Warhammer: Start with a dog.

Chapter 490 Which Warmaster are you talking about?
"Slaves are still in short supply... The Pirate Queen's fleet requires more strong liquor, and Tucker's Dark Forge requires all rare metal ingots, including adamantium..."

There, Vannus read over the long list of applications, while studying the warsmith and master alchemist who sat behind a steel laboratory table that served as a desk.

"I see... Although Katya Salongba's swordsmanship is not as good as Atasya's, she is very good at controlling the messy pirates under her command. Well, strong liquor, right? My laboratory will provide some supplements."

In front of Honso's eyes, a beautiful female swordsman appeared. Under her slender limbs, she hid extremely strong and tight muscles. She had snow-white skin, striking violet almond eyes and unusually bright blue long hair. The Pirate Queen's sword often wore the bleeding heart of her admirer on the blade, and the Master of Alchemy personally estimated that she might have a quarter of Eldar blood. "What about the alien mercenaries?"

"The Kroot, Hrud, and Lothart tribes are still in their positions for the time being, and they all seem to be relatively satisfied. From what I have heard, although they did not receive additional equipment and ammunition, the fresh food and supplies they brought back to their families and cubs have satisfied their families, which has reduced the aggressiveness of those main mercenaries."

"Yes, remember to remind me that the Hrud ships should always be placed at the outermost part, but not too obvious - who's next?"

"The Astartes of the various warbands demand..."

There were so many tedious items that needed to be dealt with today in this long and tedious administrative affairs form that even for a strategic planning master like Honso, with the help of an aide-de-camp like Vannas who had office work experience, it still took them a full three standard hours to deal with it, which was frustrating.

"Unspeakable Name and the Lord of Iron," the Warsmith rubbed the corners of his nose as he sat behind his makeshift desk after the last document requesting more human skin rations had been finalized. "I began to understand why the honorable father always looked very tired while the other one was always in a bad temper. Even now, it seems that the Lord of Iron can be called gentle and magnanimous."

"Would you like a drink?" The capture of those fully loaded merchant ships allowed this noisy and chaotic fleet to temporarily obtain good supplies. The open supply of supplies and fresh water boosted the morale, especially that of the non-Astartes soldiers.

The Warsmith nodded and took his cup. "This fermented drink has a very special taste. It reminds me of the days on the Iron Blood. I didn't expect that there is an agricultural world in the Empire that is so good at mixing delicious food. Maybe we will have a chance to make some money there in the future."

"Eighteen thousand warriors and a fleet would be a steal anywhere, but I guess you have other ideas."

"That's right." Hong Suo nodded, drank the mixture of fermented grape juice and some sweet tea in the cup, and put it aside. "First of all, we can't go to a place that may disrupt the timeline, so I searched the coordinate data I have on hand again and found a few coordinates that may be the key points."

"Tell me?"

"The first is Ultra Tarasis, an agricultural world, but its problem is that it has not completely eliminated the threat of the Tyranids, and it has connections with the Ultramarines. The second is Calth, which is also a fertile agricultural world, but the connection with the Ultramarines is even closer. It is their conscription world. Well, although I don't know what happened to the original 'me', it is obvious that 'I' am very eager to take revenge on the Ultramarines."

"Aha. I wonder if 'he' could have foreseen that you would win the Skull Harvest Feast. But I would say that even with 18,000 people, it would be too arrogant for such a rabble to attack the traditional jurisdiction of a founding chapter with a long history. Few people are willing to touch the Five Hundred Worlds of Ultramar."

"Yes, luring them here and fighting a battle doesn't mean much to me now. It will only entertain the audience in the sky. What I need is a base to stay, which can support our stationing and stay until the Great Rift opens. It is best to have a large combat ship that can be controlled and flown independently. In this way, I can not only explain myself when I return to the Great Vortex, but also make myself not appear too dependent on Luft Huron. I went there to do something, but I don't intend to waste myself in his ambitions."

"You're dreaming. The number of large combat ships available for use is limited. Unless you plan to salvage a space wreck..." At this point, Wannas suddenly became alert, "Don't you really want to salvage that kind of thing..."

