How can a retired savior be considered retired if he drops to 40,000?

All this changed after Fujimaru Ritsuka arrived and used Chaldea's technology to strengthen the spiritual base of the Cursed Army and even recast Konrad Curze's body. New technology was confirmed in this universe, and Tzeentch naturally wanted to hold it in his own hands - even if He was not blind to the hidden dangers behind it, His divinity forced Him to do so.

"Also, I think the thing on the upper level shouldn't be very strong in theory." Fujimaru Ritsuka added, "Otherwise, the entire ritual wouldn't have to adopt this three-level structure that mimics the 'food chain pyramid' to establish the predator-prey relationship between subspace entities. This shows that the designer of the entire ritual felt that if Tezcatlipoca hadn't blocked the upper level, the demon on the upper level might have been eaten by the 'gatekeeper' in the middle level."

Ferros was puzzled: "If it is possible to release demons into the physical universe without weakening the veil, shouldn't we choose the strongest demons possible?"

"Because this is not a formal military operation, it's just an experiment." Fujimaru Ritsuka replied, "The demons that entered the upper level participated in the ceremony as 'experimental subjects'. Even the unpredictable Chaos Gods would not casually use their beloved champion warriors as 'experimental subjects'. A more reasonable guess is that the one on the upper level is a demon that is so weak that it has almost no autonomy left, and for some reason it is rejected by the Chaos Powers and urgently needs to prove itself again. Considering that it descended to the upper level of the ship alone almost silently, perhaps it has some unusual fate with the Iron Hands Chapter, which is why it can still accurately locate it in such a weak situation."

Firoz fell into a brief silence.

"I may know a demon who meets the requirements." His voice, which seemed to be synthesized by a machine, could also be heard with a bitter and unwilling anger. Fujimaru Ritsuka heard these subtle emotions, but she knew that she didn't need to care too much about these emotional issues.

"Have you fought? Did you win?" She asked simply, and watched Ferros nod in agreement.

So she nodded to the other party: "Win again."

"Of course." The Iron Father also answered simply.

The strategic goal had been established, so there was no need for further conversation between the two sides. As soon as they arrived at the temporary command room, the two began to deploy their troops: Ferros confirmed and fine-tuned the combat forces he had prepared for the last time, and began a brief and rapid pre-war mobilization in the data link; Fujimaru Ritsuka abandoned the Night Lords (including the Primarch) who were still autistic in the corner, and decided to take only Enkidu to cooperate with the Iron Hands on the spot to attack the main power room synchronously - if the reactor's energy supply to the upper demons could not be stopped, the whole thing would become endless.

As the two teams quickly set out, the entire ship inexplicably creaked and vibrated. Everyone at this moment simultaneously felt an unbearable, negative feeling as if they were being squeezed.

The Claw of Destruction jumped out of the warp at this time.

A chapter of nonsense setting.

Yes. Six o'clock.

(End of this chapter)

Chapter 67 Don't Let Your Anger Burn You

The causes of many things are complicated, but the means to solve them are simple. And Iron Hands happens to be familiar with and good at such "simple means".

After leaving the warp, the interference to the wireless transmission protocol was greatly reduced. The Iron Librarians, heavy firepower veterans, dreadnought mechas and Primaris recruits led by Ferros were more comfortable in coordinated actions. This force seemed to have life, flowing quickly from the intricate blood vessels inside the ship and converging at a relatively wide assembly square at the junction of the upper and middle levels.

In the ritual, the entire ship has been simulated into a food chain. This is what Fujimaru Ritsuka told him. Therefore, the demon from the upper layer will regard all other beings in the middle and lower layers as its own food. As long as the Iron Hands gather a team, there is no need to look for that thing - the quality of the ether converted from electricity and the real ether is a cliff-like drop. Even if the demons who adapt to the real ether gain a body, they will feel extra hungry. In order to feed on souls, it will naturally find the group closest to it.

The Iron Father formulated a strategy to defend against the enemy based on this, aiming to kill the enemy once again as thoroughly as possible.

"The enemy is the 'Sapphire King'. You may have heard of this name, or you may not. This is normal." Ferros said, "What you need to know is that this servant of the Dark Prince once brought shame to the Chapter. In the Highland Year System, our blood brothers once paid unacceptable losses because of its tricks and curses, but those brothers also poured boiling anger on it and expelled it from the real universe - but these damn demons always come back.

