Warhammer: Start with a dog.
Chapter 536 It's getting better! Right?
Chapter 536 It's getting better! Right?
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When Ursaka E. Creed was just dug out of the ruins of the headquarters by his loyal flag-bearing sergeant Garlan Kyle, the current nominal supreme commander of Cadia did not seem to be in a particularly bad condition. At least Kyle did not see too much blood or too many open wounds on him, but he did not look particularly good either.
The sergeant looked worriedly at the man he had followed since he was a simple lowly soldier and was sure that he would eventually achieve something great.
Creed sat up from the stretcher, looking exhausted, with dry lips. The consequences of days of lack of sleep and concentrating a lot of energy on thinking with only more Amasek and cigars to refresh himself were showing on his face in the form of haggardness and collapsed face.
"I'm fine," he muttered. "Luckily the desk was sturdy enough to block it."
Kyle supported him carefully and brushed the dust off his uniform coat. The High Lord had two scratches on his head, and black and red blood mixed with dust left grooves on his face, but the sergeant was horrified to find that his old superior was smiling at him, even showing his teeth and gums.
Did he get hit on the head and something went wrong with his brain?
The thought crossed Kyle's mind and made his stomach tighten.
"Although I always think that prayer is useless and is not as effective as a purgatory pistol in battle, Kyle, but today I can sincerely thank the Emperor on the throne once."
The sergeant wanted to remind the High Lord of his current identity and not to make those remarks that he used to love so much when he was a mid-level officer, such as that the people have to rely on themselves and that the God-Emperor is useless. But he saw something in Creed's shining eyes, and Kyle suddenly turned around and raised his head to look in the direction Creed was looking.
He saw a glittering golden light rising from the west.
He saw the living saint's glorious white wings, and the nuns flying with her surrounded her. The defenders, whose morale was already a little low, shouted in ecstasy, prayed devoutly to the girl of miracles with a halo behind her head among the white wings, and raised their weapons, shouting and attacking the black army enemies that outnumbered them.
"Help me up!" Creed's re-energized voice brought the sergeant back to his senses. "Wash your face. We still have a lot to do! First, reconnect all the communications in the four directions and find us a new headquarters that's safe. Kyle, let me think. Tell me, are those damn Black Templars still guarding the southern city wall?"
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"Too many." After reuniting the temple in the west and the armored corps brought by Dantioch in the south, Mercury frowned and looked down at the dynamics on the simple sand table in front of him.
"The enemy is still too numerous. The Imperial Navy fleet in orbit is completely at a disadvantage. There are a large number of traitor corps gathered here on the ground. The reinforcements from other continents have all been divided and surrounded, and cannot provide effective support here. At the same time, Abaddon's fleet is still continuously airdropping their reinforcements to the ground. Even if we calculate now, the manpower we can mobilize is still too small."
His amber eyes turned to Honso, where the Master Potion Master was whispering with Barabas over the unconscious body of Black Templar Marshal Amaleki, who was acting as a makeshift operating table in front of them. It was obvious that they had reached an agreement on something that made both Iron Warriors happy.
For some reason, Honsou, who had always been subtle about other veteran Iron Warriors, unexpectedly hit it off with Barabas Dantioch. Of course, Robert Mercury Guilliman himself was very happy to meet an old friend in a foreign land after nine thousand years.
However, on the way here, Barabas had urgently explained to them some of his current situation, which made Guilliman still feel a little awkward - never mind, at this moment and here, in the dream fragments where Noa space and reality overlap, nothing is impossible here. Besides, the Barabas in his memory was so old and weak, and fell into indelible pain because of certain well-known facts. Now he has been reshaped into such a strong, powerful, confident and hopeful existence for Perturabo. He also felt sincere joy for the war blacksmith to regain the glory he had lost.
Well, it's a pity. If this is the case, the Warsmith will only choose to return to his Gene Father, and his own Ultramar world will regrettably lose an excellent master of architecture and defense engineering...
