The Brevis ice plains.
The bone-chilling wind howled, whipping up snow until visibility dropped below fifty meters. The engine of the Baneblade tank let out a low, heavy rumble as it struggled through the deep drifts. Dominic rode his xenos mount alongside the tank, his face showing no sign of cold or fatigue—only excitement.
For the past two days, they had wandered aimlessly across the frozen wastes, searching for traces of the Frost Dragon. While the dragon remained elusive, they had encountered several small bands of roaming Greenskins. This suited Dominic perfectly; his hands had been itching for a fight. Every time they encountered Orks, he was the first to charge, swinging his power axe and tearing through their ranks.
His personal guard and the Sisters of Silence were all battle-hardened elites. Their coordination was flawless, and their combat prowess was staggering. In their largest encounter, they faced nearly a thousand Orks. It took less than twenty minutes to slaughter every single one of them, while Dominic's squad emerged virtually unscathed.
Over these two days, Dominic's hunting party had killed at least five or six thousand Greenskins. Among them were several "Big Un's," giving Dominic the chance to indulge in his hobby of dueling powerful foes. However, he never lost sight of his true objective.
"My Lord, there's a small Wildman tribe ahead," a guard on a motorbike reported loudly after returning from scouting.
"Wildmen?" Dominic's eyes lit up. "Let's go. They might know where the Frost Dragon is."
The group accelerated toward the tribal settlement. It was a tiny village consisting of barely a dozen tents. Upon seeing the fully armed Imperial force, the Wildmen hid in terror. Only a few elderly and infirm individuals stood trembling at the entrance, clutching primitive stone spears.
Dominic leapt off his mount and approached an old Wildman, asking in Gothic, "Do you know where the Frost Dragon is?"
The man looked confused, clearly unable to understand the official language of the Imperium. Fortunately, Dominic had brought along his Zeta-level psyker guard, who served as a top-tier translator and mind-reader. She conveyed Dominic's words to the old man.
Upon hearing the words "Frost Dragon," the old man's face turned deathly pale. He collapsed to his knees, kowtowing repeatedly toward the depths of the ice plains while muttering incantations. The other Wildmen followed suit, their expressions filled with profound piety and fear.
Dominic and Larfa exchanged a glance. It seemed the legend was deeply rooted in the hearts of these natives. After a brief exchange, the tribe seemed unwilling to reveal more. However, Dominic, having traveled to many systems, knew exactly how to deal with local populations.
Without a word, he headed back out into the wastes and went on a killing spree against the Greenskins. This time, he didn't let the snow bury the bodies; he decapitated them one by one. He also had the fleet air-drop a crate of supplies.
Returning with a pile of Ork heads and a large crate of goods, Dominic approached the tribe again. He claimed to be a devout follower of the Frost Dragon who held a blood feud against the Greenskins ravaging the plains. He stated he sought the dragon only for guidance to purge the foul Orks.
Seeing the hundreds of heads and the wealth of supplies, the old man bowed once more toward a specific direction. After a long silence, he looked up and said in a trembling voice, "The Divine Dragon... lives in the Twin Peaks..."
"Twin Peaks?" Dominic asked urgently. "Where is that?"
The old man pointed a withered finger toward a distant horizon deep within the wastes. "Over there. It is the dragon's holy land. No mortal may approach. Those who do are turned into ice statues."
He resumed his kowtowing, begging for the "Divine Dragon's" forgiveness. Dominic looked in the direction indicated but saw nothing through the storm. However, the circling fighters soon found the target. Through the swirling snow, two towering peaks could be seen huddled together like twin sisters, piercing the clouds.
The Twin Peaks. The lair of the Frost Dragon.
Dominic's heart hammered with excitement. After a whole day, he finally had a lead.
"Excellent!" Dominic shouted, mounting his beast. "Move out! To the Twin Peaks!"
"My Lord!" the captain of the guard tried to stop him. "The Twin Peaks are in the deepest part of the ice plains. The terrain is treacherous, the weather is lethal, and it's said to be crawling with monsters. It's too dangerous."
"Dangerous?" Dominic grinned, flashing his white teeth. "The most dangerous places are exactly where mythical creatures hide! Move out!"
He spurred his mount, and the beast let out a cry, bolting toward the Twin Peaks. Larfa shook her head helplessly and followed. In the sky, the Thunderbolt fighters roared ahead toward the destination.