"Now, it has returned and has come after us again. I have no doubt that it comes with hatred. It wants revenge, wants to cross the boundary of the 'veil', wants to defile our spirits and bodies, and make us pay the price - ha!"

Ferros uttered a mocking voice, the electronic synthesizer unable to mask the emotional expression:

"Then let it try! Are we going to sit there and wait for death? Don't we have hatred and anger towards it, and don't we have a debt to collect? Are we going to let the brothers who fell in the previous chaos die in vain? This damned subspace bastard must pay for the evil it has done! Brothers, let us release the emotion suppression agreement at the right moment, no longer suppress this burning anger, but bind it with your noble souls, throw it at the enemy, and let the servants of Chaos know the power of the righteous anger of the Iron Hands!"

About five centuries ago, when the Chapter suffered heavy losses after the Highland Rebellion, and when the consequences of the Sapphire King put the Iron Hands' iron-like creed in jeopardy, Cardan Stounus' speech in the Eye of Medusa pointed out a new path for the entire Chapter, a path that coexists between reason and emotion. Now, five centuries later, when the Iron Hands need to face the Sapphire King again, like the echo of fate, those words that have been familiar to everyone once again emerge in the hearts of every battle brother present.

No one had any doubts about Ferros's arrangement. The entire team quickly set up simple roadblocks and bunkers in suppressed silence, waiting for the enemy to show up in a tense atmosphere. The air was filled with dense anger, as if a tiny spark could set off all the fighting brothers at the same time - and then soon, the spark that ignited everything appeared:

Judging from the appearance of the enemy approaching from a distance, it was undoubtedly a Slaanesh demon: pearly white skin, a slender and twisted body, four slender arms extending from the back, two holding scimitars, and two with sharp spikes and crab claws - but that was all.

There was no more pretentious laughter echoing from behind the curtain, no more poisonous clouds, fragrances and stench that seemed to always accompany him, no more waves of the warp that surrounded him to create an atmosphere. The Sapphire King, who only had a form, stood there in shame and resentment. In the previous failures and the forced distortion of the ritual, he had lost everything he could lose. There was no more singing of the High Heavens surrounding him, no more jeweled armor and soft and luxurious veils decorating him, no more favor from the Dark Prince, and even the two scimitars in his hands were too plain to be the taste of a Slaanesh Daemon.

It hated everything around it, hated the ship that did not conform to its aesthetics, hated the Iron Hand as its enemy, hated the veil that blocked its communication with the warp, and even hated itself for no longer being favored. This extreme disgust from its nature was quickly transformed into an extreme desire, making it thirst for the blood, pain, and souls of all living things in front of it.

——Driven by some extreme emotions shared by both sides, the moment the Sapphire King appeared, the battle began in an unglorious and ungraceful way.

The first thing that was poured out was the Iron Hands' barrage of fire. Various explosive bombs, heavy explosive bombs, and high-powered energy weapons played a very orderly symphony of death in an instant. The trajectories of all the projectiles or energy beams did not interfere with each other, but rushed towards the Sapphire King itself and the path it could take to avoid in a delicate and perfect harmony.

In the first instant, the Great Daemon of Slaanesh was indeed stopped by such dense and powerful firepower coverage: the gift of the High Heaven left it, and on this body woven of some false and bland energy, even long-range weapons that would have been ineffective before began to cause considerable damage.

Even so, its origin belonging to the Elysian Heaven still found a way out in the difficult situation. The Sapphire King quickly began to dance a strange and elegant dance with the death symphony played by the Iron Hands with amazing agility and perfect sword skills - after all, it was still a Slaanesh Daemon, and its agility and reaction ability far exceeded that of ordinary people or even ordinary Astartes warriors. It dodged part of the Iron Hands' precisely calculated and efficient barrage in an incredible way, and deflected part of it with its four arms. It stepped on the wonderful rhythm and quickly approached, and arrived in front of the temporary line of the Iron Hands in a few breaths.

The fact that the enemy had broken through the line of fire did not discourage the soldiers. Rather, when the Iron Hands brothers saw the wounds on the demons caused by the bombs because they had no time to avoid the fire, they became more motivated because they confirmed that the enemy's strength was indeed not at the level of a normal demon.

The guards at the front of the battle line began to take out their melee weapons, and the think tank's staff began to ignite white arcs. Two dreadnought mechas specially equipped with hand equipment for melee combat also stepped forward, trying to kill the Sapphire King who rushed into the battle line. Ferros did not step forward at this time, even though he was also angry. As the Iron Father, the commander of the entire battle, he had to ask himself to remain calm and observe the battlefield before things progressed to the point where a final decision was needed.