"Yes, there are a lot, but my armored forces can effectively block the south and part of the southwest." Dantioch walked over, and Guilliman noticed that he still covered his iconic iron mask with his helmet, otherwise he would not have failed to recognize this heroic war blacksmith who guarded the lighthouse of the Empire in the Battle of Sotha.
"Is that OK? The south is obviously the main attack direction of Abaddon's ground forces. The airdrop bays of the Black Expeditionary Fleet, the lunatics of Abaddon's Hounds Warband, the Word Bearers wizards - oh, this can be crossed out. Hong Suo and I should have made these Lorgar's cubs bleed enough here -"
"Yes." The warsmith's tone had a confidence rarely heard in any Imperial warrior. It was not dedication, self-sacrifice, or fanatical belief. Guilliman felt that it was closer to the high confidence of the warriors before going out to battle that he had heard in his youth when he was conquering the mortal realm. "The possibility of stealing from the demons here has long been deduced on my father's war chess sandbox," said Dantioch. "My loyal descendants and court guards have been waiting for this under the rock for nine thousand years as a reserve. Our automatic maintenance system has never stopped during these nine thousand years, and the Gene-Father did not disappoint us. The dimensional blacksmiths and warbands of Chrom Gate awakened us, provided us with coordinates and identities, and the Primarch's personal pharmacist Honso brought us the last piece of our war puzzle. Everything is ready. Today, let these traitors see how the glorious Fourth Legion's proud artillery salvos and steel roars can turn our enemies into ashes!"
"Very good, then I'll leave it to you. If you have the energy to spare, perhaps you could take care of the east side?"
"Okay." A strange green light flashed in the helmet of the warsmith, and then he completed his assessment. "The signal from the east shows that only a group of knights called the 'Raven' family is resisting the Vulcan Titan Legion... They are indeed trying their best. If the battle in the south goes well, I will send a team of Brutal Blades and Typhon to support them from the side."
"Since your Iron Guard and Unbroken Covenant brought so many vehicles in disguise, do you have any additional air units?" Guilliman asked. "According to my observation, these idiots in the Clave Fortress foolishly assembled all the fighters and bombers during Abaddon's first wave of airdrops. As a result, the airport here is unable to effectively protect them. They lost 80% of their troops on the first day. It was extremely stupid! This means that all defenders will lack air support." "Uh, this." Dantioch hesitated a little. "Yes, sir, but these vehicles can only be driven by our pilots themselves and cannot be provided to friendly forces. Moreover, their shapes are not like heavy vehicles. The shapes of these aircraft are not very suitable for friendly forces to observe closely." He looked at Guilliman and added, "The measures taken by these aircraft to protect the pilots are just for show. And they cannot provide effective support by avoiding attacks from both sides at the same time."
"Oh." Guilliman also remembered what kind of body they were in now, and there was an awkward silence between the two. At this moment, Saint Celestine had completed her first manifestation of inspiration and combat work, flapping her wings and falling from the sky with the smell of white doves, roses and incense. The strange hymns lingered in the air, and a golden halo flickered behind her head. Mercury wrinkled his nose.
"Do you really have to follow this pomp and circumstance? Do you have to make mortals obsessed with you instead of listening to more rational voices?" The Thirteenth Primarch, wearing the appearance of a Chaos Champion, expressed his true opinion. "Except that your appearance is more in line with mortals' preference for beautiful things and religious fantasies, I don't think you are much different from Urkanthos."
The Living Saint's resolute and beautiful face was filled with a calm and soothing expression. "This is the power of faith bestowed upon me by the great power of the Great Emperor. I will follow His will and play my due role wherever I am needed. That's all."
Of the two great nuns beside her, the more stable and capable Eleanor had been sent out to urgently integrate the remaining forces in the Temple of Santa Molica, and would be brought here to serve. Genevieve stood aside with her face twitching constantly at the peaceful conversation between the living saint and the saint with the appearance of a demon lord, but she did not raise any more objections. Apart from being too gentle and tactful in her attitude towards this mysterious saint, Saint Celestine was ruthless in killing the enemies of the Emperor - she had already fought a round with the living saint and witnessed with her own eyes how those demons, heretics and aliens were reduced to ashes under her holy blade of light, just as she had imagined.
