Warhammer: Don't Call Me the God of All Machines

Chapter 805 Because he is Vulcan

The news from the Salamander boarding assault team was quickly reported to the Primarch through the company commander.

The Lord of Fire Dragons, who was chatting and laughing with Tassa and discussing the next strategic deployment with the combat staff, was like a piece of red-hot metal being thrown into a cooling pool and cooled down in an instant.

Vulcan did not shout and yell like Lemanrus, nor did he randomly execute a son like Peturabo.

All the salamanders present could clearly feel the unprecedented, terrifying rage brewing in their father's heart.

This feeling is like the calm before the final trial that Nocturne undergoes every fifteen years.

The enraged Vulcan's crimson pupils shone with light, and no Astartes dared to meet the Primarch's gaze, for it would burn their very souls away.

“This is a trap, Father,” Chief Pharmacist Tassa said in a deep voice.

Upon seeing these shocking images, Tassa was unable to contain his anger.

The sons of Vulcan inherited the Primarch's kindness and innocence, and they loved all humans equally.

They are even willing to sacrifice their own precious lives in exchange for the life of even an ordinary person.

Most of the other Astartes could not understand the foolish ideas of their cousins.

It's important to know that the resources required to create an Astartes are hundreds of thousands of times greater than those required for a mortal.

Trading Astartes for mortals is an incredibly unprofitable deal no matter how you look at it.

"Yes, I understand. It's a very clumsy plot, and any experienced commander could see through it at a glance."

"They are exploiting our humanity and our morals to make us do irrational things."

Vulcan looked around at everyone. He was pleased that his sons shared a common hatred for the enemy and were able to analyze the problem calmly.

The vast majority of them were salamanders born after the Horus Rebellion, while most of the veterans from before the Horus Rebellion had perished.

Vulcan always believed that the greatest strength of the salamanders was not their ever-evolving and sophisticated equipment, nor their powerful and resilient bodies, but their spirit and the humanity they possessed.

It is these intangible things that give the fire salamander its tangible power.

"These abominable aliens want to lure us over, and the billions of mortals imprisoned on this anvil are the bait they set."

"I have to admit, they are indeed cunning and despicable enough."

“They know our style very well, they know that we value human life, so they have a firm grasp on our weaknesses.”

Vulcan held the Dawnbringer in his hand. This divine weapon, forged by the Lord of Fire Dragons himself, seemed to sense its master's thoughts and emitted a scorching flame.

The Dawnbringer can sense the thoughts in the user's mind. If a person with a dark heart wields the Dawnbringer, this short-handled warhammer cannot fully exert its power.

The other fire lizards also tried their best to suppress their anger and face the problem calmly.

They both looked at their respective genetic fathers, waiting for the other to make a decision.

Whether it was waging war against the Gorgon Anvil or continuing the offensive into the heartland of the Greenskins for the sake of the greater good, they were completely subservient to Vulcan's will.

The Primarch's wisdom surpasses that of all of them; his considerations are certainly more comprehensive and rational than those of the others.

Vulcan knew that the decision he was about to make might affect the course of the battle against the Ghoul Stars.

They finally managed to open a breach on Skullcrusher, and then marched straight in along this scar of the Orc Empire. Not long ago, they even destroyed two battle moons, achieving an impressive record.

But to expect him to turn a blind eye to these mortal prisoners who have fallen into the hands of the aliens...

Sorry, by the Emperor, Vulcan cannot do that.

Vulcan knew his own character; he couldn't say no to the weak who were being bullied and abused.

Perhaps Lane would think he was being old-fashioned and overly sentimental, and Guilliman would think he was too honest and inflexible, but that was Vulcan.

He will always be happy for others' happiness and sad for others' sadness, driven by the goodness of human nature, not by other complex desires.

"Children, change the direction of the fleet."

"Let's go get the anvil."

“They are calling upon the Emperor, they are calling upon us, and we must respond.”

"Even if our resources are insufficient to rescue them from that trap..."

"But at least we can give them a quick death, let them die as human beings, instead of being playthings and food for those damned green-skinned orcs."

“We will not blame them for losing their dignity. They lost their dignity because of our incompetence. Let the salamanders share this humiliation with them.”

Vulcan did not give a long speech; he seemed to be simply narrating a trivial family matter.

The Lord of Fire Dragons' voice was deep and magnetic, like the rhythmic sound of a forging hammer striking an anvil.

