No sooner said than done. Following his less-than-pleasant conversation with Rogal Dorn, Perturabo Rurik Kislevsky began his planning. This was, after all, the reason he had come.
As was standard for him, the Iron Tsar's plan was infused with the tactical wisdom and personal flair characteristic of the Fourth Legion. Creeping barrages—this was the core of Perturabo's unadorned war plan. Everything else was merely a secondary detail intended to ensure the smooth execution of a battle where the Fourth Legion would act as the primary hammer.
Under Dorn's orders, the Imperial Fists on the front lines of the siege handed over their positions to their cousins who had traveled from afar. These weary Imperial Fists withdrew to the rear to begin their much-needed rest and resupply. Even for the post-human Astartes, the intensity of a continuous high-stakes siege was a burden difficult to endure.
The Iron Warriors, clad in their iron-grey power armor, became the force that would end the conflict on this world. Under the command of their gene-father, Perturabo, they stepped into position with absolute confidence, prepared to use the most brutal methods to end the battle in the shortest time possible.
For the defenders holding the fortress, the massive redeployment of the Imperial forces did not escape their notice. A movement involving an entire Legion was impossible to conceal.
However, in the eyes of the defenders, these shifts among the invaders from the sky did nothing to change the stalemate. Though the Imperial forces had successfully breached several outer defensive lines, those were considered expendable.
The ancient fortress at the center remained. Its precipitous geographical location and the exquisite craftsmanship of its construction rendered it an indestructible bastion. Throughout history, every army that had ever besieged this place had eventually retreated due to logistics or other failures. This great fortress had never fallen.
The defenders were fully confident in their ability to outlast the enemy. Even if they could not force the invaders of the "Imperium of Man" to retreat like previous foes, they believed they could hold out long enough to gain leverage at the negotiating table and secure lenient terms for themselves.
Thus, news of Perturabo taking command did not alarm the stubborn resistance. To them, it didn't matter how many commanders were swapped; the fact remained that the Imperium could not take the fortress. They felt they had nothing to fear.
The Iron Tsar, however, would soon use his own methods to prove that these defenders were still pathetically naive.
Outside the City.
Flanked by a guard detail of Iron Warriors and Imperial Fists, Perturabo walked through his newly established positions, observing the enemy fortress from a distance.
Due to the press of military business, Rogal Dorn could not leave his headquarters. Instead, he sent his most trusted confidant, First Captain Sigismund, to act as his representative and lead the Imperial Fists guarding the Iron Tsar.
Perturabo accepted this arrangement readily. After his initial dealings with the Master of the Seventh Legion, Perturabo realized that the rumors concerning Rogal Dorn's personality were entirely accurate, and he had little desire to deal with that "stone" more than necessary.
"I have heard that your Imperial Fists are a force exceptionally skilled in the offensive. Why, then, has this campaign ground down to the point where you require assistance?"
After observing the fortress for a time, the Iron Tsar turned to Sigismund and posed his question.
"Yes, Lord Perturabo. We of the Imperial Fists are indeed an offensive force. Our Legion's name was bestowed by the Emperor himself as recognition of our ability to strike."
"As for why we required aid, it is because we have already broken through several layers of the enemy's defense system. This central fortress, however, is of a difficulty far exceeding those outer lines. The effort has left our ranks weary and our casualties significant."
"Therefore, Lord Dorn issued a request for assistance, hoping for other Imperial forces to alleviate the burden. It was at this juncture that you and your Legion arrived."
Sigismund replied with composed dignity, showing no sign of intimidation despite speaking to a Primarch.
"I see. So, this is a fortress meticulously built and maintained by the locals?"
Perturabo nodded. He was beginning to understand the situation. If he could resolve this fortress—which Dorn had failed to take—with maximum speed, he would gain a certain psychological advantage over his brother. At least, that was how he saw it.
"Correct. Locals loyal to the Imperium have informed us that this fortress has never fallen in their history."
"Previous armies usually abandoned their sieges. This has given the defenders immense confidence; they believe they can outlast us until we are forced to withdraw."
Sigismund continued his explanation, nodding in agreement with Perturabo's assessment.
"Then they are mistaken. I, Perturabo Rurik Kislevsky, shall be the first man in a thousand years to breach these walls! I will destroy their ramparts without hesitation and force them to watch as the city they believe in is reduced to rubble!"
Perturabo roared with ambitious intensity.
"I hope your actions match your words, My Lord. Lord Dorn and I await your good news."
Sigismund displayed no irritation at Perturabo's boastful tone; he merely replied with a calm, steady expression.
Perturabo turned back toward the fortress. He stared at the structure, his eyes searching for flaws in the walls—weaknesses he could exploit.
"Sigismund, do you have the blueprints for the fortress? I imagine those who built this place would have left records. I need them to refine my plan."
Perturabo recalled a detail and looked back at the First Captain.
"These rebels are cunning. They destroyed all copies of the blueprints kept outside the fortress. However, our scouts have mapped the surrounding terrain in detail. I believe you will find that useful."
"Excellent. I have a general concept now. I need to summon my subordinates immediately."
Perturabo raised an eyebrow and spoke with measured confidence. Having observed the fortress, the Iron Tsar's mind—brimming with knowledge and calculated wisdom—had already formulated a way to bring the bastion down.