This is our Warhammer journey

Chapter 307 You son of a bitch, a bunch of rabble!
Enduring the torment of the Butcher's Nail, Kosorax's gaze swept toward the War Blacksmith.

Those were subordinates sent by Baben Falk.

Kosolax was very familiar with Falk.

How similar they are.

Both were shadows overlooked by Glory during the Great Expedition era, and both only revealed their true brilliance after their legions disintegrated.

One became the ruler of the largest war gang of Iron Warriors, while the other piloted the Conqueror to gradually gather the remnants of the shattered legion.

A confident smile curled at the corners of his mouth, dispelling the pain in his head.

As he said, the three Starcastles would eventually be presented as a gift to the Iron Lord, and Kosorax was confident enough to seize control of one of the Starcastles.

When the shackles of old power are broken, those with true courage and talent will rise up, while the weak, hesitant, and overburdened will kneel before the strong.

The Iron Lord had long been aware of their potential.

During that meeting, the Primarch personally devised a detailed strategy for him and demanded that he strictly adhere to it.

This allowed him to truly understand the true nature of the Iron Lord—the rumors circulating in the Chaos faction about Perturabo's eccentric and difficult-to-get-along-with personality were disproven during the game of war chess between the two sides.

Kosorax accepted the heavy responsibility entrusted to him by the Iron Lord.

Before the Iron Lord's battle with his other Primarch brothers ends and he gains complete control of the campaign, he will be responsible for protecting the lives of these Chaos Warbands.

This allowed Kosolax to motivate these guys to do more, but also made him fully aware that they were nothing more than a rabble.

In the face of a true legion, it is a fence that crumbles at the slightest touch.

"The Primarch has arrived! The Primarch has arrived!"

The psionicist, suspended upside down above the pool of blood, let out a shrill howl. Her body suddenly burst forth with dazzling golden flames, and her chained body twisted wildly, slamming against the rack with a piercing metallic groan.

"It is Saint Geres."

Kosorax had long heard of the resurgence of the Lord of the Ninth Legion, that the archangel had once again saved his offspring from the brink of fall and destruction, allowing them to once again pursue their glory under the embrace of angelic wings.

With a scream, a scene of burning appeared before my eyes.

With the psionicist's final, heart-wrenching scream, a burning scene appeared on the surface of the blood pool:
A massive fleet is tearing through the void as it approaches.

The Mechanicus's forging ark, the Imperial Navy's steel behemoths, and the Astartes' battle groups are perfectly integrated into one whole.

In stark contrast to the bloated deployments resulting from mutual distrust and chaos among the Chaos Warbands, this fleet, composed of multiple forces, maintained a precise formation, closely guarding the central transport fleet.

Kosorax had no doubt that such a legion was capable of shattering any near-ground defenses and precisely delivering the Primarch's fury to the planet's surface.

And that's exactly what they did.

The massive pod of whales easily tore the scattered sharks that couldn't escape to pieces, then merged with the remaining friendly fleet on the planet, followed by the standard deployment of surface troops.

A dense swarm of Stormbirds burst into the atmosphere. These vehicles, responsible for legion deployment, had been phased out in the 40k era by both the Chaos and the Empire.

Only a unified legion can bring out the full value of these vehicles, and only the Primarch can bring back a unified legion.

Amidst the falling fire rain, Kosolax also caught a glimpse of golden light.

Fortunately, the main fleet of Kosorax has already infiltrated the warp rift and can enter the route that the Warsmith has already planned at any time.

He was able to continue observing and also try to pick up his companions who hadn't had time to escape.

However, the Primarch's warships cannot be allowed to get too close, as they possess the technology to partially seal off subspace rifts.

This is something Kosorax realized during his second chase with the Primarch, and he has to thank himself for his caution.

Upon noticing the Primarchs' fleet approaching, Kosorax couldn't help but recall the well-ordered Iron Warriors fleet under the Iron Lord's command, and felt a pang of envy.

Even though they had been fragmented into scattered warbands in the past, they reunited into an invincible legion after accepting the Primarch's rule.

This is the function of the Primitive.

As for Angron?
'He has lost himself; he is less a life than some kind of natural disaster.'

Kosolax thought this as he gazed at the burning earth within the Blood Shrine.

"Signal received."