However, the firmness and decisiveness in his words resonated with everyone.

The salamanders understood that the Primarch's decision was not very wise.

If they head to Gogo's Anvil, they will inevitably suffer numerous traps and ambushes from the green-skinned orcs, which could even cause the legion, which has just managed to recover some strength, to decline again.

But they don't care about that.

Salamanders' fundamental duty is to protect humans. If they ignore the suffering of humans in order to protect themselves, no matter what excuses they have, their "roots" have been severed.

A salamander legion without a soul, no matter how many people it has or how well-equipped it is, is nothing more than a strong corpse.

Vulcan did not ask his sons whether they were willing to continue following their father in doing something that seemed reckless.

The Astartes of the Salamanders did not ask their father why he did not understand the attitude of the heir.

They already understood each other perfectly, so there was no need for any verbal probing.

The engine beams of the Undying Ember began to shift, and the plasma light ignited a beacon of hope amidst the cold and dark ghoul stars.

The machine spirit activated various systems on the warship, silently improving their operational efficiency.

The mechanical priests who were maintaining and blessing the Undying Ember suddenly looked confused, and even the energy consumption of the external processing matrices installed on their bodies began to rise rapidly.

They didn't ring the mechanical holy bell or light the blessing incense, so why was the machine spirit so delighted?
They had no idea why, and simply assumed it was a manifestation of the God of Machines that had stimulated the warship's mechanical spirit.

“Send communications to my brothers, telling them our location and direction of advance.”

“Tell him that we are on our way to redeem a group of the Emperor’s people, and ask him to come and meet us if the situation allows.”

"Note: This is not an order, but a request. I just hope that he can slightly shift the troop deployment without changing the plan."

Vulcan was not a mindless pushover; when making a decision, he would weigh the pros and cons first, and then, within his own capabilities, pursue humanity and goodwill as much as possible.

However, if pursuing his humanity requires having his brothers clean up his messes, then the Lord of Fire Dragons would never do something so ridiculous.

Vulcan had great confidence in his legion, and even if faced with ambushes and traps by green-skinned orcs, he was at least able to escape unscathed.

Under the Primarch's command, the Salamander Expeditionary Fleet completely changed course and headed towards the Gorgon Anvil, which imprisoned billions of humans.

Even Vulcan didn't know what kind of enemy and danger he was going to face, but even if he had known, he would have gone without hesitation.

There was no other reason than—he was Vulcan.

……

“My friend, look at this. Among so many Primarch brothers, there are many who are in charge. It’s not just me.”

"Vulcan, slightly provoked by those greens, immediately led his fleet to seek revenge, sigh..."

“But I knew he would do it; no matter how many times he had to choose, he would make the same choice.”

“Vulcan knew there was a great risk, but he still did it, and that’s what I admire most about him.”

When Roche and Guilliman received the interstellar communication from Vulcan, they immediately realized that Vulcan's forward fleet was facing an extremely dangerous crisis.

Vulcan came only to inform them, leaving them no room for maneuver or obstruction.

“Yes, that’s Vulcan.” Rosie also admired Vulcan’s decisiveness.

"If it were you, what would you do?" Rose asked Guilliman in return.

"Me?" The Macurag paced back and forth, beginning to deduce the specific situation based on the information he had.

If other people's thinking is merely putting themselves in someone else's shoes and making assumptions, then Guilliman's thinking is a complete deduction of how things will develop.

This guy's brain is so outrageous that it can think in multiple threads completely independently; calculating a hundred possible branches in one go is not a problem for him.

Rosie envied Guilliman's ability. If he could have that, he wouldn't have been so passive and faced so many difficulties during his adventures in the multiverse.

"If it were me, I would also try to rescue those human prisoners, but if my calculated success rate is lower than expected, I would immediately abandon my plan."

"Perhaps I will use the deployment of those green-skinned orcs in the Anvil Space to launch a counter-encirclement tactic."

I will use those human prisoners to draw the attention of the orcs, then launch a surprise attack from the outside to deliver a devastating blow.

"Rather than letting these prisoners become a burden on the empire, it's better to let them use their remaining strength as a stepping stone for me to annihilate these aliens."

Guilliman's answer was both honest and brutal.

His rationality often manifested as inhumanity.

This is why many Primarchs despise the Macurag's ruthlessness.

