This is our Warhammer journey

Chapter 333 Let's Set Off Together (Two Chapters Combined, Last Day Please Give Me Some Monthly Tickets, Waaaaah)

The top of the city wall was lined with dense troop formations, and silver lines made of various types of armor shimmered slightly within the intersecting defensive lines. The afterglow of the setting sun shone on the battlements, staining the metal surface blood-red, and in the distance, black smoke rose from the battlefield.

The intensity of the Battle of Cardia was unprecedented. In just over a month, both sides suffered countless casualties. Although no Primarch has fallen yet, both sides have lost a significant amount of their armed forces.

Click, click!
The tracks of the Draco armored personnel carrier rolled over the blood-soaked mud, and fully armed sergeants precisely sorted through the corpses.

Whenever another wave of attacks launched by the Chaos forces is repelled, the logistics troops work overtime to clear away the piles of corpses in the trenches and on the city walls.

The enemy troops burned the bodies on the spot, while our side collected the remains and disposed of them to prevent them from being contaminated by chaos. The wounded were transferred to medical bunkers in the rear area or to field medical stations set up in various camps, depending on the severity of their injuries.

The line of wounded was strewn with blood, so many that it made one feel dizzy and disoriented.

The air was thick with the pungent smell of disinfectant mixed with the stench of rotting flesh. Most of the wounded on the stretchers remained silent, with only occasional groans breaking the oppressive stillness.

Dang rang~
A young medic suddenly knelt down, his eyes behind his mask bloodshot, until his comrades dragged him aside to rest.

The battlefield medics are busy taking blood and organ tissues from ordinary wounded people. They then put these into petri dishes with pre-recorded gene sequences for comparison, and then cultivate replacement tissues to repair non-central nervous system organs.

Those with central nervous system damage will have mechanical devices used to replace their nerve function and will then be transferred to the rear to join the logistics troops.

As for Astartes.

The original Astartes now only has two stages: complete and dead; the state of being severely injured is almost nonexistent.

Even the most severe injuries can be repaired in a short time with the continuous repair of stem cells, and the moment Belisarius's furnace burns out also signifies the end of an Astartes' life.

On the transport platform, the bodies of heroes, whether Astartes or ordinary soldiers, were neatly arranged on the railway carriages and transport planes heading to the rear.

The medics conducted a final check, carrying heavy testing equipment to scan the bodies to confirm their death. Once confirmed, the bodies were sorted by robotic arms and piled up in different departments.

All armor and weapons that affect transportation and load capacity will be discarded and piled up in a minimum recycling area, because these are not important compared to human lives.

The pharmacists dispatched by each warband were busy recovering gene seeds and Sacred Hymn pituitary glands, as well as all organs that had not yet died, and conducting mental examinations on those comrades who had been resurrected.

As the war continued, the deaths of countless people created a heavy emotional echo over Cardia.

Psionic detectors at various command centers indicate that the subspace influence across the entire galaxy is slowly increasing.

The Wings of Dawn wouldn't be so foolish as to reclaim souls corrupted by Chaos, so in those areas where Chaos was gradually influencing them, the boundary between reality and illusion became increasingly blurred.

Compared to the four gods who were still calculating gains and losses, a certain being, who was far wealthier than them but could not control his wealth due to his dissatisfaction with his own status and the fact that his left brain attacked his right brain due to a split personality, seized the opportunity to reach a consensus in this war fought for humanity.

There have been multiple sightings of Astartes with only the pituitary gland remaining, persisting in combat under extreme conditions until the arrival of the mobile forces.

Even though the Belisarius Furnace had reached its limit, and its limbs had even suffered large-scale necrosis due to deactivation, they were still able to continue to fight back in the areas occupied by the Chaos Enemy.

Even if the body is destroyed, as long as the head is intact, the person can retain a clear consciousness, and after the limbs are reattached, they can even continue to move. Such an unorthodox discovery led think tanks and pharmacists to suspect that the person was possessed by a demon.

Click~
The sound of gears meshing rang out one after another, and the automatic door of the Flamewing base slowly opened.

When Azrael brought the day's deployment summary into the command center, Arthur was inside, standing in front of a Thinker, deep in thought.

Azrael glanced instinctively at the access control information that recorded people coming and going.

