Chapter 180: Let Us Crush the Enemy |
"Truly worthy of the name Lamenters."
After finishing the battle report submitted by Titus, Romulus could not help but mutter in admiration.
The engines of the Dawnlight emitted a low, rumbling roar as the warship tore through the void at sub-light speeds, racing desperately toward Asteria.
The Transmigrators did not dare delay; anything they needed to discuss could be handled on the way.
After all, the environmental situation on this planet was genuinely rather complex.
He turned his attention to another document. It was a recent briefing forwarded by Rameses regarding the Aeldari Farseer Hektor, which revealed the planet's dual identity: it was simultaneously an Imperial garden world and a sacred habitat for the Exodite Aeldari.
Their mutual demands regarding the planetary environment largely neutralized any conflict between the two factions. The Exodite Aeldari needed to preserve the local ecosystem, relying on the World Soul to protect their Souls from Slaanesh's corruption, while humanity also desired a beautiful, pristine paradise world.
This was a rare relationship of coexistence, though not entirely unheard of. Although the Imperium and the Aeldari had slightly different definitions of a paradise world, their shared pursuit of a beautiful environment had forged a rare consensus between the two species.
Beep.
Aglaia practically owed the Lamenters a deep bow of gratitude. If not for the absolute persistence of those warriors, this planet would have already eaten an atmospheric incinerator torpedo.
"My Lord?"
Titus inquired in a low voice.
"We plan to reclaim this planet. Every single garden world is a precious asset to the Imperium."
Romulus announced his decision.
Jokes aside, even after splitting the fleet, they still had a starting force of two thousand Adeptus Astartes—comprising Blood Angels, Flesh Tearers, Dark Angels, and Alpha Legionnaires—along with purely mechanized troops modeled after the Solar Auxilia.
Combined with the Dawnlight's fleet, leveling a planet in a short span of time would be all too easy.
The intensity of the conflict on this planet was nowhere near that of Pierred, and the combat environment was much more forgiving. Even with a mere four hundred men, the Lamenters had managed to hold out for a long time.
"The Talsar Squad is ready to join the battle."
Titus replied immediately, signaling for the ship's captain to connect to the Dawnlight's command system at once.
The captain hesitated for a moment but chose to obediently establish the uplink.
He sneakily threw another glance at Titus.
For some inexplicable reason, the captain could clearly sense that Sergeant Titus was incredibly excited.
Excited? Of course he was excited.
Titus nervously clenched his fists.
It was not out of reverence as one might hold for their Genetic Father, but rather out of profound respect for the man's capabilities and an acknowledgement of the undeniable truth he represented.
Non-Codex manuals were strictly classified as forbidden texts among the Ultramarines. However, due to Calgar's own ambiguous stance on the matter, they were currently only being confiscated rather than ruthlessly purged.
Because of this, Titus himself had repeatedly studied various editions of the "Tyranid Xenos Combat Guide," always keeping a close eye on the related battle reports. Even though The Priest in charge of monitoring the Chapter members' spiritual health frequently pulled him aside for lectures, Titus felt absolutely no need to change his ways.
Reading through scene after scene of analysis and a continuous stream of battle reports, Titus felt as though he had been plunged into a vast ocean, reducing him to nothing more than a single piece of drifting kelp.
All he needed to do was drift along with the crashing waves stirred up by the ocean currents, and he would be able to maximize his own worth.
He sincerely hoped that one day, he would be able to serve under the command of such an exceptional leader.
It was not that Calgar was lacking in any way. Titus naturally respected his Chapter Master and fully acknowledged his formidable strength and tactical acumen.
But this was an entirely different matter.
Gazing at Romulus's towering, imposing physique, Titus proudly puffed out his chest.
The rumors circulating within the Ultramarines had never ceased. He did not believe them, but that did not diminish Romulus's exalted standing in his heart.
"Thank you for your cooperation, Sergeant Titus. I am honored to command Guilliman's most outstanding progeny."
Romulus smiled and nodded, causing Titus to involuntarily tense his facial muscles, adopting a perfectly rigid expression.
He suddenly found himself rejoicing over his demotion to the northern sector.
During a previous campaign, Titus had blatantly violated the Codex Astartes by commandeering the weaponry of a Mortals regiment for a tactical breakthrough. Although he had ultimately won the battle, he was reported by one of the warriors in his own squad.
Fortunately, because it was an extraordinary time of war, those Inquisitors could not muster the interest to arrest an Ultramarine. As a result, Titus only had to endure the disciplinary pressure from within his Space Marine Chapter.
To protect him, Calgar simply dispatched him—along with a few other troublemakers from the Ultramarines—to assist the Great Rift coalition forces in combat.
He silently thanked Lord Calgar.
Titus slotted the command terminal back into the bridge's console. Ignoring the captain's speechless stare, he turned on his heel and led his squad in a sprint toward the hangar.
"It seems the Mortifactors couldn't dodge their fate in the end, no matter how much they tried to hide."
Aboard the "Silent Oath", Rameses observed the operational maneuvers of the Mortifactors and couldn't help but sigh.
This Chapter had already done everything humanly possible. They executed a rapid rescue operation to extract the population from the human settlements, immediately turned around to transport them to safety, and then headed off to reinforce other planets. It wasn't as if they were maliciously avoiding combat just to deliberately sell out their allies.
