horde was advancing with terrifying momentum, like a cataclysmic flood that was near-impossible to stem. Even with Ultramar and the Nuur Stars joined in alliance, they could not hold the primary defensive nodes.
Since the commencement of the engagement a Terran week ago, the Ultramarines' fleet had suffered catastrophic losses, with a thousand capital ships foundered and even greater numbers of frigates and auxiliary vessels lost. This grueling encounter had completely redefined the Primarch's understanding of warfare; next to this, apocalypse-class engagements appeared insignificant. If not for the Void Stalker serving as an unbreakable anchor point, the star system would have fallen long ago, allowing the Rangdan horde to drive deep into the Imperium's territory.
Li Tang offered a nod of acknowledgement to Guilliman, his eyes never straying from the hololith display as he asked in a raspy voice, "My Lord Primarch, how are the defensive lines further back coming along?"
At this question, the tension across Guilliman's brow eased slightly, and he replied swiftly, "We have exceeded our projected milestones."
"The first wave of twenty star-fortresses has been towed from the forge worlds to their designated coordinates, uniformly deployed across the vital star systems intersecting the Warp transit lanes to form a fortified line."
"The initial contingent of void-defense platforms has also been rushes into completion, establishing a preliminary defensive grid."
"With these assets configured, we now possess defensive anchor points to counter the slow advance of the Rangdan Battle Moons. Your vessel will no longer be required to carry the entire theater alone."
Guilliman's words were noticeably calmer, though his tone carried a trace of embarrassment. Throughout this entire encounter, had it not been for the ferocious firepower of the Nuur fleet anchoring the front lines against the Rangdan armada, he would already be facing censors for a catastrophic failure of duty.
"Understood." Li Tang let out a long breath, and with a single thought, he broadcasted the phased withdrawal orders across his command channels. He turned to the Primarch and said, "We extract within two hours. My ship will detonate the system's star to deliver a cataclysmic blow to the Rangdan fleet."
Guilliman nodded gravely, the tight furrow completely smoothing out from his brow. "The Ultramar fleet will commence its phased extraction immediately."