"War blacksmith," the blacksmith said slowly and deliberately.

This is the 80th time in half an hour.

Kosolax silently calculated the time.

His allies, under his command, have minimized their losses as much as possible, but he still needs to keep an eye on which troops are worth waiting for and gathering. He needs to preserve his strength and seize the benefits as much as possible.

This is what he needs to do, and this operation is a great opportunity if he wants to manage those unruly butchers.

Then his brain began to throb again.

"Shaka! What are you still doing here!"

Kosolax couldn't help but roar.

Shaka, his company commander, the commander of the Third Company of the World Eaters, an extremely powerful Khorne Berserker.

"Why haven't you retreated yet!"

He commands a fighting force of nearly four hundred men.

That should have belonged to Kosolax!

"."

He was met with silence; Kosorax could even hear the clicking of the opponent's Butcher's Sting.

"I'm sorry, Kosolax."

A pure voice rose from the other end of the communication.

There was no anger, as if that emotion had been completely removed, leaving only regret and indignation.

Kosolax was taken aback.

"what are you saying?"

"I'm sorry, Kosolax."

The voice on the other end of the communication trembled, and Shaka's voice was transmitted back.

“I apologize to you. I was blinded by lies, I was deceived by the Primarch, and the angel who guided me was not him—”

It gave Kosolax the illusion of going back to the past.

That proud World Devourer Third Company Commander was able to bravely admit his mistakes and acknowledge his shortcomings to his subordinates.

"Etc., etc."

The war blacksmith in front cast a surprised look at him, and Kosolax quickly stopped him from speaking further.

What are you trying to express?

"I am repenting."

The voice, hazy and indistinct, said:

"I apologize to you."

"Haha~"

Upon hearing this, Kosolax, realizing what had happened, laughed.

You didn't regret Istvan III, you didn't regret Istvan V, you didn't regret slaughtering the lives of 3 out of 5 worlds in the Shadow Expedition, you didn't regret abandoning your comrades and honor to flee during the Siege of Terra, you didn't regret it.

You're telling me you regret it now?!

Unlike others who were just sergeants from beginning to end, forcibly branded as butchers, and had no knowledge of the entire rebellion, and had never even met Captain Salyn of the Conqueror, and needed Shaka, the company commander of Dalian, to identify them.

As the company commander of the Third Company, Shaka was qualified to meet with Angron.

He knew perfectly well what had happened during the great rebellion, and he also knew perfectly well what kind of abyss his orders would plunge his soldiers into.

However, he did it anyway.

You brought me to this state, and now, after being illuminated by the light of Saint Jeice, you tell me you regret it?!
You've already made a mistake and you're still thinking about regretting it?

Kosolax let out a cold laugh, looking at the distorted view on the bridge and the chaotic fleet outside the window.

Twisted, depraved, corrupt.

Just by looking at them, you can tell that these people who embrace chaos are incredibly stupid.

Is it possible to go back?

Can not go back!

But he has no regrets.

Even though everything that happened during the great rebellion was not what he wanted, he did not regret it.

That unassuming assault sergeant has become a powerful figure. He has been accumulating strength for many years, not wanting to be trampled underfoot. He has endured for thousands of years, waiting for an opportunity.

He wanted to prove himself, not only to show that he was more powerful than others, but also to tell everyone that he would take back what he had lost with his own hands.

He was neither a restless berserker nor a fool still stuck on the surface of Cyprus, nor would he recklessly make meaningless sacrifices for their cursed demigod father.

He is Kosorax, the oathbreaker of Chaos, he only knows how to rule!
All the World Eaters will be mine, even the Primarch, who, as the Father of Genesis, will not kneel, but will still be manipulated by me to serve me.

I'm determined to take down the World Eater Legion, and even Angron can't hold me back. I'm telling you.

"Go away, go away!"

Kosolax sneered, trembling as the nails hammered into his battered brain.

A mob, they can't even be a proper traitor!
Idiot, idiot!
His gaze lingered for a final moment on his allies, who were already being annihilated at an alarming rate under the overwhelming onslaught of imperial power.

Indulging in desires, harboring ulterior motives, and wavering in their stance.

Chaos can only control this garbage.

"Order the fleet to retreat!"

he yelled.