No one noticed that behind a massive jagged rock not far away, a silver silhouette silently materialized. Solene watched the departing hunting party, a complex light flickering in her red eyes. She pressed a button on her vox-caster.
"Target is heading for the Twin Peaks."
"Copy that. Stay safe," Raynor's voice came through the comms.
Solene deactivated the link and vanished back into the snow, trailing the hunting party. Meanwhile, back at the village, the Wildmen stared at the frozen steaks and the hellgun capable of shattering three-meter-thick ice, lost in thought.
"Target is heading for the Twin Peaks. Estimated arrival in three hours."
The cold electronic voice filtered through the encrypted vox, accompanied by the whistling wind. Inside the Governor's Palace, Raynor's expression turned grim. They had found the lead after all.
"Three hours... it's not enough," Raynor said, his voice low and urgent. "Sarah, how long does it take for the Maw-locs to move all units?"
"At least four hours," Sarah's voice rang in his head. "The underground tunnels are too narrow. To move the remaining hundred test subjects and residual materials, we need to expand the tunnels. If they enter now, they will definitely find traces!"
Raynor took a deep breath and pressed the vox button again. "Solene, buy me some time. Just one hour. One hour is enough."
The other end remained silent for a few seconds. Solene was currently hidden behind a large ice crag, watching the snow dust kicked up by Dominic's party. A hint of hesitation crossed her red eyes. Delaying them meant she had to take active measures; if she were exposed, her cover would be blown. It wasn't that she feared exposure, but rather the nature of her relationship with Raynor...
Then she remembered the commoners in the Under-city whose eyes had regained hope, and everything Raynor had done for Brevis over the past six months.
"Fine," Solene whispered. "I'll try, but I can't guarantee a full hour. They're quite capable."
"Thank you," Raynor said with genuine gratitude.
"Don't thank me," Solene's tone returned to its usual coldness. "I just don't want to see Brevis turned into a scorched wasteland."
The connection cut. Solene put away the device, her gaze falling on a half-buried Squig carcass in the snow nearby. Her furrowed brows smoothed out. If one wanted a logical reason to delay a party, what could be more suitable than a horde of Orks?
On the ice plains, Dominic was galloping through the snow on his red, six-legged xenos beast. The freezing wind battered against his power armor, and visibility was less than five meters. He didn't care in the slightest; his face was etched with pure excitement.
The Twin Peaks—the lair of the Frost Dragon. As long as he could find that legendary dragon, this trip to the Calixis Sector would not be in vain.
"My Lord, the storm is getting worse ahead!" the captain of the guard shouted, riding a motorbike alongside him. "Visibility is dropping fast. Should we stop and rest for a bit?"
"Rest?" Dominic laughed heartily. "We're less than three hours from the Twin Peaks. It won't be too late to rest once we find the Frost Dragon!"
Larfa rode her motorbike on the flank, her grey eyes scanning the surroundings warily. Her brow was slightly furrowed. For some reason, she felt as if something was watching them from the shadows. That faint sensation of being observed had persisted ever since they encountered the Wildman tribe yesterday.
However, whenever she extended her perception, she found nothing. Was it an illusion? Larfa shook her head, dismissing the thought. Perhaps the harsh environment of the ice plains was making her overly sensitive.
Just then, an urgent transmission came from the Thunderbolt fighter squadron in the sky.
"Warning! Warning! Large number of moving targets detected to the southeast. Estimated count: ten thousand. They are approaching rapidly!"
"What?" Dominic reined in his mount and snapped his gaze toward the southeast.
Through the swirling snow, a faint green tide could be seen moving quickly toward them. The ground began to vibrate slightly, the sensation growing stronger by the second.
"Greenskins!" a guard shouted. "So many of them, and they're all riding Squigs!"
It was a horde of ten thousand Ork cavalry. They rode Brevis-specialized Ice Squigs—ferocious mutants twice the size of standard Squigs, covered in thick fur and boasting razor-sharp tusks. Leading them was a Snakebites Clan Big Un, nearly two and a half meters tall, wearing white fur armor. He swung a massive choppa and let out an exhilarated roar. He almost looked like a savage version of the Brevis Wildman cavalry.
