Warhammer: Start with a dog.

Chapter 495: Sword of Damocles
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"I have to say, dear Hong Suo, although I am grateful for your trust in letting me lead the other fleets to return first. But."

Nosa Atasya pursed his red lips. The swordsman had replaced his tight leather suit with a solemn one today. The color was purple-red with gold trim. Yes, it was very close to the color of Phoenician purple, but of all the people here, perhaps only Hong Suo could see that this was just a tried imitation and not the original.

"but?"

"But before I leave, seeing your current stalemate makes my sword and legs itch. I really want to jump down and make a decapitation attack or something like that."

"This is not your business." The War Blacksmith's voice was cold and calm. "Do the task I assign to you well, and next time I will provide you with better combat potions, more equipment, and better entertainment supplies."

"It's a tempting proposal." Atasia smiled, his smile becoming more obvious, "But it's still just an empty promise. I really want to jump in and lead my team to enjoy the feeling of bathing in the blood of Ultramar, huh?"

"Don't even think about it. Unless you accept my offer and replace all that shit you're wearing with power armor."

"Power armor is too stuffy, darling. It's going to suffocate me."

"Is your leather jacket breathable? Shut up and do your work, or I'll pluck out your eyes and tongue and stuff them into the iron coffin of Fearless next time."

"Oh, that sounds quite exciting. At least it's not a hell beast." The sword master grinned, "But the battle potion you provided us is really good, with perfect excitement and sensitivity... Your hormone regulation technique is also very good, just like when we were regularly checked by the biological laboratory on Terra... My mind has never been so clear in centuries, and my sword-holding hand has never been so stable... But when I look up, the front of me has never been so empty and void, this is... a brand new experience, this is the key to making me agree to your proposal, you know?"

“Of course I know what I made myself.”

"Then you know that it is impossible to win with the way you are using your army and power now?" The Dark Champion of Slaanesh laughed softly, "Indeed, as a Chaos Lord, you have given us, your subordinates, unlimited pleasure. You are very qualified. Everyone who has ever wanted to lead or unite us would give us a lot of drugs and toys to make us indulge in wonderful pleasures, but only you."

He tilted his head. "Only you, you kept my mind clear while giving me drugs, forcing me to stay in a reality that I couldn't ignore, even though you claimed that this was so that I could become one of your few helpers and lead the rest of your army when you were too busy with Vannus and Grendel—"

The Emperor's Child seemed to narrow his eyes under his mask. "But this also makes me see clearly that you deliberately let the Berserkers die, mixed biological products into the pirates' rum, and tampered with the promethium you provided to Tark. Honso, my dear, I can feel that even Wannus, who is also a waiter, has never really turned to the palace of the Prince of Pleasure, and Grendel's bloody killing has flowed to an unknown distance. You are different from the Blackheart King. Although he is still struggling, he is already terminally ill, and the source of your power has nothing to do with any of the gods in the High Heaven. If you didn't have a group of real Iron Warriors under your command, I would think that you are a pseudo-emperor's lackey who was mixed into the Great Vortex as a spy."

"Kill the false emperor and burn the galaxy. The corpse of the throne is full of lies!" The Warsmith answered without hesitation, "We will sacrifice everything at the feet of the King of Steel! Do not insult me ​​or yourself, Nosa Aetasia, wait until we finish the battle at hand before discussing other matters."

"Hmm~~So maybe you are a lackey, but not of the false emperor, nor of Huron. Does Tyrant Badab know that you think so?"

"Whatever you say, you should get ready to set off. Remember to take care of the others on the way and wait for me to return to the Maelstrom with the spoils." The Warsmith had no intention of talking to him any more. Vannus was carefully destroying all the weapon control and military lines he could find inside the Indomitable, while Grendel was sent to keep an eye on the Iron Warriors that were dropped down.