In their eyes, Guilliman cared more about purely rational calculations; he was like a cold, impersonal supercomputer that made judgments based solely on probability and self-interest.

"Yes, your choice may seem unreasonable, but from an objective point of view, it is extremely reasonable and correct."

"You have minimized the probability of overall human damage, escaped the trap set by the green-skinned orcs, and are even able to use it to counterattack."

Losi remarked that this was the difference between Guilliman and Vulcan.

Neither of them is right or wrong; rather, their perspectives on the issue are different.

Guilliman preferred to view things from the perspective of the empire as a whole, while Vulcan was more concerned with the perspective of the insignificant, powerless, and insignificant.

Guilliman's ruthlessness even extended to himself. If he were the one besieged by the green-skinned orcs, and if reinforcements faced the dilemma of whether to rescue him or not, he would decisively order them to abandon him.

“Sometimes I envy my fire dragon brother,” Guilliman said, a sincere look of envy on his face.

"He doesn't need to think about all that; he just follows his heart."

“Regardless of right or wrong, he only asks what is in his heart. He never does anything that he will regret, which is something I cannot do.”

"If my true feelings and my calculations conflict, I will choose a more rational approach, but I will also accept the torment of my emotional impulses."

Each Primarch has their own personality traits; no two are exactly alike.

Guilliman understood this as well, which is why he admired Vulcan but did not imitate him; they were essentially two different kinds of people.

"We can't become Vulcan."

"But he could be the one to support Vulcan."

“If Vulcan goes to rescue the mortal prisoners of the Anvil, then we will go to meet the Lord of Fire Dragons. We can even take this opportunity to launch a pincer attack and completely devour these ambushing greenskins.”

"They can plot against us, and we can plot against them too."

Guilliman's eyes gleamed; he had already made his calculations and preparations.

……

Vulcan encountered no obstacles or ambushes on his way to the spatial coordinates given by the green-skinned orcs.

This is certainly not because the Orcs are kind-hearted, but because they have already redeployed and hidden all their forces to prevent the big green guy from discovering the problem in advance and alerting him.

Of course, Vulcan was fully aware of their little scheme.

It's even possible that the green-skinned orcs abandoned their pointless probing and harassment because they knew Vulcan was aware of an ambush.

Both humans and orcs can anticipate each other's reactions, and even use nested predictions to counter each other's predictions.

After many rounds of mutual suspicion, neither side could tell which level the other was on. At this point, it was a true test of which commander was more skilled and could see through the other's true intentions.

The Salamander fleet traversed the vast waves of the Ether Sea, heading towards the star system where the Anvil of Gogo resides.

Vulcan abandoned the name KJ-690 as listed in the Imperial database and renamed it the Anvil System. This was not only because there was a "Goblin Anvil" in this system, but more so because in Vulcan's eyes, it was also an anvil for forging himself and the Salamander Legion.

When forging weapons, only by repeatedly hammering and forging the raw metal can internal impurities be removed, leaving only the required metal proportions.

Vulcan was an expert in forging weapons, but he was equally adept at forging true guardians of humanity.

"Come on, come on, you ugly aliens..."

"I'll take your plot."

Vulcan stood in front of the holographic projection, his charcoal-black face stained crimson by the alarm's red light.

The Anvil Galaxy has twelve planets of varying masses. What's special is that at the center of the system, there are three stars orbiting a common center in different orbits.

The Lord of Fire Dragons knew that in this three-star system, it was impossible to determine changes in the stars' trajectories through calculation.

If we abstract this to a mathematical level, then the three-body problem has no universal analytical solution.

The Anvil Galaxy has three volatile suns, which makes the internal environment of this galaxy extremely unstable.

Around the twelve planets, countless asteroids and satellites drift.

According to the Ornithometer scans, these small celestial bodies should have originated from planetary fragments that were forcibly torn apart during the Three-Body Problem's orbit.

The galaxy is packed with countless asteroids, which means that high-speed maneuvering within the galaxy is simply a pipe dream.

The countless small celestial bodies provided the green-skinned orcs with an excellent environment for hiding and ambushing.

Even if they hid the battle moon inside, as long as they disguised it well, it would be impossible for them to find it in a short time.

"Switch to a defensive formation, all units be alert to the surrounding environment."

"These aliens could attack us from our side at any time."