"Ten thousand Ork riders..." The guard captain's expression grew grim. "My Lord, we should take a detour. We only have twenty men."
"Detour?" Dominic grinned, showing his white teeth, his eyes filled with the thrill of battle. "Why take a detour? This is the perfect chance to stretch my muscles!"
He suddenly drew the master-crafted power lance from his back, its tip shimmering with the pale blue light of a disruption field.
"Everyone, heed my command! Form a line centered on the Baneblade. Main cannon, provide suppression fire!"
"Thunderbolt squadron, commence aerial strikes! Personal guard, charge with me and crush these Greenskins!"
"Yes, My Lord!"
At Dominic's command, the Baneblade super-heavy tank ground to a halt. Its turret swiveled, locking onto the charging Ork cavalry.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
The Baneblade's cannon let out deafening roars. The recoil was powerful enough to push the seven-hundred-ton tank back through the snow. Each high-explosive fragmentation shell produced thousands of tungsten alloy shards, covering a vast area. Over a thousand Ork vanguard riders were torn to pieces, snow and flesh mingling in the air.
In the sky, twelve Thunderbolt heavy fighters dove down, their wing-mounted rockets falling like rain into the Ork ranks. Explosions rippled through the snow, instantly tearing massive holes in the Orks' charging formation.
But Orks knew no fear. They continued their frantic charge, screaming "Waaagh!" as they drew closer.
"For the Emperor! For Ventria!" Dominic shouted, spurring his mount. The red beast let out a roar and charged out like a rising flame. Twelve elite Ventrian guards followed close behind, striking the Ork cavalry like twelve bolts of golden lightning.
To them, combat was the easiest thing in the world. The Ventrian elites were like tigers among sheep, every strike claiming an Ork life. Their coordination was flawless; working in groups of three, they covered each other and neutralized every Ork attack.
Dominic was unstoppable. The master-crafted power lance in his hand danced like a blue flower. Any Ork that came near was shredded by the disruption field. The tusks of the Ice Squigs and the choppas of the Orks couldn't even scratch his master-crafted power armor.
The Snakebites Big Un soon noticed Dominic. Although he didn't see any "purple-eyes," this "humie" was powerful enough to satisfy his thirst for a good scrap. He roared, swinging his choppa as he charged at Dominic. Guards who tried to intercept him were sent flying by the massive Squig beneath him.
"Humie, die!" The Squig leapt, and the Big Un swung his blade with both hands, the edge whistling through the wind toward Dominic's head. The blow was incredibly heavy; if it connected, even master-crafted power armor would struggle to withstand it.
But Dominic's reflexes were faster. He yanked the reins, and the red beast reared up, dodging the horizontal sweep in a fraction of a second. The blade whistled past his leg, carving a deep trench in the snow.
Before the Big Un could recover, Dominic's power lance lunged out.
Pshhh!
The sharp tip pierced the Big Un's chest with precision. The pale blue disruption field flared, instantly disintegrating the Ork's organs and bones. With a wet thud, green blood blossomed.
"Da Boss is dead!" "Run for it!"
Seeing their leader slain, the Ork cavalry collapsed instantly. they turned and scattered in all directions.
"Pursue them! Don't let a single one escape!" Dominic shouted, leading his guards in a chase.
Half an hour later, the battle was over. The ten thousand Ork riders were annihilated. The snow was littered with the corpses of Orks and Squigs, the pristine white stained green. Meanwhile, Dominic's hunting party only had a few guards with minor injuries.
"Exhilarating! That was truly exhilarating!" Dominic laughed, wiping the blood from his power lance with a cloth. "It's been a long time since I had such a satisfying fight."
However, Larfa's expression remained grim. She walked over to an Ork corpse and knelt down to examine it closely.
"What is it, Larfa?" Dominic asked, walking over.
"Something is wrong," Larfa looked up and signed. "How did these Orks suddenly appear here? The Thunderbolt fighters have been patrolling the skies. There's no way they wouldn't have spotted them until they were this close."
Dominic's smile faded. Indeed, it was strange. A force of ten thousand Ork cavalry was a massive target; how could they have evaded aerial surveillance? Had someone intentionally lured them here?
As soon as the thought appeared, Dominic shook his head. Impossible. Who on Brevis would have the capability to lure ten thousand Ork riders?