He noticed that the wounds on the Sapphire King were healing at an extraordinary rate, and even the moment the damage was inflicted, the wounds had already begun to heal. He realized that part of the ritual in the middle-level main power room was still going on, and after losing the blessing of the Supreme Heaven, the energy extracted from the plasma reactor could still quickly heal the damage suffered by the demon itself.

——The enemy is indeed very efficient in healing itself, but not faster than the efficiency of its battle brothers in inflicting damage on it.

This was the result obtained by Ferros after careful observation and calculation. He was therefore optimistic about the battle situation: the Sapphire King had not recovered from the blow inflicted by the Iron Hands in the Highland Year System for such a long time and was still very weak. Now he had lost the favor of the Dark Prince and was thrown out as some kind of experimental subject. According to Fujimaru Ritsuka, as long as they could create enough flaws in the form woven by the ether, they could naturally exile the demon back to the subspace. If the Think Tank could use psychic energy to make a devastating blow to its essence, then it would not be impossible to completely destroy it.

The optimistic Ferros therefore decided to speed up the attack, not waiting for Ritsuka Fujimaru in the main power room to dismantle the foundation of the ritual itself, but to kill the Sapphire King with the energy supply of the plasma reactor. This strategy was contrary to the original plan, but it could not be said to be an inappropriate decision in the current situation. None of the combat brothers in the command chain questioned it, and they all increased their firepower output and resolutely carried it out.

But he forgot one thing: the power unleashed by the enemy in desperate situations is sometimes unimaginable.

It is true that without the grace of the Dark Prince and the blessing of the Supreme Heaven, the Sapphire King is now very weak, very weak. But this weakness also makes it "for the first time in its life", extremely close to the essence it relied on at the beginning of its birth - and under the leadership of Ferros, the violent attack of the Iron Hands did force it into a desperate situation. In the desperate situation, the extremely angry and desperate Slaanesh Demon crossed his own Rubicon:

It dragged its broken body and let out a horrible scream in despair and sorrow. The psychic shock caused by the scream instantly swept through all the Iron Hands present.

It was not a scream that originated at this moment, but a terrible echo that shocked people's hearts and minds and broke their livers and gallbladders. It is difficult to describe the emotions contained in the scream, because they are too complex and too huge, mixed with the shame of failure, endless regret, overwhelming anger and frustration of death. It was not a scream that could exist in the real universe, so no one had heard a similar sound in their previous life - but every Iron Hand who heard this sound clearly realized one thing in an instant:

The source of that sound was ten thousand years ago, in Istvaan V, from the depths of their genetic father's throat before his death.

This was the last thing they were able to realize, and after that, there was only overwhelming anger.

Mi (spread out).

(End of this chapter)

Chapter 68 The Way of Balance

The sound of gunfire, roars, the operation of chainsaw weapons, and the charging of energy weapons.

These were familiar battlefield sounds, but when he opened his eyes, he found that he could not recognize this battlefield.

He looked around. The armor of his battle brothers was painted in familiar colors, and the tactical markings were painted with the unmistakable emblems of the Iron Hands and Clan Morlock, but the models were familiar yet unfamiliar to him - everyone was wearing relic-level armor from the Great Crusade, but the decorations on it were so plain that they almost didn't exist.

These Iron Hand brothers, who were not wearing prayers or anointed with holy oil, were wielding weapons, most of which were also holy relics, and roared forward. Naturally, he turned his gaze in the direction of the charge.

Then he saw it—a scene he had never seen before, but which seemed to have flowed in his blood from the beginning to the end, and which he understood the moment he saw it:

Ferrus Manus knelt dejectedly on the ground, the Primarch's towering figure still stood out even among the many Astartes warriors. His gene-father fell, covered with wounds, but the mechanical power and the beauty of the human body were still harmoniously integrated in him, making the Primarch still the focus of everyone's attention.

His blood brothers roared and rushed towards the scene. In addition to anger, their voices were filled with incredible confusion and fear. He should have reprimanded them at this time, saying "mortal children can be calmer than you", but he didn't. A kind of cold fear grabbed him from the depths of his soul, and his instinct prompted him to move his eyes upwards again -

He saw a shiny, alien-shaped scimitar, with an obscene cold light flashing on the graceful curve of the blade.