The massive Chaos Fleet vanished into the warp in an instant, leaving not a ripple.
-
Forging the world's surface in Cyprus - a lamenting wasteland

The Bloodless Shaka felt a dazzling light pierce through his body, scorching his soul.

The sacred flame was dissolving the chaotic filth lurking within him.

The Chaos Lord attempted to activate the Butcher's Nail within his skull to seek power, but under the dazzling light, Shaka was horrified to discover that the Butcher's Nail, which had never failed in ten thousand years, was now completely lifeless.

An even more terrifying truth was then revealed:

The "angel" who had guided him since the Horus Rebellion shed his divine disguise under the purification of the angel's light.

The veil of mystery was torn away, revealing the hideous deception within.

The so-called angel was actually the demonic Primarch, Angron.

"No!"

Shaka slammed his knees into the scorched earth.

The only sound during the communication was a completely disconnected hissing sound.

He looked around.

The World Eaters, stripped of their anger, were all lost and confused.

"No, it shouldn't be like this!"

He suddenly sprang up, letting out a heart-wrenching howl, and ran wildly toward the direction where the golden light had fallen.

Shaka was a World Eater who joined the 12th Legion after the Genna Massacre during the Great Crusade, and was later selected by the Father of Gene to become a captain in the 3rd Assault Company.

He participated in the Battle of Istvan III, later became a member of the Shadow Crusade, and witnessed the ascension ritual of Angron in Nukelia.

Although he was initially proud that his Primarch had become more powerful, this moment also tore something apart from Shaka's heart.

He saw through the true nature of the so-called gods and the root of this betrayal.

Chaos noticed the wavering in the heart of this World Eater company commander and began to corrupt his spirit. The once proud Shaka gradually became withdrawn and was consumed by pain and frustration.

This distortion manifests both as a growing bloodlust and as a deep remorse for being in a traitorous position.

On the eve of the invasion of Terra, Shaka experienced a final struggle of sanity.

The World Eater Lord attempted to slit his own throat, but the corruption of Chaos had seeped into his very bones.

He wished for death but could not.

With the defeat in the Siege of Terra, Shaka abandoned his comrades in the 3rd Assault Company, including Assault Sergeant Kosorax.

He used his comrades as a shield to cover his escape, and eventually completely degenerated into a berserker of Khorne.

The severe chaotic mutation drove him insane. Even more bizarrely, his hands could no longer be stained with blood, and even his own wounds would not bleed.

From then on, this World Devourer company commander was known as "Shaka the Bloodless".

In the 41st millennium, Shaka saw visions of Angron, which he called angels.

He warned Shaka that the berserker needed to kill Kosorax and take control of the Conqueror because he was the best and now he needed to prove himself better than Kosorax.

So Shaka led his warband to join an expedition organized by the Iron Lord Perturabo.

He caught up with the crew and joined the ranks of Kosorax, who was protected by the Iron Lord and was able to continue to control the 'Conqueror'.

The Iron Lord forcefully protected Kosorax's life, while Shaka subconsciously submitted to the more powerful authority.

He began to join the massacre.

One planet, two planets
As the angels descended, bathed in divine light, Shaka finally saw the cruel truth.

When Angron chose him over Kosorax to become captain of the Third Assault Company, it wasn't because he was superior; Kosorax was the Primarch's favorite offspring. But the Primarch deceived him, choosing the more obedient but foolish Shaka instead.

He wanted this loyal warrior and his other offspring to fall into the same abyss as himself.

The World Eater Legion was destroyed by the repeated blind obedience of its leaders. Angron could have saved his offspring or chosen to ignore it, but he chose to harm them, causing the legion to suffer and fall into the abyss.

As Shaka roared in realization of the truth, the angel did not respond and then vanished.

He started running.

The blood-red berserker burst into the open space.

It pierced through the compartment located at the junction of the ground and the western wall, tearing apart the surrounding walls and shattering slabs, bricks, and piles of stones.

The armored iron boots whistled past, crushing the writhing tentacles of an emperor's son into a bloody pulp, the appendages still reflexively spurting murky liquid.

The steel arm swept across, smashing the decoding device that the Dark Mechanic had been painstakingly maintaining amidst the gunfire into twisted scrap metal.

His charging body slammed into another World Eater like a battering ram, sending that poor wretch, who had also been drained of his power by rage, kneeling on the ground.