"Maybe the storm was too thick and obscured the fighters' vision," Dominic suggested. "Don't overthink it. Let's keep moving. We need to reach the Twin Peaks before dark."
Larfa looked at him but said nothing more. The doubt in her heart, however, only grew deeper. That sensation of being watched had just returned.
Not long after they had reorganized and set out again, a low, heavy thundering of hooves echoed from the distance. The ground began to shake violently—more intensely than during the Ork cavalry charge.
"What is that?" a guard pointed into the distance, his voice laced with terror.
Everyone looked where he pointed. On the horizon, a white "wall" had appeared. It wasn't Orks, but a stampede of massive creatures. Each was five meters tall and nearly ten meters long, covered in thick, rock-like white armor with a pair of curved, razor-sharp horns. They charged forward with heads lowered, crushing rocks and sending snow flying in their wake.
"It's the Brevis Tundra Bison!" the guard captain shouted. As the captain of Dominic's guard, he had done his homework on the dangers of the ice plains. "Emperor above, there's at least a thousand of them! Why would they come here?"
The Brevis Tundra Bison is the most ferocious wild animal on the ice plains. Usually gentle in temperament, they become incredibly violent once provoked. A stampede of over a thousand bison constitutes the most formidable native force on Brevis. Even an armored tank company would not face them without trepidation.
This was far more terrifying than the ten thousand Ork riders from moments ago.
"Damn it!" Dominic's expression shifted. "Quick! Get behind the Baneblade!"
Everyone immediately scrambled behind the massive tank. Seconds later, the herd thundered past. It was like a moving wall of living steel. Giant hooves struck the earth, creating a deafening, rhythmic roar. The freezing wind, mixed with soil and shattered stones, pelted their power armor with a sharp clattering sound.
The Baneblade, weighing over seven hundred tons, shuddered slightly under the vibrations of the passing herd.
"What do we do, My Lord?" the guard captain shouted. "If we try to push through now, those damned bison will trample us into meat paste!"
"Don't panic!" Dominic said calmly. "Bison have no formation and no intellect. As long as we stay calm, follow their direction, and weave through the gaps, we can make it across!"
He climbed onto the roof of the Baneblade to observe the herd's movement. "Everyone follow me! Stay agile!"
Dominic was the first to leap off the tank, steering his six-legged beast toward a gap in the stampede. The guards and Larfa followed closely. They moved like nimble cowboys, weaving between the behemoths. They dodged the charging bulls, relying on masterful riding skills to avoid lethal trampling time and again.
When one bull veered sharply toward a guard, Larfa reacted instantly. Her power sword flashed, severing one of the beast's horns. In pain, the bison wailed and veered off in another direction.
The crossing lasted a grueling forty minutes. By the time the last person emerged from the herd, everyone collapsed onto the snow, gasping for air. While no one was injured, every suit of power armor was covered in scratches and dents.
"Damn it..." Dominic panted, swearing under his breath. "Today is cursed! First Orks, now bison!"
Larfa stood to the side, her grey eyes staring into the distant snowstorm. She could feel it—the sensation of being watched had vanished. This was no coincidence. The Orks and the bison appearing together to block them was a calculated move.
The objective was clearly to delay them. But who was behind it?
The face of Caelin Von flashed through Larfa's mind. Was it him? Why would he do this? Could it be... that the Twin Peaks really hid some unspeakable secret? Was the bond between Caelin Von and the Frost Dragon actually real?
By the time Dominic's hunting party finally reached the Twin Peaks, it was late at night. The heavy snowfall had finally subsided. Pale moonlight spilled over the two towering peaks, reflecting a cold, crystalline light.
The Twin Peaks looked no different from any other snowy mountain. Steep rock walls, thick snow, and a silence that was almost frightening.
"This is the Twin Peaks?" Dominic frowned, looking around. "It doesn't look like anything special. Would a Frost Dragon really live in a place like this?"
"My Lord, there's a cave over there!" a guard shouted, pointing to a massive opening at the base of the mountain.
The group moved toward the entrance. It was enormous—about ten meters high and fifteen meters wide. The interior was pitch black and seemingly bottomless. A blast of frigid air surged from the cave, carrying a faint, strange, musky scent.
Larfa's expression turned solemn immediately. Although she sensed no residual psychic energy, her intuition told her that something extraordinary had once resided here.
