This is our Warhammer journey

Chapter 319 The Wrath of the Iron Lord

Ten thousand years ago, when Peturabo was still rolling around in the mud with his steel warriors, he never imagined that he would be where he is today.

There is no doubt that he has been making progress all along.

He was certain that even with the resources of the empire at its peak back then, he would have difficulty gaining an advantage in this battle, because he had already surpassed his past self.

but--

After the intelligence from the Empire's rear, brought back by Frick, finished scrolling across his retina, the Lord of Steel fell into an unusual silence.

In terms of religion, Dawnwing, relying on the doctrines of the Holy Blood Angels and the new Ohm Messiah, began to squeeze out the traditional state religion and the Mechanicus. On the one hand, it controlled the population under the state religion, and on the other hand, it controlled the production capacity of the Mechanicus.

Politically, the Dawn Wings rely on an efficient civil service system built around Astartes to intervene in the affairs of various planets, and airdrop groups of 'political officials' to gain military control over the armed command centers of various empires.

In dealing with the Throne World, Dawnwings did not hesitate to withhold eleven taxes and acquire ownership of the Warehouse Galaxy, pouring all resources into the war against the Iron Warriors' invasion.

The war was very different from what Peturabo had initially envisioned; he never imagined he would be fighting such a ruthless monster.

So this is how the Empire operates?

So, they actually had this status?

So it turns out there really are Primarchs who can hold all political and religious power in their hands, intercept taxes from the Throne World, allow the Astartes to interfere in government affairs, and establish a state within a state without incurring the Iron Fist?
Playing with religion, engaging in Astartesian interference in politics, and establishing separatist regimes—aren't these all just jumping around on the emperor's sore spots?
Peturabo couldn't help but recall those days.

As a Primarch with an exceptional talent for reading people, he was able to sense the Emperor's unwavering resolve.

The emperor's goal is to create an ideal world for mortals, the weak, and the oppressed. After clearing away all obstacles and hidden dangers in the galaxy, he will hand over this empire entirely to mortals.

Therefore, he never considered the future of Astartes from the beginning.

Of course, the lifespan of the Astartes is limited. Once production ceases, the number of Astartes will naturally decrease over time. Peturab is relatively optimistic about how the Emperor will handle the Astartes.

But that didn't stop him from feeling disgusted.

The Astartes conquered the world, but in governing it, they were forced to retire after their success, without even being given a seat in the Terran Council.

Why do you think the Primarchs are so obsessed with that Warmaster? It's because Astartes has nothing left but the honorary title of Warmaster.

Even Horus didn't dare mention it to the Emperor back then; he only dared to carefully lick the candy the Emperor gave him, not daring to ask for more.

Everyone was on guard against their empire's largest armed force.

The Imperial Guard looked down on them from the start. Having experienced the Terran Wars, they never believed in these bio-weapons. Makado, that genius, even created the Assassin's Court to eliminate the Primarch's threat.

And now?

Perturabo's gaze swept over the Dawn Emblems on the table, the various propaganda doctrines, the statues and video recordings of his four brothers, and finally settled on a corpse belonging to the original Astartes, placed in a petri dish.

These new Space Marines are stronger, smarter, and have greater warp resistance than the older Firstborn Space Marines.

And, most importantly—

The original Space Marines possess an infinite lifespan.

This means that, as an extension of Primarch authority, the Astartes' rule will become endless.

Perturabo's expression immediately became as distorted as if he had been attacked by Mortarion.

And then there was the Emperor's gaze that constantly surrounded them, almost bathing the four of them in golden light from the perspective of the warp—a level of attention that even Horus had never experienced.

The more Peturabo thought about it, the more bitter he became.

Why didn't the Emperor give him as much support when he led the Iron Warriors? If he had had this much support back then, would he have turned a messy war into internal strife? Would he have even needed to rebel?
More lenient agreements, more favors, more powerful offspring, and an empire that obeys them.

The emperor could have given it to him, but he didn't.

The emperor favored these brothers.

"How is the communication with the Chaos War Gang? How much of their influence remains under our control?"

Peturabo took a deep breath and then asked.

He also knew clearly that things couldn't continue like this. He either had to withdraw his troops or, before the enemy became stronger, use his still relatively intact forces to launch a concentrated attack on the enemy's command center.