The emperor's son let out a sigh that was both painful and pleasurable.

The Dark Mechanical Priest let out a furious roar.

The dead World Eater fell to the ground and was buried by the howling dust.

But he can't hear.

For a moment, everything was silent.

Apart from the whistling wind scraping against my eardrums, which were already covered by sharp corners, there was no other sound.

Dust settled slowly in the gloomy air.

Shaka saw it.

A battlefield.

A completely one-sided massacre.

The roar of artillery fire on the front lines crushed the Chaos Warbands, along with their servants, into blood and gore.

On local battlefields, armored vehicles half-buried in the rubble suddenly opened their hatches.

The figures in black and red filed out, moving with practiced speed.

They are dark angels, the absolute elite of the legion.

They spread out in formation with breathtaking efficiency, raised their precision-engineered bomb guns, and methodically hunted down the Midnight Lords who were trying to resist using fear tactics as a last resort, moving through the ruined cabins.

Shockingly fast.

It was terrifyingly fast.

It was as if the blessings bestowed upon these nocturnal bats by Chaos were all false illusions, and the Midnight Lords were utterly powerless against the onslaught of the Dark Angels.

In the distance, molten beams of light and torrents of plasma erupted; a vast number of super-heavy armored vehicles appeared; and in close combat, precision-engineered power swords accurately severed the heads of traitors.
Crisp and neat.

A black tide of death dominated the entire battlefield.

The Chaos Titans are falling, the Chaos Astartes are dying.

Behind them, the cobalt-armored Ultramarines led the rescue efforts in the ruins, organized logistics, and pumped the most intense blood into the entire battlefield.

Meanwhile, their own Titans and their own Astral Army formed the most formidable firepower platform, and a heavy hammer that slowly advanced after the sharp blade tore through the enemy lines.

Each has its own role, and everything is interconnected.

This stands in stark contrast to the disorganized mob that fights its own battles.

Whether launching surprise attacks behind enemy lines or conducting frontal assaults, they dominated every inch of this land.

But Shaka's gaze lingered only for a moment on those outstanding and familiar warriors.

He ran towards the light.

Those soldiers in gold and red.

Holy Blood Angel.

Their anger was burning, their fury was boiling.

But this anger is only directed at the enemy, for there are radiant angels to guide them.

They are attacking a World Eater warband that is putting up a stubborn resistance.

Shaka could feel the familiar waves of blessing; the Blood God's grace was so terrifyingly familiar.

But how can a ferocious hunting dog created later compare to a natural hunter?

"Come!"

A blood angel adorned with black stripes let out a deafening roar.

"Meet me in a death trap!"

It was a monster that had completely unleashed its true self.

The traitorous warrior held an axe in each hand, but before he could even see what was about to happen, the monster ripped his head off his shoulder, and a near-immortal Space Marine was killed as easily as it had seemed.

Blood spurted from his torn neck, and before it could even touch the World Eater's armor, it lost its momentum and thrashed around its massive body like a snake with its head chopped off.

It was a one-sided massacre.

And at the very front of the gleaming assault team were burning angels.

He soared through the sky, easily crashing into the cockpit of a Warhound Titan, then emerged from the other side, his spear tip still dragging the Titan's pilot along with him.

Shaka had seen such a sight before.

He had seen it ten thousand years ago.

He strode forward, plunging into the vortex of battle.

He didn't know what he was doing; he was just trying to chase the light.

bump!
The first explosive shell hit Shaka's visor squarely, completely shattering his skull.

Before his body even fell, the barrage of fire had already been deployed.

Bombs and lasers roared in the darkness, firing at them from countless directions.

Shaka did not retaliate, and continued his charge despite the tremors from the bombardment of the explosive gun on his armor.

Even their own team members were shocked.

People on both sides were also firing shots and shouting.

The ground was flashed with the rapid light of gun barrels spitting fire. Countless tall bodies crashed down, torn to pieces by fire from multiple angles. Blood splattered on the walls and floors, and clumps of flesh were splashed on the basement dome.

The broken armor fragments scattered on the ground like coins, bouncing and shooting into the distance.

The offspring of Angron, the Third Assault Company of the World Eaters, were wiped out in less than sixteen seconds.