Something lived in here, Larfa signed.
"Something lived here?" Dominic's eyes sparkled. "Could it be the Frost Dragon?"
However, it seems to be an empty nest now, Larfa added, sensing no living presence.
"Even so, there will be traces. Let's go!" Dominic drew his power axe and prepared to enter.
"My Lord, be careful!" the guard captain intercepted him. "It's too dangerous inside. Let's send two men in first to scout the path."
"No need," Dominic waved him off. "Lady Larfa said there's nothing left inside. What danger could there be?"
"But—"
"No 'buts'," Dominic interrupted. "I trust Lady Larfa's judgment."
He ordered the captain to keep a group outside to stand guard while he, Larfa, and the remaining guards entered the cave.
The interior was even larger than expected. The walls were coated in thick layers of ice that shimmered under their flashlights. The deeper they went, the stronger the strange scent became. After walking for about half an hour, they reached the end of the tunnel. Everything seemed normal. It looked like any other natural cave.
"There's nothing here," Dominic said, disappointment creeping into his voice. "Is the legend of the Frost Dragon a lie?"
Larfa remained silent, but her furrowed brows indicated her own confusion. Her instincts insisted that something had existed here, yet they had found nothing. The group searched several more times, but aside from that strange smell, everything appeared ordinary.
Just as Dominic was prepared to leave in frustration, a guard noticed something. It was a section of the rock wall in a corner that looked unremarkable. But after tapping it with his hand, he noticed the texture felt different from the rest.
"Something is wrong here, My Lord. This wall is much thinner than the others."
Dominic walked over and struck the wall with his fist.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Sure enough, it produced a hollow sound.
"It's empty behind this!" Dominic's eyes lit up. "The secret must be on the other side!"
While the others considered the potential dangers, Dominic saw the hesitation in Larfa's expression. He instantly confirmed that something was indeed hidden back there. He pulled a fragmentation grenade from his belt, pulled the pin, and tossed it directly at the wall.
"Back up!"
The group scrambled back.
BOOM!
A massive explosion echoed through the cave, sending rocks and ice flying. As the dust cleared, a large breach appeared in the wall. An even thicker musky scent billowed out from the opening.
Behind the wall lay an incredibly vast underground cavern.
Dominic and Larfa shared a glance and nodded. Gripping their weapons, they stepped cautiously into the breach.
The underground cavern was astonishingly vast, stretching beyond the reach of their flashlights. Countless stalactites hung from the ceiling, and the ground was pitted with holes of varying sizes. The air was thick with that strange musky scent, mingled with a faint odor of decaying protein that made one's stomach turn.
Larfa's expression grew increasingly grim. She could clearly sense a significant amount of residual psychic traces here. Moreover, there was a scent she found all too familiar: the stench of the Tyranids. It was faint, but she was absolutely certain.
"Is this... some kind of beast's hatching nest?" Dominic also realized something was wrong. He knelt down, examining fragments of what looked like chitinous husks on the ground, as well as blurred etchings on the walls that appeared to be corroded by biological matter.
"Tyranids?!" Dominic instinctively turned to Lady Larfa, receiving an affirmative nod in return.
But the scale looks small. It might just be a probing attempt, Larfa signed.
"A probe? Why?" Dominic stroked his chin, somewhat puzzled.
The two continued deeper. In the far reaches of the cave, they found shattered carapaces, withered mycelium, and the dried remains of biological slime.
"It seems they attempted to hatch some Tyranid units here, but for some reason, they've already moved out," Dominic said, his voice heavy as he stood up. "They want to take root on this planet to prepare for a subsequent invasion."
"What about the Frost Dragon?" a guard asked.
Dominic shook his head, looking uncharacteristically disappointed. "I suspect that so-called Frost Dragon is nothing more than a legend fabricated by Caelin Von. He used the myth to bolster his prestige and win over those savages. A clever tactic."
Larfa said nothing, but she felt things weren't that simple. Why would someone go to such great lengths to delay them for just an ordinary Tyranid outpost? Furthermore, that cold psychic aura felt slightly different from the typical Tyranid presence she had encountered before.