He knew where the blade would kiss.

An uncontrollable and intense fear that came from deep within his genes surged up, and before he realized what he was doing, he rushed forward with a roar, just like his brothers around him.

This charge was blind, as if all the teachings on tactics and strategy he had received in the Iron Hands, the rationality and logic that the Chapter was proud of, and his own service experience of more than five centuries had all left him at the same time. He failed to survey the battlefield, did not try to coordinate with his brothers around him, did not communicate with others about the location of firepower coverage, but just shouted and kept moving forward, driven by the complex emotions burning in his heart, and rushed forward regardless of anything - at this moment, his performance was perhaps not much better than that of a mortal child.

Even so, he still couldn't arrive in time.

The blade fell without any hindrance, cutting into the neck of the Iron Hands Primarch with ease and grace. As blood spurted out, Ferrus Manus's dying roar burst out from his broken throat, from the depths of the Primarch's body and soul, exploding in everyone's ears. As if in response, almost all the Iron Hands present also let out a desperate cry.

The horrible reverberation shook the battlefield of Istawan V, causing him to stumble as he rushed forward. He fell in the crowd, and no one noticed him. The brothers of the Morlock clan were still moving forward, desperately moving forward. What were they thinking? Were they expecting a miracle to happen? Or did they want to live and die with the Father of Genes? Or did they not want to allow the traitors who had fallen into Chaos to desecrate their father's body? He didn't know.

The heavy force of countless Terminator armors pressed down on him almost continuously, but he didn't even care. All he felt was regret and frustration, and he hated himself for not being able to get to the Father of Genes in the right time.

In such regret, he closed his eyes unwillingly. Then——

The sound of gunfire, roars, the operation of chainsaw weapons, and the charging of energy weapons.

These were familiar sounds of the battlefield. He opened his eyes and realized that he was in Istvaan V.

He once again saw his brothers in plain armor, once again found his genetic father following the crowd, once again roared and charged, wanting to reach his father's side before the blade fell -

This time he failed to catch up again, and the alien sword easily split him in half, leaving him with endless anger.

Once again, there were the sounds of gunfire, roars, the operation of chainsaw weapons, and the charging of energy weapons.

These were familiar sounds of the battlefield, and he knew he was in Istvaan V.

He failed to catch up again. This time he was killed by a stray bullet from nowhere, and he didn't even witness the end of his genetic father's life.

This caused him to feel resentment and disgust.

Then there were the sounds of gunfire, roars, the operation of chainsaw weapons, and the charging of energy weapons.

These were familiar sounds of the battlefield, and he knew he was in Istvaan V.

Despair immediately surged up in him, he knew there was no way he could make it in time - how could he, who was born nearly ten thousand years later, arrive in time at the scene of a murder that had been settled ten thousand years ago?

But was he going to give up? Was he going to just sit there and watch his genetic father being beheaded by a traitor?

The boiling emotions drove his steps, but a string of reason suddenly appeared, and the doubts that followed pulled him tightly to the spot. He stopped inexplicably, standing like a reef in the rushing crowd.

Should we really do this?

Why am I here? he thought.

Why am I in a battlefield that I could not have seen? Why do I know that I could not have seen what happened on Istavan V? Who am I?

Then, as Ferrus Manus' blood once again splattered into the sky, a heavy hammer fell on him. He didn't know where the attack came from, he only knew that his body was torn into pieces by the decomposition force field that suddenly erupted from the power hammer, and his eyes fell into darkness again.

But he remembered:

I am Malkan Ferros. I am one of the Iron Fathers of the Iron Hands Chapter. I was born in the 41st Millennium of Mankind, served in the 41st Millennium of Mankind, and continued on into the 42nd Millennium.

There is no way that I, who am in the forty-second millennium, can catch up with the sword that was swung in the thirtieth millennium.

The result of rational analysis made him feel heartbroken, desperate and painful, but he knew it was correct. The gradually returning memories told him that he could not be trapped in this illusion that he was powerless to change.

He also had a battered warship, some Primaris brothers who had just undergone the Rite of Resignation, and a battle to tend to.

The last sound of gunfire, roars, the sound of chainsaw weapons operating, and the sound of energy weapons charging. Malkan Ferros opened his eyes in the battlefield he was familiar with, resisting the urge to look in the direction everyone was looking, and like any qualified Iron Hand, he quickly and carefully observed the battlefield.