"Of course not." The Master Potion Master shook his head. "I know very well how dangerous space wrecks are. The Iron Blood was salvaging..." He paused here and looked at the Raven Guard in front of him. "I was there when some space drifting objects were being salvaged. Who knows what will eventually come out of the ruins." He half-jokingly said, "Maybe someone can salvage the Primarch in space."

"This is too far-fetched. If it were me, I would think this is part of a horrible conspiracy. - Who would really pick up one of the twenty Primarchs in the entire universe while flying randomly in space? It seems forced to say it's a coincidence." Adalic Vannus seemed to sneer at this.

"So I finally decided on a direction." The War Blacksmith took out some ancient parchments and maps, as well as some data tablets with new data recorded on them. "Here."

The Shadow Master leaned over to take a look in confusion. "This is an unmarked planet, and it looks like it has danger warning symbols on it. This is not a good thing. You're bringing a fleet here?"

"We have enough resources to get there now, and I don't plan to stay too long. I'm here to look for someone."

"Who? Who is worth the trouble of going here?"

"Someone who can tell me how to find the base I want." The Warsmith narrowed his eyes. "A woman. A seer. She served the Warmaster."

The former Raven Guard paused for a moment, holding the water cup in his hand, and looked at the Warsmith with an inquiring gaze.

"Prophet? Warmaster? Honsou, has your ambition expanded as you suddenly went from being the leader of eighty warriors to being the leader of eighteen thousand?"

Honso smiled. "This is a great wealth and power in the eyes of many people, but if my fathers were to show up at this moment, I would rather hand them over to my fathers and return to my comfortable laboratory."

"Are you serious?" The former Raven Guard's purple eyes flickered in the light. "These are not just soldiers. We have brought their warships and the fleet of priests with dark technology. If they are willing to provide resources, we can continue to produce more terrifying machines and lifeless beings here."

"Why do you always think that I am not sincere?" The Warsmith asked back, his eyes staring straight at the adjutant in front of him like sharp ice blades.

"I lived like that before because that was all I knew since I was born. I wanted to live. I wanted to live and live better than those other bastards who looked down on me. I wanted to prove that my gene seed was no worse than any Iron Warrior, even if it meant plunging the galaxy into flames. What if I let the galaxy burn? I didn't care how many people died to prove that I was the best of all Perturabo's descendants."

His pale blue eyes stared directly at the man who was hovering across from him like a giant black bird. "But I have now truly lived on the second path, and I have been given a better choice. Since the hope of returning is not extinguished, why should I insist on taking the old path that does not make me feel more comfortable? What good is this for me? I have said, Vanus, I only follow the way I want to live, not what anyone else thinks I should do. Yes, I was born in Chaos and grew up surrounded by evil. The highest achievement I have ever achieved is only a war blacksmith of the Iron Warriors. I have blasted open the fortresses of the Empire, destroyed them, killed the defenders and all the Space Marines inside, plundered their gene seeds, captured humans and put them into the flesh factories for hard labor or sacrificed them to the devils - yes, all this evil was done by my own hands, and I have no guilt for it, but now I also don't want to do all this from the bottom of my heart, so what's the problem?"

The Raven Guard's purple irises with fiery gold rings stared at the calm face of the Potion Master, from his slightly black hairline to his light blue eyes, to his taut jawline that was full of the characteristics of the Imperial Fist. "No problem." He finally said, "You are right, you are not bound by your own morality and the rules of the Empire. You can do whatever you want."

"I'm glad we've reached a consensus. But I usually try to avoid upsetting my father." The Master Potion Master nodded to his lieutenant, "Where is Grendel?"

"He should be patrolling the warbands' ships now. He's keen on beating the most troublesome warriors on each large ship until they can't get out of bed, so that the ship can be quiet for a while. Anyway, you can treat them better than others, so they don't hold a grudge too much."

"Tell him not to add to my burden." The pharmacist complained, "Medicine is still extremely scarce! There are some things I can't create out of nothing! We also need to maintain a certain amount of strength to be ready for battle at any time! Oh, call Salomba to me, and tell her that if she still wants something 'exciting', let her navigators issue us a new route map!"