But she was not good at speaking. The noble living saint was treated so coldly and ridiculed, but Genevieve didn't know how to respond appropriately. Damn it, if only Eleanor was here!
"Well... at least she can fly, and the mortals here trust her. What we lack most now is command and trust. Why not let her do what she should do? I think she is suitable to be the rapid liaison officer, patron and flag bearer. With her guaranteeing them on the city wall, at least Barabas's iron torrents don't have to worry about the shells flying behind them."
Hong Suo came over after wiping his gauntlets. On the simple operating table behind him, Marshal Amaritch had just been carried away, and now a new Black Templar was carried in. He held a communication rosary engraved with a cross in his hand. "I received a call from the headquarters in Clough Castle calling on the Black Templar. They said that the defenders are planning to shrink their defense formation to the first city wall, and require all the defenders outside to abandon all external bastions, plains and fortresses and gather towards Clough Castle."
Guilliman nodded, and Genevieve found it hard not to notice his graceful demonic horns, their white-gold tips peeking out from the black. "This commander is wise to make this judgment at this moment. After all, the difference in numbers between the defenders and the attackers is too great for a while, and there is not even enough time to inflict timely casualties between the bastion and the plains. The situation may improve after the Phalanx and other ships begin to attack the Eternal Will and other traitor ships in orbit. Strange, this commander does not seem like the kind of person who would take it for granted and let the air fleet fall into chaos... Oh, damn, I guessed it. I can't believe it. I thought such an important fortress world would at least meet the requirements of enforcing orders."
"In fact, this situation is rare, sir. Often our attacks will cleverly take advantage of the internal opposition of the emperor... the opponent." Hong Suo said, "The Black Templars will be ready in about 22 minutes."
"How can it be so fast?" Guilliman looked at the Master Potion Master with a little surprise. "The Master Potion Master's brainwashing operation can now be so simple, fast and effective? There won't be any side effects or sequelae, right?"
"Don't worry, sir." The master of the potion was very proud. "With the help of the little creatures brought by Barabas, we can completely control the bodies of these Black Templars. I guarantee that even if you ask them to use explosive bombs to the west, they dare not use chain swords to the east."
"... Honso, assure me that these battlefield surgeries of yours will not cause any serious psychological and physiological sequelae or impact on these sons of Dorne. I always feel that this is not appropriate, but it is too late to convince them now. We need more forces that can be immediately deployed in battle. I will explain it to them in person afterwards." Guilliman's face covered with scriptures looked so solemn and serious.
"It's sad, sir. I thought we had a friendship of traveling together in the universe. Perhaps I could hope that I had some tacit understanding and trust with you. (Mercuris once again showed an expression of "How could Perturabo have a son like you") - Of course, I swear in the name of my father that this temporary brainwashing measure will not cause any serious sequelae and impact on them." Hong Suo smiled, "After all, it is more humane than the traditional way of the empire -"
A volley of explosive shells exploded in a series of sparks around them, and the Potion Master's armor responded automatically, opening a space between him and the operating table.
"What's going on?" Guilliman said angrily, while Genevieve had already risen into the sky, holding her weapon tightly and observing the situation in the distance.
Then the elder sister came down with an indescribable expression.
"It's... the Space Wolves," she said. "The Great Company of the Iron Wolves, if I'm not mistaken. They're forming an ambush formation."
"Why are the Space Wolves here? Aren't they in the North..." Guilliman paused, and he and Honsou looked at Dantioch.
"Oh." The former Trident, the warsmith who had once shot a straight ball at the Primarch under Perturabo and survived unscathed, had his eyepiece flashing and spread his hands. "I just shook them off at the time, but it seems that my wolf nose was too sharp. Since I have never betrayed, of course I can't shoot at friendly forces, right?"
(End of this chapter)
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