No.

He didn't care.

Everyone was already used to His Highness's elusive nature, and the Dark Angels had figured out their own patterns of identification, so there was no chance of any misunderstandings.

In peacetime, His Highness uses the main gate; in wartime, His Highness never uses the main gate.

The rest are definitely demons in disguise.

A shift in gaze revealed a golden-red angel leaning against a window.

Karna was also there.

The remaining were the Grey Knights, who were most concerned about the demon incident. They all avoided looking at Arthur, as if in their eyes this reserved knight was a shining sun.

They had all heard the strange reports from the front lines and were preparing to set the tone for handling such unusual events.

"Was Ramses' research completed ahead of schedule?"

Karna asked.

They were somewhat prepared for this kind of abnormality, and they were sure that the person was fine. They just didn't expect that Old Man Huang, who had been in a state of dementia for many years, could still move.

Of course, everyone still didn't really want Old Man Huang to continue moving.

After all, history has proven time and again that Huang Laohan was exceptionally gifted in using his extraordinary wisdom. Whether it was useful or not is unknown, but it certainly raised his teammates' blood pressure.

Well, this shows that Magnus is indeed his biological son.

"More or less, we'll discuss the specifics after the war is over."

Arthur first compiled a brief report based on his knowledge of the warp and distributed it to minimize the panic within the various chapters regarding the unusual event of 'comrades being suspected of being possessed by demons'.

Then, the task was to unify these members who had exhibited abnormalities, reorganize them into a temporary structure, and put them directly under the command of the command center. They were then separated from their colleagues who still had doubts and continued to engage in normal combat operations.

【receive. 】

【clear. 】

We will comply.

Responses from the leaders of various battle groups and companies quickly came through the communication channel.

The emblem of the Dark Angels Chapter lit up first, followed by the Blood Angels and the Black Sanctuary. One chapter emblem after another flashed in the projection, like sparks spreading across the plains.

After confirming the status of each battle group, Arthur looked away from the screen, raised his hand to close the last communication window, thus ending this unexpected situation.

He always kept his word and had enough patience to explain things. He had a thorough understanding of the powers being used by the Dawn Wings, and his warriors trusted him greatly.

"Are you planning to stay on the front lines for a while longer?"

Seeing that his companions had already dealt with the unexpected incident, Karna asked again.

"Go to the Antarctic landing site first, and bring the Deathwing and Blood Angels main force with you."

Arthur nodded, his gaze sweeping over the various hotspots marked on the strategic map.

"I can be there anytime."

He was not only able to control the course of the war as a battlefield commander, but also able to enter a battlefield at any time to reverse the balance of power.

This is his advantage.

"That works."

Karna nodded and left the command center without delay.

The automatic doors opened and closed, swallowing his figure into the shadows of the corridor.

"Your Highness, this is a report from the rear."

After glancing at the fiery meteor rising on the monitor screen, Azrael distributed the report before stepping forward.

Arthur picked up the report and quickly skimmed through it.

The holographic projection cast shadows on his face, highlighting his slightly furrowed brows.

He quickly spotted a familiar name in the roster.

Alex Kane.

One of the volunteers from the second-line troops.

"Human beings are not meant to be limited to this."

Arthur sighed softly.

He returned the report to Azrael, who was still pondering the meaning of the words, and then walked toward the holographic projection that was arranging the current state of the battlefield.

"Pick up Orlando."

After a brief moment of thought, Arthur turned around again in front of the holographic projection and summoned the Black Templar Marshal who was with him.

Orlando, Marshal of the Black Templar Expeditionary Force, was also the first Black Templar member to embark on this cosmic journey with them.

Since the beginning of the Dawn Expedition until now, this Black Templar force has always been under the command of the Dawnwings, responding to the Primarchs' actions at all times.

Before long, a blood-soaked warrior appeared on the projection.

"Is there any problem, sir?"

The black-clad marshal inquired.

Compared to his low emotional intelligence at their first meeting, this marshal has changed a lot.

Dealing with internal conflicts within the fleet, managing interpersonal relationships, and ensuring the mental well-being of his comrades in battle—after losing his partner, this marshal, who was focused on the war, slowly picked up things he had previously paid little attention to.

"Look at it."