His heart was calling him to keep moving forward, but he resolutely turned back, pushed through the crowd with difficulty, and walked against the tide out of the battlefield - driven by his iron-hard rationality.

From a distance, the stabbing sword fell again. At this distance, the sound of blood splashing, which should have been inaudible, was as clear as if it was right next to his ears, and the Primarch's dying roar once again resounded across the battlefield.

But at the same time, the Iron Saint who was walking against the crowd also heard another voice: a sigh full of fatigue, apology and relief, as if it fell from the highest and farthest place, and landed on him clearly and brightly.

"You did well, Malkan Feroce. The balance between emotion and reason, this is an ideal path, something I have never achieved."

The voice that seemed to pierce directly into his soul said:

"And I'm sorry."

Driven by some inexplicable impulse, Firoz's only remaining intact eye shed tears.

Six o'clock. (Seal wiggles)

(End of this chapter)

Chapter 69: Reversing Reversing

Malkan Ferros woke up from chaotic visions, thoughts and emotions. The Iron Father had undergone countless sophisticated transformations and enhanced senses and thinking abilities, which made him realize many things in an instant.

First, it was the time he was confused and lost consciousness. After the ship left the subspace, the clock built into the power armor finally returned to normal operation, so he could clearly know that he had missed 175 seconds in the real universe.

In the next three microseconds, he detected through the runes displayed in front of him what changes had occurred around him after the 175 seconds had passed:

Nearly three minutes is a short time under normal circumstances, but in a fierce close combat it is so long that it is almost eternal - under the influence of the psychic scream, only one in ten of the brothers who had rushed towards the Sapphire King before was left alive, and even the two dreadnoughts specialized in close combat that had rushed forward were forever silenced by the claws of the Daemon of Slaanesh.

The remaining brothers who were originally at the back of the line and responsible for long-range fire support also fell into frenzy and delirium. Some of them roared with rage and fired at nothing with hatred, even at their own comrades. Others trembled and fell into complete silence, standing still, almost completely unable to respond to the outside world.

Whether they were veterans with a higher degree of mechanization or Primaris recruits who had just undergone the Rite of Resignation, as long as they were Sons of Gorgon, they seemed to have not escaped the influence of the psychic scream that ran through their blood. Only the last two dreadnoughts with heavy firepower could still operate normally, pouring unrestrained firepower in front of the Sapphire King, barely maintaining the existence of the front itself - but that might only last until their ammunition ran out.

In the next microsecond, Ferros suddenly understood, as if it were a flash of inspiration, why his genetic father had apologized to him specifically in that stretch of consciousness that was so jumbled up that it was broken and blurred, with only a few fragments left.

His whole body was in pain.

It wasn't that he had been injured in the previous period of time. It was not the pain that people would naturally feel when they were injured, but a pure torture that was a thousand times stronger than that. Ferros only felt that his power armor seemed to have turned into a full set of torture instruments of the same origin as the Fist of Pain. The blazing pain, like boiling magma, flowed freely in his limbs and bones, almost tearing him apart.

When a Iron Hand says that he is in "pain all over his body", it means that his pain really comes from "the whole body".

Ferros was the master of the forge and had only the most basic understanding of medicine, but this was enough for him to realize that the pain that was tormenting him now did not have a specific source. Every blood vessel, every nerve, even the lymphatic system and muscle cells in his body seemed to be the fuel for this pain, and would not stop until it was completely consumed.

His neural throttles and sensory regulation systems were functioning normally, but to no avail. Even for an Astartes veteran of the Iron Hands, this level of pain was enough to impede movement or even drive a person mad. He could still grit his teeth and endure it, and then -

—Without any will or control of his own, he stood up smoothly from his prone position.

"What are you doing?! Stand up! Realize immediately that you are still on the battlefield! There are still enemies in front of you who are still alive!"

Malkan Fellowes's voice echoed through the steel walls of the ship. It was indeed his voice, at least in the audio spectrum that the instruments could identify; but it was clearly not his voice, his voice would not sound so full, so loud, so soul-shaking like a bell - it sounded like there was an overlapping reverberation that the instruments could not detect, as if it could be Malkan Fellowes's voice, or Castimir Fish's voice, or even the voice of any of the Iron Hands.

Of course, it could also be the voice of Ferrus Manus.

In this split second, Malkan Ferros, who was being tortured by the seemingly endless pain, realized what was happening. He gritted his teeth and swallowed all the pain. It was difficult for him to think too much in such torment, but at least he could still do this.