Upon reaching the entrance to the Anvil Galaxy, Vulcan showed no sign of retreating. He merely instructed the fire lizards to be on high alert before plunging into the galaxy.

Even if it's a den of dragons and tigers, he's willing to venture into it.

Sure enough, shortly after entering the Anvil Galaxy, the Undying Ember's scanning array detected some extremely suspicious signals.

An unusual motion signal has been observed in the asteroid belt, with its speed and direction inconsistent with the environment.

Without a doubt, these are the hidden green-skinned orc warships, or even the unknown Battle Moon.

"Sir, the number of enemies is likely much greater than we imagined."

The captain of the Undying Embers issued another warning, noting that more and more suspicious red dots could be seen appearing in the holographic star map.

"Excuse my bluntness, but we cannot save the human prisoners on the anvil. If we insist on doing so, we may be wiped out."

"We don't have the time or the capacity to transport those billions of people."

"Just freeing those humans from their cages and reorganizing them will take at least several Terra months."

Vulcan's face was completely calm, as if he were not the one about to face danger.

"Then let's change our strategic goals."

"Put the extermination order on the anvil of the Gorgons and end their suffering."

Vulcan made a painful but rational decision.

Once the order was given, the captain no longer voiced any doubts, but instead devoted 120% of his energy to carrying out the Primarch's will.

The green-skinned orc warships gradually began to form an encirclement from an extremely long distance.

They did not launch an attack immediately, seemingly intending to wait until the Salamander fleet was fully within ambush range before initiating the attack.

The situation on the battlefield suddenly became bizarre.

The salamander fleet continued to advance, approaching the spatial coordinates of the anvil.

The green-skinned orcs suppressed their fighting spirit and sent the fire lizard fleet deeper into the galaxy.

Finally, Vulcan could see the shape of Gorgon's anvil with his own eyes through the bridge porthole.

He saw billions of people suffering, struggling without dignity, yet still unable to escape the fate of death.

He saw the Ork hidden in the shadows, patiently waiting for him to drop Astartes onto the planet, preparing to launch a surprise attack while the human landing forces were still en route.

"Forgive me, I am powerless to save you."

Vulcan closed his eyes in pain and slammed his fist hard against the warship's armor plating, leaving a deep fist mark.

As the Undying Ember approached the critical point of attack, the Ork's activity became more obvious. They clearly believed that the humans were already surrounded and could no longer escape.

The Salamander's scanning array detected at least three combat moon-class signal sources moving.

The even larger number of green-skinned warships directly revealed their presence, swarming towards the humans like locusts in a dark mass.

They were roaring, howling, venting their hatred towards humanity.

Even the green-skinned orcs didn't expect this method to actually work so well. The big green guy knew it was a trap, but he still resolutely walked into it.

In that case, they should devour this entire human fleet, otherwise wouldn't they be wasting the opportunity given to them by Brother Mao?
The outer warships of the Salamander fleet began to flash with dazzling firelight, firing lances and cannons in unison, aiming directly at the green-skinned warships that were charging the fastest.

The two sides are still far apart in space. Even a light spear traveling at the speed of light would need to travel for tens of seconds to hit the enemy.

The light spear struck the orc warship, and only then did the destructive light travel back to the scanning array.

In the pitch-black, cold space, it all seemed as absurd and ridiculous as a slow-moving silent film.

Vulcan saw dozens of dazzling fireworks light up his field of vision; the green-skinned warships that had been hit were now destroyed.

But compared to their sheer numbers, all of this seemed to be in vain.

Destroy one green-skinned warship, and two or three more will fill the gap and continue charging toward the human warships.

The extinction of the Undying Embers allowed weapons to be unleashed, giving them no time for orbital bombardment and turning the entire world into a wasteland.

"Release the whirlwind torpedoes and let the holy flames take their lives; this will reduce their suffering."

The launch silos of the Undying Ember opened one by one, and three spinning whirlwind torpedoes were launched, propelled by the propulsion system, heading towards the surface of the Anvil.

These extinctions enable weapons to easily ignite free oxygen in the atmosphere through thermonuclear reactions, propelling the entire world into a blazing inferno caused by fusion reactions.

In a very short time, it can burn the entire planet's atmosphere into a vacuum, and the ocean will evaporate completely after boiling. The evaporated water vapor will be ionized and decomposed by ultra-high temperature, continuing to promote the fusion process.