However, she had no evidence. More importantly, Tyranid infiltration in Hive Worlds was common. Almost every Hive contained some degree of Tyranid vanguard forces—the Genestealer Cults. In the early stages of hiding, they would even help maintain Imperial order to increase production efficiency. This was why many Governors chose to turn a blind eye to them.
"Let's go," Dominic said. "We're heading back."
Aren't we going to investigate further? Larfa asked via sign language.
"Investigate what?" Dominic smiled. "Even if we figure it all out, what then? Root out every single bug? Or claim Caelin Von mismanaged the planet and gave them an opening? Caelin Von is a good Governor. He manages Brevis well and can hold back the Orks. As for the Genestealers, as long as they don't cause trouble, we'll leave them be for now. I'll mention it to him later and let him clean it up at his own pace."
Dominic paused before continuing, "Besides, we have more important things to do. The Tithe hasn't been collected, and the fleet is still under repair. There's no need to stick our noses into extra trouble right now."
Larfa looked at him and nodded. She understood Dominic's point. In this dark age, compromises were often a necessity.
The group emerged from the underground cavern. The guards outside immediately surrounded them.
"My Lord, how was it? Did you find the Frost Dragon?"
"There is no Frost Dragon," Dominic shook his head. "Inside was just an abandoned Tyranid experimental nesting site."
"Tyranids?!" The guards' faces paled.
"Don't be nervous," Dominic waved them off. "It's been abandoned for a long time. There's no danger. Pass the order: pack up. We're returning to the starport."
"Yes, My Lord!"
As the hunting party's silhouettes disappeared at the foot of the Twin Peaks, Sorin's figure slowly materialized behind a distant ice crag. She watched the departing group and let out a sigh of relief. She raised her wrist and pressed a button on her communicator.
"Mission accomplished. They discovered the hidden underground cavern, but they are returning directly to the starport now."
"Thank you, Sorin," Raynor's voice came through the communicator, sounding greatly relieved.
Sorin said nothing. She switched off the device, and her figure blended back into the darkness.
In the Governor's Palace, Raynor leaned back in his chair with a long exhale. His heart had jumped into his throat when he first heard they found the hidden cave. Only now, knowing they were retreating without further action, did he finally relax.
A Ripper poked its head out from his sleeve: "Are we safe now?"
"We're safe," Raynor smiled, reaching out to rub its small head.
It seemed Dominic had simply dismissed the underground lab as a mundane Tyranid nest. Upon reflection, Raynor realized it made sense—a Tyranid nest in a Hive world was hardly unheard of. Who would immediately guess there was a secret pact between him and the Swarm?
However, as long as Dominic remained on Brevis, the risk of exposure remained. He needed to find a way to make him leave as soon as possible.
Early the next morning.
In the VIP guest house near the starport, Dominic sat at his desk, boredly polishing a pair of fresh Brevis Bison horns. Though the trip to the ice plains hadn't yielded a Frost Dragon, it wasn't a total loss. At least he knew about the Genestealer infiltration. Plus, the fight with the Orks and the bison stampede had satisfied his craving for action.
But now, he was bored again. Fleet repairs would take another two weeks, and the Tithe matters were temporarily stalled. He truly didn't know what to do with himself.
Just then, a guard's voice came from outside: "My Lord, Governor Caelin Von requests an audience."
"Caelin Von?" Dominic looked up, his eyes brightening. "Let him in."
Raynor soon pushed the door open and stepped inside. He was dressed in a standard blue-grey Governor's uniform, his expression grave.
"Lord Dominic," Raynor said, getting straight to the point. "I have a piece of very important news to tell you."
"What news?" Dominic asked.
Raynor took a deep breath and relayed the intelligence he had just received from Lena: "The Ork Warlord of Dorido, Ragnar 'Great-Gut,' is gathering his forces. A massive fleet with more than a dozen capital ships and hundreds of millions of Orks has already set sail from Dorido. Their target is Karl-2!"
Dominic's hand, which had been polishing the horns, stopped. He looked up at Raynor , his voice laced with... was that excitement?
"What did you say? Hundreds of millions of Orks? Over a hundred warships?"
"Yes," Raynor nodded solemnly. "And according to our intel, Ragnar himself is leading the expedition."
"Are you certain the intel is accurate?"
"Positive."
Dominic stood up abruptly and walked to the window, gazing at the starlit sky outside. In his eyes, a flicker of hungry longing began to burn.