Before setting off, Hong Suo told the champion who loved fighting more than commanding, "How many Iron Warriors you can bring back for your father depends on how far you can retreat before I open fire." So now, although the chief of arms, who always had complaints about Hong Suo's mixed blood, now knows the importance of things, he has to distract himself and go back to his old job in between the killings, and begin to command his squad with every move precise to the second, just like he did ten thousand years ago.

Artasia elegantly crossed his booted legs on his bridge throne. "You are a dull stone, Warsmith, but why are you so confident and trustful of me?"

His pale blue eyes turned to the swordsmanship master who was vaguely visible in the communication screen. "The fact that you came to talk to me so much before the fleet set out shows your inclination, doesn't it? I chose you from all the lords, gave you the most precious potions and care, and gave you a bright mind that was free of toxins. Guess why?"

The Emperor's Children warrior smiled beneath his golden leather mask, carved into the shape of a man's face howling in agony.

"Resolving one mystery about you will reveal another. Warsmith, but mysteries are fascinating. Final advice: If you really want to use all tactics instead of sticking to the rules as you say, then as the son of... another primarch, I will tell you that the current situation is suitable for you to swing the sword of Damocles, take advantage of the opportunity, and succeed in one blow."

The communication was cut off. In the scanning array, the light spots representing the fleet were quietly leaving one after another under the rebuke of Atasiya and his sword dancers. Hong Suo frowned and re-examined the entire battle situation. Countless data, formulas and calculation results were rearranged in three-dimensional space. Calculating again and again, his brain simulated hundreds of thousands of battle trajectories and final results. The battle situation near the entire star fortress was being built up in three dimensions in his mind.

The iron warrior hidden in his blood is rejoicing, as this mode of warfare is exactly what suits his gene seed. Every front, whether it is an attack or a retreat, has its purpose. The position and angle of each artillery piece are precisely calculated to break the corresponding target, and every seemingly futile death will have its corresponding value. Strict discipline cannot help soldiers survive every time, but it will ultimately help the strategist win. The battle itself is its meaning.

Aitasia was actually right. From the very beginning, due to the chaos and low organization of the troops he had at his disposal, Hong Suo's plan was not 100% likely to succeed. He was just betting that he could complete the plan without using those potions as a last resort. But what exactly was the swordsmanship master trying to remind him of with this farewell message?

At this moment, he really hated these Emperor's children who always liked to make everything too dramatic.

The bombardment and attack on the dock area continued. According to the report sent back by Grendel, the mechanical warlord basically had no strategy or tactics in his mind. He had been able to advance so far entirely because his forge ships had created enough Chaos machines and slaves for him. They rushed forward fearlessly regardless of the cost - mechanical control was so convenient. It was a pity that Worther Tucker was not an expert in scrap code intrusion, otherwise Hong Suo would have given priority to letting him hack into the command system of the star fortress to paralyze their automatic firepower and defense devices, so that the war blacksmiths' ships circling the periphery could gain more attack positions from above...

……Wait.

above.

His eyes rolled slightly, and a picture of the current situation above the star fortress was enlarged from countless charts.

Above the Indomitable was one of the largest ships in his fleet that was doing nothing. It was the Corrupted Claw, which was firing some shells in vain from a distance because it did not dare to get too close to the defensive firepower circle and could not break the shield of the central command tower. This was a ship that once belonged to the Imperial Navy, with a straight and long hull and a pointed bow, but now it has been contaminated. Its level is displayed as Apostate in the fleet. Hong Suo hurriedly checked its code and other information. Very good, this is not the ship of the Black Mechanicus warlord, and there are no such protection measures, so it is much easier to hack into its console...

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Now Orlanto met the Inquisitor again in the Command Center.

She was wearing a full set of feedback armor, with her pistol and sword hanging at her waist within easy reach. Elder Artorion stood beside her, resuming his command position.

"What's the situation?" This well-trained member of the Inquisition seemed a little anxious for the first time since he boarded the fortress. "Has the front line been closed? I saw the commander returned with traces of battle."