Gravel slips down —

Smoke swirled in the cold air, swirling around the twisted, piled-up corpses, while dark blood slowly seeped from the gaps in the shattered armor.

A massive figure emerged from the dust.

After the scarlet killers left, the hounds began to advance, gun barrels held level, ready to fire at any moment.

"Shoot each one in the head, then burn them clean."

Hal's voice came through the communication channel.

"Without exception, I don't care whether these traitors look completely dead or not."

"We'll melt that demonic engine with plasma, and then let the think tank deal with the possessed demon."

"Yes, my lord."

Hal stepped over the pile of corpses.

Short bursts of gunfire came from behind him; his soldiers were carrying out the execution procedure, using explosive pistols to blast the helmets of each corpse one by one.

He found the bloodless one.

Shaka lay on his back, most of his body crushed by the Power Punch. His right arm was severed at the elbow, and a blast hit his neck, blowing off his helmet and slicing off part of his skull.

He was bleeding, and his dying breaths created crimson bubbles in the pool of blood.

Its remaining eye stared blankly into the void.

He saw a war dog standing in front of him.

This must be a hallucination of death.

Shaka thought to himself that this was a flashback to the last moments of his life; he was bleeding, and this was what he saw on his deathbed, what he longed to see.

"Hal?"

He was panting, and blood froth slowly congealed into scabs on his torn lips.

Hal knelt down on one knee and met those clear eyes.

"Go to hell, Shaka."

The energy gauntlets glowed with a ghostly blue light as Hal unleashed his final strike.
-
"Fishing attempt failed again."

Ramses extinguished the psionic image in his hand and caught the falling fragments.

The war leader was beside him.

Arthur quietly directed the battle, keeping a close eye on the angels as they freely expressed themselves.

There was virtually no pressure.

how to say
It's like a modern army dealing with a bunch of bandits on the main battlefield.

"So, it seems Khorne can still tolerate it?"

He asked.

"Probably, at least he didn't just pull out an army of demons on the spot."

Ramses couldn't help but shake his head.

"The four gods all covet their rare, out-of-print figurines."

"By the way, Master Ya, have you found the planet where Fulgrim tricked Perturabo back then?"

After making a remark, Ramses suddenly changed his tune and asked a question.

"It's almost done; the final round of selection is underway."

Arthur directly entrusted the local battlefield to his subordinate commanders.

"I think Angron probably won't be able to come."

Ramses couldn't help but say.

The two of them and Lao Luo hid behind the scenes and chased the 'Conqueror' all the way, just waiting for the other side to show itself so that the three brothers could go up together and kill it.

As a result, not only did the other side not get worked up, but Khorne also didn't make any move.

Not right.

If the other side is in a bad mood, it's fine, but this situation is really troublesome.

After all, a dog that bites doesn't bark.

"I had the same feeling."

Arthur gazed at the star map.

They are currently gradually recovering the outer star sectors that were ravaged by Chaos. Thanks to the timely notification from the Dawnwing, Kadia and Agrippina, as well as the eighteen Astartes Defense Chapters, have not suffered heavy losses and are currently putting up fierce resistance.

Their final destination will be Cardia, but they'll have to tear apart these large fleets that are scattered around on the periphery first.

"Then I'll go to the target area first to look for clues. At least we know that Peturabo is still organizing a large army."

Ramses replied.

During this period, several war blacksmiths were arrested, and they were interrogated as needed.

However, one can only say that it truly lives up to its name as Chaos; I've heard that they're still fighting over dominance.

Meanwhile, Ramses, having failed to pursue the 'Conqueror' and feeling that he couldn't afford to waste time, decided to go to the scene of the incident where Perturabo's power was sacrificed in Fulgrim to ascend to demonic power, hoping to learn a few tricks.

After all, he felt that the ritual that could destroy the power of a Primarch could come in handy later.

"can."

Arthur had no objection to this.

"Then it's settled."

Ramses tossed the fragments to his companions, and then said...

"I'll lend you the think tank and your team for now. Remember to help me write reports."

"No, this time you have to write it yourself."

Arthur gave a slightly mischievous smile.

"For safety reasons, I need to stay on the front lines, while Lao Luo plans to go with you."

It's not that I can't save you, brother, it's just that the boss is about to parachute in and humiliate you.

"???"

(End of this chapter)