Warhammer: Start with a dog.

Chapter 541 At this moment, above Cadia -
The Eternal Will of Blackstone Fortress still stands in its original place.

Their astrologer communications officer was connected by countless mechanical iron rods, standing eternally in a pool-like facility. Her brain and the psychic light emerging from it could be seen from the translucent skull cover. Eight cables in different directions extended from the glass cover, connecting to the brains of eight psychics outside the pool. Obviously, this was some kind of signal enhancement device. If the current Master Navigator and Headmistress Ms. Octavia of the Eighth Legion saw this situation, she would definitely think of the nightmare of the mutated navigator she had seen on the ship controlled by the Red Pirates before and shout "Can't you heretics find a drier place for the necessary psychics?"

Now the astrologer was loudly reporting the data observed by the auspex and scanning arrays of other conventional ships of the Black Fleet.

"One o'clock! Three hundred and ninety thousand kilometers away!" she shouted, her voice sharp and penetrating. "Leaping out! Recalculating...confirming identity...It's the Phalanx! It's the Phalanx! It's the Imperial Fleet led by the Phalanx!"

Zarafiton and Defram Koda had already been waiting in front of the Warmaster's throne thanks to the former's foresight and the intelligence chief's notification. At this moment, they hurriedly received the order and went their separate ways: Defram Koda, Lord of Slaanesh, would begin to dispatch part of the Black Expedition Fleet to turn around and start fighting against the Empire's sudden space support, while the rest would continue to use orbital bombardment, light spears and seemingly endless airborne pods to continue to erode the Imperial Resistance Forces that were being divided and surrounded on the three continents of Cadia.

Zarafiston, the representative of Tzeentch, is heading in another direction: he will lead his wizards, cultists and chaos psykers to start a continuous and grand summoning ceremony, continuously deploying the minions of the dark gods to the ground and the ships of the uninvited guests.

Of course, in front of Zarafiston, the line of destiny was still extending or converging along the original path. At most, there were some small lines that deviated too far along the way, but they were so insignificant compared to the Warmaster and his main mission that it was not worth allocating resources and energy to pursue them one by one at this critical juncture.

Even the most perceptive of them, Kacardius Hiron, was the same. Despite the serious warnings given by the intelligence chief, he chose to go down to the lower deck with the Daughter of the Fortress to eliminate the Space Wolves and Cadian warriors who invaded the Blackstone Fortress. After all, only by getting rid of the pests around them could they free up their hands to concentrate on completing the goals on the ground.

The reason why Fort Krave has been the main target of attack since the war began is not because it is the location of the headquarters. Only Abaddon himself knows this best, while Shiron and Zarafeston have each received revelations from the dark gods on this issue - but they are not completely consistent.

Therefore, at present, the situation of the war is still roughly carried out according to the ideas of the agents of the will of the Dark Gods. The Titan Legions, Space Marine Companies and Cadia Internal Guards on the first and third continents of Cadia are still at a "normal level" of resistance, which is good, but the Space Wolves are always a discordant variable.

Xilong thought that the wolf cubs of Russ were always like this, either loyal to the point of death, or unrestrained and causing trouble to others and then dying.

"Have you caught the new 'tongue'?" He asked softly to Mokas, who had her eyes closed and was connecting herself to the Blackstone Fortress through thick warp-distorted flesh.

The latter was sweating profusely, and the black stone ball transplanted under his eyelids was rotating at high speed along with the original purple eye.

“Almost there,” she managed to answer, her hands clawing at something in the void of the demonic flesh wall. The polluted black stone wall gradually lost its luster. “I found a lone... oh, damn,” she said with a frustrated sound, “a fortress slave! I turned my eyes away for a moment! They started eating him!”

The intelligence chief sighed, "Which cabin? Open the passage for me."

The withered black walls squirmed, and after a bunch of dead branch-like blood vessels and nerve networks moved away, gray fleshy gums and pale upper and lower teeth were revealed. Then this tooth door opened in front of them. The teeth even looked human, which made it particularly uncomfortable, but Xilong ignored it. He passed through several newly grown doors and the cabins in between, and arrived at the room that Mokas told him.