In such a cataclysmic disaster, humans would only feel extremely brief pain before their flesh and bones would be burned to ashes by the ultra-high temperature.

This was Vulcan's gentleness; he couldn't save these people, he could only let them die more decisively and with more dignity.

On the surface of the anvil, hundreds of millions of humans are imprisoned in the hollowed-out mountains.

Only a very few lucky people are able to see the sky through the gaps in the railings on the outermost edge.

Olivia, the medical nun, was one of the lucky few.

"Look, those are Imperial warships!"

"They're here! They're here!"

The human prisoners were all lying listlessly on the floor of the cage, leaning against the walls, but when the first prisoner started screaming, the others suddenly seemed to be activated and rushed towards the bars.

Human warships and orc warships are very easy to distinguish; the light they emit is even visible to the naked eye.

If observed from the planet's surface, the green-skinned orc warships appear as specks of green light, and they appear in large numbers, enough to fill the entire starry sky.

The pale blue lights represent human warships, which are fewer in number and more concentrated in their distribution.

These imprisoned prisoners had long fantasized that the emperor's warships and warriors would appear in the sky to rescue them, these poor souls.

Every day, people go completely mad from fear and desire, turning into insane, rambling lunatics.

And now, salvation has finally arrived.

The excited cheers and screams of humans spread like a plague from the outer cages to the inner ones.

Even those humans who can't see anything still instinctively scream along with the cheering crowd.

"Praise the Emperor!"

"He's coming! He's coming!"

"His angel has arrived!"

Olivia weakly peered at the sky through the crack.

What she cared about was not whether she could be saved, but whether the child she had sent away had survived.

Human life is the currency of emperors, while the value of children has never been defined.

"Don't come, don't come to save us."

"This is a complete trap."

Olivia was so weak that she could barely speak.

Her once fair and beautiful face had long since become withered and sunken. Due to a lack of care and cleaning, she looked completely disheveled and unkempt, as if she had been rescued from some underground mine.

She knew her voice couldn't reach the ears of the imperial reinforcements.

But what if? What if her devout prayers were perceived by the emperor and a revelation was bestowed upon the imperial army?

Olivia believed that if you don't do it, there's absolutely no chance, but if you do it, there's an extremely slim chance.

Not a single star can be seen in the night sky above the anvil; these damned ghoul stars seem unable to pierce the darkness even with their light.

But a streak of fire entered the Earth's surface from outside the atmosphere, and its appearance immediately attracted the attention of all humans who could see the sky.

Even though the flame was far beyond the limits of human vision, they didn't care; in their eyes, it was a beacon of hope.

Olivia was originally a medical nun serving in Cadia, and she had witnessed firsthand how the Empire would deal with planets contaminated by chaos.

First, the Imperial Navy will conduct orbital bombardment to destroy the large air defense systems, command centers, and heavy firepower units on the surface, regardless of whether there are enemies or not.

Then comes the surface airborne landing, where the Imperial Navy will drop the Titan Legion, the Knight Families, heavy armored forces, the Astral Army, and the Astartes onto the planet's surface for annihilation.

Whatever that flame was, it wasn't a rescue.

The sparks generated by the rapid friction of the Astartes airdrop pods as they pass through the atmosphere do not look like this; their speed often exceeds ten times the speed of sound, resembling a shooting star.

However, this streak of fire was significantly slower, falling slowly like a firework.

Suddenly, the medical nun shuddered, a sense of fear welling up from the depths of her bones.

She seemed to understand what it was...

An extermination order! An extermination order has been issued!
But once she realized it was an extermination order, her fear and anxiety dissipated.

Yes, how could the Empire's commanders possibly waste their resources coming to the surface to rescue them?

It is absolutely impossible unless the emperor himself comes.

Olivia struggled to her feet and offered her final loyalty to the Lord of Humanity whom she believed in.

May the flames bring redemption and wash away our humiliation.

"Human beings can be destroyed, but not defeated."

After entering the atmosphere, the Cyclone torpedo hovered at a fixed orbital altitude.

A terrifying energy reaction brewed within it, followed by devastating flames that began to burn the entire atmosphere.

The fire spread at an unimaginable speed, and in just a few breaths, the entire sky turned into a burning ocean.

The human captives, yearning for salvation, were stunned. Their ecstatic hope turned into an abyss of despair.

(End of this chapter)