This is the bonus chapter for reaching 500 Powerstones.
--
The man flashed a grin. A grin harboring a passion Seranaphy had never once seen on the face of an Imperial bureaucrat.
"We'll take it from here!"
The second he finished speaking.
The second wave of bombardment commenced.
This time, it wasn't blind saturation.
It was precise, tactically coordinated fire support.
The rocket launcher vehicles unleashed their first volley. Four hundred rockets saturated the battlefield, shattering the daemonic charge formations.
The self-propelled artillery followed up with a second wave, specifically prioritizing large targets and dense clusters.
The main guns of the Leman Russ tanks began calling the roll. Every single lascannon or battle cannon round accurately obliterated a Beast of Nurgle or a Plaguebearer.
Under the cover of this bombardment, hundreds of Chimera transports fanned out.
Tens of thousands of PDF soldiers dismounted. Operating in squad and platoon elements, they rapidly constructed new, provisional defensive positions along the exterior perimeter of the wall.
Their movements were far too drilled to be a mere local PDF.
They looked more like... a stringently trained professional standing army.
Watching this unfold, the crimson haze slowly receded from Seranaphy's eyes.
He took a deep breath and keyed his vox.
"Hassan, patch me into their command channel."
A few seconds later, the connection went through.
A calm, young voice crackled over the line.
"This is Major Carlson, Commander of the Aurelian 3rd Composite Brigade. Orders, Lord Blood Angel?"
Seranaphy spoke, his voice carrying a trace of curiosity for the first time.
"Are you... Crimson Dawn? Did you manufacture those… cigarettes?"
There was a pause on the other end, followed by [Paradox Player Not a War Criminal] chuckling.
"It seems our little local specialty has already made its way into the hands of the Champion. How was it? The Cigarette... not a bad smoke, right?"
Seranaphy looked down at the ammo pouches on the belt of his power armor.
Half a pack of Cigarettes was indeed tucked inside, the box printed with crude High Gothic text.
He had wondered how a civil organization on a fringe world could manufacture a tobacco product that even a Primarch found interesting.
Now, he was beginning to understand.
"It is a good smoke," Seranaphy said, before abruptly shifting his tone. "But your combat effectiveness is even better. The local PDF of Aru Hive is only eighty kilometers away, yet they have not shown up even now. You came all the way from Kent Hive, over three hundred kilometers away... and arrived this quickly? Bringing the firepower of a fully equipped armored brigade with you."
He paused. "Care to explain my confusion, Major Carlson?"
After a few seconds of silence on the vox, Major Carlson's voice returned. He was still smiling, but a hint of solemn gravity had crept in.
"The explanation is this, Lord Blood Angel."
"While others were busy fighting for power and wallowing in corruption, we were training an army."
"While others treated civilians as expendable commodities and hive cities as their personal ATMs, we were building schools, hospitals, and manufactorums."
"While others believed they could rule a world with a few Knight mechs and a handful of private retainers..."
He paused, the roar of artillery fire thundering in the background.
"...we were preparing for how to carve a path of survival for thirty billion ordinary people during a Warp invasion. Is that explanation sufficient?"
Seranaphy fell silent.
He looked at the force deploying in the distance. He looked at the PDF soldiers expertly constructing defenses under the cover of artillery fire.
He looked at the tanks and artillery pieces painted with the emblem of Crimson Dawn.
Then, he laughed.
It was the first time he had laughed in twenty-four hours.
"Your answer is more than sufficient," he said, raising his bolter and slamming a fresh magazine home.
"Then, Major Carlson!"
"Let us begin."
"Take these rotting things..."
Seranaphy pulled the trigger, blowing the head off a Nurgling trying to climb through the breach.
"...and stuff them all right back into the cesspit they crawled out of."
--
Standard Terran Year 976.M30, Day 321, 08:18.
Bridge of the Red Tear.
Faint traces of red blood seeped from the edges of the eyepatch covering the Chief Astropath's third eye.
Thirty continuous hours of high-intensity interstellar psychic transmission were draining the old astropath's life force at a visible rate.
Yet, a smile played on his withered lips.
"Commander... the message... is confirmed..."
Azkaellon stood before the astropathic choir altar in his crippled power armor.
"Speak."
"The first message... originates from a border outpost in the Coryphene Sector." The old astropath wheezed, his voice filtering through his rebreather mask. "The Ninth Grand Company... of the Iron Warriors Legion... is en route."
He pulled up the psychic signature decryption data:
[Sender: Iron Warriors 9th Grand Company, aboard the Unbreakable Will.]
[ETA: Within 48 standard hours.]
[Note: Fleet was originally en route to the Segmentum Obscurus for an orbital fortress dismantling operation. Trajectory altered upon receiving Warp contamination alert from this system.]
Azkaellon's pupils contracted slightly.
The Iron Warriors.
The Fourth Legion, sons of the Primarch Perturabo. A Legion renowned for siege warfare, fortress assault, and static defense.