There was a group of beast-like or zombie-like fortress slaves here. Shillong drove away these slaves, who only had biological instincts when Mokas was not looking at them, and then found an almost unrecognizable remains on the ground where their dirty feet had stepped.

But the quality of the equipment of the Cadia Internal Guard Corps was really good. The intelligence of these zombies was not enough to deftly open the helmet buckles on the fallen heads. They just used their skinny fingers to reach in and dig and eat from anywhere they could, so the poor guy's brain was basically intact.

Alpha opened the buckle without emotion, pulled out his combat knife, carefully removed the corresponding brain tissue, and chewed it carefully in his mouth for a while - although he faithfully provided intelligence services to the Warmaster, his gene seed remained intact and pure under years of high-intensity subspace radiation. In other words, he retained all the organs available to loyalists, which allowed him to still read part of the brain owner's memory by tasting the brain tissue.

"Space Wolf... Uh..." Xilong opened his eyes suddenly, "Damn it, this is still a bait! Mokas! Can you hear me?! The east has been ruled out! This place is also ruled out! Search in the west direction! Now! Prepare your fortress slaves and activated rooms, drive our prey from above and the west to the empty room. Abaddon's hounds have all been deployed to the ground, we have to complete the pest control work ourselves."

A new door of flesh and teeth appeared and opened in front of Alpha. He drew his gun and stepped in. Then the teeth closed and the door disappeared into the darkness again.

Although wild wolves are cunning and ferocious, the fangs of poisonous snakes lurking in the shadows will be particularly deadly to wild wolves.

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mountain fortress
now
Over Cadia

"Successfully disengaged!" The voice of the navigator chief came calmly from the gilded eagle head loudspeaker on the bridge, "The coordinates are being determined. We are now at the forefront of the entire fleet. It is estimated that there are still ninety seconds before we engage the enemy." "Very good, are the masters of the auspicious instrument and the weapons supervisors in place? Open fire after calibration. Navigator and engine room, make sure to allocate enough power to our frontal shield. Don't rush, advance slowly, and make sure we can reach the front line and cover the target point from above."

There was a uniform response from below. Danat Lysander, wearing a full set of Terminator armor, nodded, while Thor Galadon beside him seemed to be hesitant to speak.

"Do you think this is a good idea?"

Although this decision had been made by Lysander long before the Phalanx's Astronomican Choir received the fragmented distress signals from Cadia and decided to organize a fleet to rush to Cadia, and as the former chapter master, Vladimir Pugh, who had entered the Dreadnought, also supported his decision, not to mention that Chief Think Tank Haldor Mason unexpectedly vigorously promoted Lysander's various resolutions regarding their trip - as if Mason had received some revelation - it was a pity that Haldor's mouth was tighter than anyone else. Except Pugh, no one knew the specific content of the omen that the Chief Think Tank had obtained after kneeling sincerely in front of the Pillar of Bones and his father's now empty shrine for seven days and seven nights. It's just that Mason now has a faint regretful look every time he sees Galadon, which makes the new third captain very uneasy.

However, Lysander's decision proved to be very far-sighted in the subsequent series of events, and all the captains were pleasantly surprised to find that this captain, who was once the embodiment of the dedication and sacrifice of the sons of Dorne - the current acting chapter master - yes, Lysander finally used this method to avoid his gorgeous and grand inauguration ceremony, of course, thanks to the timely and helpful help of an old friend - now has become humble, peaceful, compassionate and understanding in his daily life, and his terrible anger that amazed his comrades was only directed at the enemies of the empire.

So much so that the captains who were most dissatisfied with him now began to think that perhaps Lysander's personal heroism and extreme obsession with classical personal glory and victory, which were admired by ordinary monks and young officers in the past but sometimes made senior officers frown, were either because he was too young or because of some sequelae of a thousand years of warp travel and fighting. Now that he has solved this problem, he only needs to continue to hone his skills in this acting position for a few decades, and they will be able to happily announce at the next Blade Feast that the Imperial Fists have finally welcomed a true leader who has the potential to revive the chapter.