Not far behind her, Technical Sergeant Hestian was connecting himself to the entire star fortress's defense database. Dozens of cables of varying thickness extended from the interfaces on the top, back and sides of his skull, as well as more interfaces on his spine, arms and back, extending into the shadow of the huge multiple thinkers behind him. He closed his eyes, his eyeballs flipped rapidly, and muttered some coded instructions or other more binary words. As countless instructions were issued, hot steam rose from his head and sweat dripped onto the ground around him. Two servants in blue and gold uniforms were constantly wiping his sweat, replenishing his fluids and cooling him down.

Following Orlanto's gaze, the Inquisitor frowned at the Tech-Sergeant, "He had a hard time holding up during the attack just now." She said succinctly, "It's still a bit difficult for one person to control and support such a large fortress under all-round attack. And he had to keep switching lines because someone was destroying the communication here. I'm surprised that you didn't place additional redundant Tech-Priests or officers here, but considering the mission I was sent here to perform, it's understandable that the Tech-Priest is not trusted."

Oranto didn't like what the Inquisitor kept implying in her words, but he still chose to answer her questions first.

"Yes, there is a hole in the wall between the fourth quadrant and the first quadrant, and part of it has collapsed. We must gather the troops in this area."

"Is the loss great? Several officers under my command have called but no one responded."

"Quite a lot." The sergeant, covered in dust and cracks, nodded, "But it's still within an acceptable range. Priest brother Sabatina is rearranging it there..."

Hestiaan cried out in surprise and Artorion turned around with a roar, "What happened?! Lucian! We must hold the Arctic Fortress! Until Master Calgar returns!"

The Inquisitor glanced at Oranto, and even though she said nothing, the Ultramarines veteran knew what she meant: did the problems posed by Brother Altorion's age really make him qualified for the position of commander?

He cleared his throat. "Yes, Brother Artorion. The fortress must be defended. But we have found traces of saboteurs in the rear. I suggest organizing a team..."

A series of sparks caused by the fault flew rapidly along a cable, and the smell of burnt flesh rose. Hestiaan screamed even more sharply. The servants hurriedly wiped the wires for him and replaced them with spare wires. The technical sergeant painfully warned his comrades with his vocal cords, "Enemy ships are attacking!"

"Details!" Artorion roared, striding to the control console, "Where is the weapon array on top?!"

"The automatic turrets and torpedo systems are ready... We can definitely destroy it. After all, it's so close." Hestiaan made a warning beep as if the line was cut. He frowned and switched to another intact line, "But it's too close..."

"What does he mean?" asked the Inquisitor.

Oranto stared with wide eyes at the battleship, which was under the first round of fire from artillery and torpedoes, and slowly began to adjust its posture above the most intense battle zone while firing.

"No——!" He roared, not caring to comfort Artorion who was also yelling at the imaginary alien enemy, "Hestion! Tell everyone to evacuate immediately! Find shelter! Top level!!! Think of a solution!!!"

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The star fort guards who were struggling to resist the mechanical warlords, alien hunters, the last berserkers and the pirates who were unwilling to leave all received an emergency notice, but at this moment they could see it even without the notice.

A five thousand foot long ship was now advancing vertically, headfirst, toward the engagement zone between the two quadrants of the Indomitable Star Fortress. Although defensive artillery fire had destroyed its shields and bow and started burning, its falling momentum could no longer be contained - the Indomitable's artificial gravity core was still functioning normally, which would only add the energy of the fall of this enormous weapon to the acceleration of gravity.

The broken pieces and sparks from the hull were like the edges of fireworks, and as the final crash began, the most important and terrifying part of a void ship was stabbed like a sword into the entire southern area and the central junction of the Indomitable.

The blade fell.

The plasma core in the ship's reactor broke free of its restraining field.

Everything was enveloped in overwhelming white flames.

(End of this chapter)