“Aside from the ‘Oathbearers’ warband established around Kosorax, other Chaos warbands have seen a large number of splits and independent actions.” This was said by Baben Falk, who, due to his deep contact with the warp and his status as a warband leader, had cultivated a good reputation over the past ten thousand years and was thus assigned by Peturabo to handle the Iron Warriors’ diplomacy.

Although Falk felt ashamed of this, he also knew that this was the nature of chaos.

They're just warband lords; they can't possibly command a Chaos Warband.

Perturabo's previously criticized eleven-draw strategy now has no deterrent effect on the Chaos side. For these Chaos Astartes, dying without collecting enough sacrifices to please the gods is truly the end.

So they'd rather have some fun on a planet before they die than obey Peturabo's orders again.

"Ah."

Peturabo nodded, then looked at Fricks, who had been operating on the front lines and behind enemy lines.

"Our offensive has been severely hampered in the Scalus Sector in the northern region. The Scalus Sector fleet has not chosen to split its forces and is now embroiled in a prolonged struggle and stalemate in the surface war in the offensive area."

"The Astartes mobile fleets, led by Space Wolf and Black Templar respectively, have been patrolling around the Eye of Fear, constantly attacking and suppressing scattered Chaos Warbands."

"At the Gate of Cadia in the southern region, the main force of the Dawn Fleet has successively completed the cleanup and expulsion of the wandering Dark Mechanicus fleet and has begun to gather on the planet Cadia Fortress."

Fricks reported methodically.

Although they longed for another back-and-forth battle with the Sons of Dorne, the Black Templars did not engage the Iron Warriors in this war. Instead, they relied on their massive forces and the equally enormous Space Wolves to concentrate their attacks on the weaker Warbands and the planets within the Eye of Terror.

Both Space Wolves and Black Templar are highly offensive chapters, and they can easily crush opponents with weaker forces.

At the same time, for some reason, these two chapters are extremely resistant to the warp, enabling them to enter the Eye of Terror and launch concentrated attacks on the few productive planets in the Chaos Realm.

"If Fogrem can launch an attack."

Peturabo frowned as he stared at the starry sky, then gestured with his hands.

He initially didn't want to pay attention to his brothers, but now he has no choice but to rely on their strength.

"grown ups."

Falk's Adam's apple bobbed between his gear-inlaid collarbone as he struggled to squeeze out the report.

"According to the Phoenix Lord Adoron's last report, Adoron's reconnaissance team reported back that after Lord Forgrim conquered planet X-2179, he and the Princes discovered an ancient artifact. They found that it could create completely realistic illusions in the real universe, and thus began the Terra unification war."

"Terra Unification War?"

"Yes."

Falk replied, his words tinged with a hint of incomprehension.

"The Emperor is played by Forgrim himself, the local people are played by the masses he liberates, and the various warlords play the warlords of Terra."

"They injected 600 million tons of chemical reagents into the planet's atmosphere, and the entire planet is currently in a state of frenzy."

"All our attempts to make contact have failed; without exception, the troops that landed on the surface have fallen into hallucinations and joined in the revelry."

The holographic projection suddenly switched to a reconnaissance view, showing the entire planet's atmosphere shrouded in neon-colored poisonous fog.

On the earth, mortals in tattered costumes inhaled and exhaled air laced with stimulants, tears streaming down their faces as they sang praises of liberation, as if they wanted to cry out every last drop of moisture from their bodies in order to chase after those golden figures. Meanwhile, the emperor's sons, painted with gold, were fighting each other, draping the skin or tendons of the corpses over their bodies, and standing on the corpses, enjoying the cheers of victory, bathing in the hall of glory that the mortals had laid out for them.

If we're talking about having fun, these people who believe in Sinai really know how to have fun.

The candlelight flickered all at once, several candles went out, and wisps of blue smoke rose. The outer door opened and closed again without the blacksmiths of the war reacting at all.

They're only realizing it now; it's a bit too late.

A strange, calm pressure permeated the room.

Fricks realized something, sensing the presence beside him diminishing, and lowered his head.

"Fricks, Falk, Kosolax stay behind."

After a long silence, Peturabo gave his order, his pale face expressionless.

(End of this chapter)