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This is a planet that has no name in any official Imperial records.

But it is not an undiscovered world.

According to the ancient scrolls deciphered by Hong Suo, in the long period of time since the end of the Great Rebellion, adventurous expeditions, survey teams, or colonial fleets have actually discovered this place more than once, but each time, the attempt to land on the ground for investigation ended in crazy mutual slaughter or suicide.

This planet is filled with invisible and endless resentment, trying to devour the life and soul of every ignorant intruder. The remaining survivors finally fled the planet in panic. No one dared to name it. Only ancient logbooks, star maps and the few words on them recorded this place.

Now, Hong Suo and his companions are trekking on the surface of this world where no living person is welcome.

There are no plants or animals visible to the naked eye here. The sand dunes in his medical goggles are lifeless and dull in color, but they are very deadly to the respiratory tract of flesh and blood, because these sharp sands are weathered from larger pieces of sharp gravel, and the stones here are all composed of hard igneous basalt and various forms of silica: the smallest ones form gray crystal grain dunes, the larger ones become a Gobi desert composed of gray crystal fragments all over the ground, and the largest ones form strange surface shapes like flowing molten glass, and when cooled, they solidify and break into strange razor and thorn-like obsidian crystal cliffs and peaks.

"This damn place looks like..."

"It looks like a crystal world that has been burned by a melta cannon or ignited by super-high temperature flames." Hong Suo nodded. "According to my data, this situation may be partly related to the Eldar, but considering who we are looking for, it may also be a matter of humans. Anyway, the potion I asked you to take before departure should have some effect. If anyone feels something is wrong, please tell me in time."

"Are you sure a mortal, an old woman can live alone in a place like this?" Kadaras Grendel tightly grasped his favorite melta pistol, a weapon that had ignited the end of life for more than a thousand different powerful souls. "How could a mortal survive alone in this place? We'd better leave early. It's better to loot any space station of a suitable size."

"But the wind here is indeed unique." Nosa Atasiya strolled in the sandstorm that could cut flesh. He or she was wearing a leather armor that seemed to have no protective effect. The various parts of the leather armor were only connected by black leather straps. Many non-lethal parts of the skin were even exposed to the high-speed sandblasting quartz wind that could peel flesh from bones. A thin layer of spiritual light was beaten by the wind on the surface of his wheat-colored skin, creating ripples. Countless minor bleeding wounds were constantly being created, and disappeared because of Astarte's high-speed recovery ability. "I think today is a good day for sunbathing in the wind."

"Enough, you perverted sissy." Grendel growled, and at the same time spat to the side. As soon as the spit left the protective range of the magical power armor of the master of alchemy, it was immediately shattered and sprayed on the quartz gravel, forming a cloud of white mist and quickly dissipated. "This place is full of the smell of angry revenge, Honso, the air is full of the rich smell of cursed blood, and the ghosts only want to take lives."

"I feel like there's a wild incense in the air that makes people want to hug..."

"Shut up!"

"Well, I appreciate you two livening up our hike, but I think we're almost there."

They were now standing on the top of a hillside, and following the finger that Hong Suo had extended, they saw in the distance a small hill that looked like a stone pyramid built in the oldest ancient times, sitting in a depression in the distance.

But what disturbed Hong Suo's teammates the most was that this hill that looked like an ancient tomb was surrounded by a dry grove of trees.

This scene, which was completely contrary to common sense, made Wannas unable to help but ask.

"Are you sure that the person living inside is the prophet of the Warmaster you are looking for and not something else? After all, her age is completely contrary to common sense of mortals."

"Warmaster? Horus Lupercal?" Grendel frowned. "How old is she then? Ten thousand years old? Is she still human?"

"It's Abaddon, the Great Plunderer. It is said that the Blackstone Fortress was told and guided by this prophet." They began to slide slowly down the sand on the hillside, steadying their bodies. The sand flowed past their sides like water.

"I'm not sure we should come to her and listen to her, Master."

As they finally began to cross the final plain, Grendel complained, "Even though she was a long-lived prophet, Abaddon never succeeded."

(End of this chapter)