The Emperor’s Angel of Death

“Why are their weapons so powerful?”

Struggling to break free from the simulation, Asterion surveyed his battle line, only to find it had transformed from a neat, straight line into a jagged, cratered mess—many ships had simply vanished from the star chart.

Blinding loss reports cascaded across the edges of his vision, their information only comprehensible at that speed due to the superhuman reaction time and focus of an Astartes.

“Counterattack! Counterattack!”

Asterion roared, a sound close to a groan, as the Necron scythe unfolded, with attack ships and reaper ships converging from the flanks to the center, forming a pair of intersecting shears, and the tomb ship in the middle becoming an unbreakable anvil.

Lasers, plasma, shells, green lightning, and multicolored energy beams turned the star chart battlefield into a macabre concert, but its performance was a song of death.

Soon, a Retribution-class battleship suffered a catastrophic explosion, struck by the tomb ship's powerful weapons with almost no resistance.

Immediately after, a second battlecruiser was destroyed amidst ear-splitting alarms.

Asterion adjusted frantically, but he discovered to his horror that none of his tactics were working; his previous plans had turned into garbage. In just half an hour of engagement, a quarter of his fleet had evaporated, while the enemy's losses...

...were likely in the single digits!

But even more terrifying, the Necron warships had pierced his formation, swept past his second-line battle group fleets, and squadrons of attack ships had bored through the Imperial formation, appearing directly behind his lines.

As everyone knew, the rear of a warship was the most vulnerable, but normally, when two ships passed head-on, it would take a long time to turn around. However, the Necron warships simply defied logic!

“Cheating! Utter cheating!!”

Asterion watched as the enemy warships ignored the inertia that should exist in space, performing a U-turn in place at high speed!

Amidst his roars, the most vulnerable rear of the Imperial's sweeping, galaxy-conquering battle line formation was attacked, turning mighty warriors into panicked prey, many ships being destroyed during clumsy maneuvers.

The two enormous tomb ships approached the Imperial battleships slowly like gods, destroying everything in their path with almost exaggerated firepower. Asterion sent out a large number of fighters to try to surround them, but to no avail. The system constantly reported that fighters had lost contact or pilots had gone insane, and attempts to ram them were also useless because if a warship got too close, its entire system would shut down, and its engines and void shields would fail. This was a battle he simply couldn't comprehend.

[Grace Signifier Destroyed]

[Almoner Destroyed]

[Silver Cross Destroyed]

A series of messages nearly paralyzed Asterion. At this point, the Imperial fleet's battle line had been completely torn apart. The large and small ships that had gathered like fireflies on the star chart now flickered and quickly extinguished like lit matches in the dark. The surviving ships were resisting in vain, but their artillery accuracy was low, and they were even more likely to hit their own side than the enemy.

He had never commanded so many ships and was experiencing for the first time what it felt like to be “overwhelmed”. Various requests for support and instructions surrounded him, as if trapping him in a cage made of red warning symbols.

The Necron warships circled and swooped around the battlefield at an extremely fast speed in a unique way, like raptors besieging dying prey, slaughtering far more prey than themselves with very few numbers.

“Overlord Arica under attack, severely damaged.”

Hearing the news of the Orpheus Fleet's flagship being attacked, Asterion gritted his teeth and slammed his fist hard into the front, then abruptly ripped off his cables, removed his helmet, revealing his angry and sharp-featured broad face, and glared fiercely at the tactical display opposite him.

“You think you've won! I have a final trick up my sleeve!”

Hearing this, Sosiarch also removed his cables and helmet, and chuckled.

“Please, then.”

“One of the two tomb ships was the first to leave the orbit of Amarah Prime, and the first to open fire on the Imperial fleet! It's your flagship!”

The Minotaur Chapter Master pointed angrily at one of the tomb ships.

“I will launch a boarding action at all costs! Led by me personally!”

“Come.”

The Minotaur Chapter's battle barges and strike cruisers quickly formed an assault formation, rushing towards a tomb ship regardless of everything, unleashing hellish bombardment from their bombardment cannons and macrocannons, completely disregarding what was in their path, even Imperial warships being destroyed.

Asterion's hands braced against the edge of the tactical simulator, his face flushed, his teeth clenched, his eyes wide, like a desperate gambler, staring intently at the center of the star chart battlefield.

Soon, a battle barge was destroyed by the tomb ship's terrifying firepower.

Then a second.

Strike cruisers also fell one by one.

Finally, after paying a huge price, the Minotaur flagship Daedalus approached the tomb ship, and then launched a large number of boarding torpedoes, gunboats, and assault boats.

Asterion revealed a cruel smile, slowly raising his head and staring at Sosiarch.

“So, now I'm on your ship, how should it be calculated? Just declare me defeated?”

However, to his surprise, Sosiarch simply shrugged.

“It's okay, you win, I withdraw.”

“What?”

“I'll count the boarding action as your victory, I choose to retreat.”

The tomb ship's massive hull turned and began to accelerate away, while the other Necron warships also began to withdraw in an orderly manner.

Asterion stood there dumbfounded, somewhat at a loss, then the lights in the tactical room came on, and Sosiarch clapped his hands, walking to Asterion's side.

“Congratulations, Chapter Master Asterion, you have won another glorious victory at the cost of your entire chapter, including your own life. You are indeed a tactical genius, a prodigy, a...”

For some reason, Sosiarch suddenly paused, a person suddenly popping into his head, and then he said the following words with a smile.

“A super genius.”

Sensing the sarcasm in Sosiarch's tone, Asterion turned his head.

“What are you talking about?”

“Nothing, just hoping you'll take a look, take a good look, and decide for yourself whether you've won or lost.”

Asterion looked at the star chart, a chill running down his spine, and for a moment he was speechless.