They purely, genuinely, and from the bottom of their hearts, just did not want to stay anywhere near the Lamenters.
The Mortifactors were indeed somewhat mystical. Their collective meditation ritual—used to commune with their Primarch and obtain his wise guidance—was definitely not connecting them to a psychic blank like Guilliman, but it was incredibly accurate nonetheless.
Yet despite dodging and weaving through every crisis, their luck eventually ran out.
During the Third War for Armageddon in 997.M41, the Imperium lost the Fighting Force of three Adeptus Astartes Chapters due to the Great Rift war. Left with no other choice, they had to order the Mortifactors to travel all the way from the Ultima Segmentum to provide reinforcements.
The Mortifactors answered the call, as a Prophecy had long ago guided them: their presence in the Third War for Armageddon was absolutely essential.
That same year, the Mortifactors' homeworld of Posul was exploited in their absence by a Tyranid Hive Fleet, thoroughly consumed, and reduced to a dead, silent world.
From then on, the Mortifactors were reduced to a miserable, fleet-based Chapter, becoming comrades in misfortune with the Scythes of the Emperor, who had been nearly wiped out when Sotha was invaded.
"But their attitude is entirely understandable."
Beside him, Arthur nodded gently.
If he ever ran into a well-meaning but supernaturally unlucky soul in real life, he would run as far away as his legs could carry him.
If not for their inherent "arrogance" as Transmigrators, coupled with the systemic cheats they possessed, even they wouldn't dare get too deeply involved with the Lamenters. At most, they would have dropped off a shipment of gear and immediately bolted.
The Mortifactors' avoidance proved they had a crystal-clear understanding of their own limits; they knew full well they couldn't endure the torment of the Lamenters' cursed luck.
For the Lamenters, it merely meant tragic casualties; for any other Chapter, it would likely mean instant extinction.
Boom!
A continuous tremor rippled through the warship, causing the holographic projections of the several individuals to flicker and shake.
The acceleration of Imperial vessels was nothing short of absurd, easily capable of maintaining sub-light cruising speeds for extended periods.
Within the span of that brief conversation, the fleet had already arrived in the planet's outer orbit. The Macro-cannons and plasma batteries immediately unleashed a torrential bombardment, continuously devastating the densely packed swarm of Tyranid bio-ships in the lower orbit.
Arthur cast a fleeting glance out the viewport at the chaotic scene unfolding outside.
If things had proceeded as normal, this planet would have been inevitably destroyed. The Lamenters would have suffered massive casualties just to save an extra fraction of the population, only to accept the gratitude of the survivors before marching off to their next sacrifice under the baffled, uncomprehending gazes of their Battle-Brothers.
"But now that we are here, we'll stick to the usual plan. Master Arthur and I will deal with Chaos."
Rameses cracked his knuckles in eager anticipation, his gaze settling on the twins standing beside him, who were currently sharing a single body and concealing their Aeldari features.
The Aeldari twins instinctively shrank back.
Fighting Slaanesh right out of the gate was a little too thrilling for their tastes.
However, their body was exceedingly honest. They obediently dashed toward the Wraith Titan, which had been branded with the Imperial Aquila and equipped with an Imperium-styled outer shell.
"War machines are prepped, and the testing protocols have been completed. The Flesh Tearers Chapter is ready for deployment at any moment. Heavy firepower vehicle logistics are currently being mapped out."
Romulus nodded in approval, seamlessly transitioning into distributing orders.
"Titus."
His voice was relayed directly into the ears of the sergeant, who had just stepped aboard a Thunderhawk.
"Lord Romulus!"
The fully armed Titus responded without missing a beat.
He had kept his comms link to the Dawnlight open the entire time.
"Bring the Talsar Squad with you aboard the Dawnlight."
Romulus stared at the standard-issue Codex-compliant Mark VII power armor the man was wearing and frowned slightly.
It was entirely too outdated. Mark X armor was already universally standard across the Expeditionary Fleet; all previous power armor models had been entirely relegated to ceremonial use.
"Go get yourselves a change of gear first."
"Yes, My Lord!"
——
Under the highly efficient coordination of the fleet's tactical cogitators, the Dawnlight's war machines spooled up to maximum operational capacity in the blink of an eye.
This unparalleled efficiency rapidly materialized into devastating reality. A tempest of human artillery fire soon cast a suffocating shadow over the land that was being ravaged by Xenos and Daemons.
The Mortifactors sought higher efficiency and reasonably feared the very real, palpable curse of the Lamenters' bad luck; that was forgivable.
The Talsar Squad remained staunchly committed to their duty. Though they couldn't directly participate in the battle, they had offered every possible convenience to facilitate the Lamenters' operations; that was entirely understandable.
The Lamenters adhered purely to the strength of their convictions, repeatedly sacrificing themselves to carve out a path of survival for humanity; that was undeniably worthy of the deepest respect.
Where the real problem lay, then, went without saying.
"All forces, advance."
Romulus pressed his palm downward in a resolute gesture.
"Let us crush the enemies of mankind."
This was no longer the same planet that had barely scraped by in the original timeline by a sheer, bloody margin.
And they themselves were far more powerful than ever before.