He remembered now. That was the Iron Warriors company originally slated to take over the garrison of Aurelian IV. But due to Sanguinius's intervention, the Blood Angels had assumed the duty instead.
"The second message..." the Chief Astropath continued, "...originates from the Segmentum Ultima... Macragge."
That single word instantly silenced the entire bridge.
"The Ultramarines Legion... has received our distress signal."
The old astropath's voice abruptly rose, carrying a distinct flavor of glory.
"Lord Primarch Roboute Guilliman... will personally lead multiple expeditionary fleets of the Ultramarines Legion... to our aid!"
He paused for breath before continuing. "Furthermore... they are accompanied by... the Iron Hands Legion, who recently departed this system."
"Lord Primarch Ferrus Manus... upon receiving the coordination transmission from Lord Guilliman... has ordered his fleet to turn back."
"The combined fleet of both Legions exceeds eighty warships... Estimated Astartes troop strength... over forty thousand."
"ETA... within 120 standard hours."
A deathly silence hung over the bridge for five long seconds.
Then, the noise erupted.
"The Emperor protects!!!" A young tactical officer screamed, losing all composure and slamming his fist onto his console.
Instantly, cheers erupted like a volcano!
"Two Primarchs! Two!"
"Lord Guilliman! And Lord Ferrus!"
"Father is saved! Aurelian is saved!"
"Blood Angels! Glory forever!"
Azkaellon did not attempt to quell the boiling elation.
Five days.
They only needed to hold out for five more days.
Two Primarchs descending, forty thousand Astartes, eighty warships.
Never mind the contamination in the City of the Holy Anthem and Aru; even if the entire planet slid into the Warp, that force could drag it kicking and screaming right back out!
Ten seconds later, Azkaellon's voice rang out.
"Silence!"
The bridge instantly returned to its deathly quiet.
"Chief Astropath, transmit an encrypted directive to all ground forces immediately."
Azkaellon turned and walked to the tactical hololith. "Contents as follows."
He pulled up the real-time telemetry maps for the City of the Holy Anthem and the Aru Industrial Zone.
"To all sons of the Blood Angels and allied auxiliary forces:"
"Reinforcements confirmed."
"Iron Warriors 9th Grand Company ETA: 48 hours."
"Ultramarines Legion and Iron Hands Legion ETA: 120 hours."
"Primarch Roboute Guilliman and Primarch Ferrus Manus will personally deploy to the theater."
"Effective immediately upon receipt of this directive, the tactical objectives for all combat units are amended!"
Azkaellon swiped his finger across the hololith, replacing every single offensive marker with a defensive one.
"Shift from purge and eradicate to hold and await reinforcements."
"Further advance is no longer required. Destruction of contamination sources is no longer mandatory."
"Your sole objective is to hold your current perimeters, preserve combat effectives, and pin down the heretics."
"I repeat: Pin them down and wait for reinforcements."
"For the Emperor. For Father Sanguinius."
"Hold the line."
--
At the same time. The defense line along the Seventh Arterial of the Upper Hive, City of the Holy Anthem.
Tobias had just cleaved open the skull of a mutated psyker with his chainsword.
Blue-purple brain matter splattered across his master-crafted power armor, sizzling as it burned.
He flicked the gore from the blade and checked his data-slate. His ammunition reserves were glaringly red.
"Captain! Fleet directive! Encrypted priority!" the sergeant's voice trembled with disbelief.
Tobias took the data-slate.
Three seconds later.
This battle-hardened veteran—a man who had personally executed a traitorous planetary governor and butchered his way through Ork WAAAGHs!—felt his eyes redden.
"All units... cease fire."
His voice was hoarse, but as it carried over the company vox-channel, it bore an emotion none of the warriors had ever heard before... sheer relief.
"I repeat, cease fire. Shift to defensive posture. Reinforcements... will arrive."
The news spread across the defensive line like wildfire.
The moment they heard that two Primarchs were personally taking the field, the almost extinguished light deep within everyone's eyes roared back into a blazing inferno.
"For the Emperor!!!"
It was unclear who roared it first.
Then, along the entire perimeter, over a thousand Blood Angels, along with the several thousand surviving Solar Auxilia, bellowed in unison.
–
In the Mid-Hive, Captain of the Fifth Company, Nassir Amit, hacked down a Plaguebearer, his entire body soaked in yellow-green pus and gore. Hearing the relayed message, he grinned, baring his bloodstained teeth.
"Did you hear that, brothers?" He turned to look at the eight hundred-plus warriors who could still stand behind him. "Hold for another five days. In five days, we get to... go home with our honor intact."
--
Special Event This Week!
For every 100 Powerstones this book receives, I'll release 1 bonus chapter! This is a limited-time event, as the rate will go back to 250 Powerstones next week. I'm asking everyone to donate all your Powerstones to this book so that I can drop a bunch of bonus chapters and crack the Top 50 of the Leaderboard (we're around 70 right now). You know what? I won't even promote my Patreon this week!