"There's nothing wrong with this idea, don't worry, Galadon." Lysander turned his head. He now had a neat short gray hair and a neatly trimmed beard on his chin. The smell of sacred incense and mechanical maintenance ointment wafted from him. He smelled like a ceremonial priest who had just attended a ceremony or a parade for social needs.

Galadon subconsciously turned his eyes away - really, he had never realized that Lysander's behavior would make him feel both pleasing and terrified: he always felt that something in Lysander's essence had been permanently changed, but he couldn't say what it was. Although this change was beneficial to Lysander himself and the entire chapter at the moment, Galadon still felt very uneasy.

"I'm not saying that there's anything wrong with you insisting on having the First, Third, and Seventh Companies stay on the mountain formation this time, because the facts before our eyes have already proven your caution and foresight..."

"Are you saying that we shouldn't let our captives take the lead?" Lysander's eyebrow moved up slightly by 0.1 centimeters. Although it was very subtle, Galadon noticed it. From his recent observations, this meant that Lysander was in a good mood and relaxed. - But should he feel this way about such behavior?
"Yes." The captain chose his words carefully. "Although we do need more Vanguard airdrops, the more the better. And I'm not saying that we shouldn't punish our enemies, nor that the traitors of the Empire shouldn't atone for their crimes, but it's still a bit..." He searched for the right words, "a bit unbelievable for the Imperial Fists to use Iron Warriors as vanguards."

"There are many incredible things in this universe, Thor." Lysander's gaze suddenly became vague and distant, "But Dorn is in my heart... the holy father guides my every word and action. I will not do anything against Dorn's will." The power conveyed in his words was so firm and confident that the third captain was silent for a moment.

Ripples appeared outside the huge void field of the Phalanx. As the distance got closer, the main guns of the Black Legion ship with the longest range were already test-firing, but the ancient fortress of the Imperial Fists remained motionless. The condition of the chapter's home monastery was now much better than before, which was a sign that Lysander was regarded as a man of revival: many hidden mechanical secret doors and warehouses were seen after he agreed to take over as acting chapter master, and the chapter's technical sergeants were pleasantly surprised to find many spare parts that were well sealed with ancient holy ointment and parchment and had hardly oxidized. These spare parts cannot even be produced on the Forge World of Mars (openly), and the Mechanicus priests who rushed here after hearing the news paid a very high repair cost to obtain a few samples.

"But I heard that you have just ordered the return of their power armor and weapons and equipment," Galadon said disapprovingly, "What if they defect immediately after landing? These Iron Warriors... I don't trust them. How can you be sure that they will fight alongside us instead of shooting our precious battle-brothers in the back?"

"To form an effective fighting force, are we going to let them attack with their bare hands, teeth and fists? What a shameful waste of Space Marine manpower, Thor."

"It's still a question of trust. I still can't trust them, Lysander, and I don't understand why Pew, Mason, and especially you, can so easily believe that they will surrender so easily and agree to atone for their past crimes." Galadon pressed his lips into a firm straight line, "I can't trust them, just as Dorne can't trust his betrayed brother."

"Have you discussed this with the priests? Perhaps Reverend Shadras would be a good listener." Lysander stared at the explosions of various colors gradually blooming in the porthole in front of him. "But perhaps we can discuss your concerns after this battle. Now, it's time for you to take command of the Phalanx in my place."

"What... me?"

"Yes, I believe that no other Imperial Fist brother can do a better job than you in this matter. Thor, I place my trust in you." Lysander said as he walked down to the command deck. "Assemble the First Company!"

"Wait a minute, if I command the mountain formation to conduct a naval battle, where are you going to go?"

"I will hold on to the bond of my blood, embrace the unknown fate, and do my best to make a difference."

Lysander drew his Fist of Dorn and strode into the dark passage.

(End of this chapter)