Arthur reached out and sent the roster over.

Inside the command center, dozens of officers were busy at their respective terminals, oblivious to this subtle exchange. Many couldn't comprehend the weight of that name—

Alex Kane, in the vast and complex array of matters, was nothing more than a trivial trifle.

No one in the command center knew.

Arthur's gaze returned to Orlando, passing over countless faces and bustling figures.

The marshal in the holographic projection was staring at that name, his Adam's apple bobbing slightly.

Orlando knew; they had fought side by side for thirty years, from burning cities to frozen wastelands, those memories as clear as yesterday.

Inside the command center at that moment, the Black Templar Marshal was the only one who could understand the meaning of the name.

“Azrael, reassign three members who are skilled in data processing.”

Arthur said to his squire.

Orlando looked up and stared directly into Arthur's eyes.

"grown ups?"

he asked.

"I said, you remember."

Arthur gave his instructions.
-
As the convoy traversed the rocky wasteland, these Star Guardians gained a clearer understanding of the predicament facing Antarctica.

They had never seen such a sight before.

The road ahead was blocked, and supernatural flames burst forth from inside a piece of warship debris that had fallen from the sky, forming an eternally burning torch.

This is a fragment five kilometers long, taller than those ground fortresses, with intricate eight-pointed star emblems on its surface, forming a massive blasphemous mark that submerged an area of ​​hundreds of kilometers.

Even from a great distance, the heatwave was still unbearable.

Through the observation window, the convoy commander could also see some demons forming shapes within the sea of ​​fire.

They did not attack the convoy that was so close by; they merely glanced at it greedily from afar before rushing into the wreckage of the warship engulfed in flames.

They were incredibly frenzied, much like hyenas that had been starving for a long time and were fighting with their own kind for food, leaving billowing smoke trails behind them.

At the edge of the ruins, there were smoking corpses everywhere.

White ash and oily rain fell at the same time.

Ahead, through the brown and yellow smoke, they saw a huge building with numerous outer bunkers and defensive lines. Some wondered if it was their encampment, while others quickly determined it was a large supply distribution center.

The eastern distribution center, one of the eight distribution centers of the Antarctic Star landing site, was mostly submerged in flames.

As an attendant, Alex heard the report from the survivors after the commander connected to the battlefield communications.

The enemy made a mistake in responding to the sudden attack from the Chaos forces. The commander misjudged the enemy's attack focus and deployed too many troops on the outer defensive perimeter. As a result, the anti-air defenses were breached by the concentrated attack of nearly three thousand Astartes. Then, the anti-air defense network failed, and a fragment carrying a massive amount of Chaos power fell.

This is not the fault of the commander of the guards.

Compared to the fortresses scattered across the planets that inspire despair in the enemy just by looking at them, the advantage of the Chaos faction is that they can concentrate a large force at any time to launch a concentrated attack on a certain direction. The existence of small portals also greatly enhances the opponent's mobility.

In the ongoing tug-of-war, it's understandable that the fortress commander gradually fell behind the enemy's movements, resulting in a large number of troops piling up at the front line.

Simply put, it's like being stretched numb.

Alex could see the problem, but even if he were to play, he would inevitably make mistakes due to lack of energy.

They were just ordinary people.

"Change the line."

When the effects of chaos caused long-distance communication devices to completely fail, he offered his suggestions.

They couldn't make out the true size and shape of the building they were approaching; smoke filled the air and covered the entire sky, blurring everything except the fortifications and the turrets in front.

What's most alarming is that there's hardly any sound of fighting coming from the area.

This means that this 100,000-strong force is very likely to never return.

"We'll go around to the west."

Alex had reviewed the deployment of the Antarctic landing site, and he remembered that there was an Astartes force stationed in that area.

Their unit wasn't a frontline force, and in terms of the quality of its personnel, it couldn't possibly fight the demons and the Chaos traitors to the death.

"Yes."

The commander gave the other party a meaningful look and quickly accepted the suggestion.

They took a longer route, following a new transport route that passed through looted or abandoned warehouse districts.

Shells began to land two or three kilometers east of the convoy, kicking up rubble and debris. The Void Shield installed on the train protected the convoy from being covered and annihilated by the fire.

Each tremor of the ground was accompanied by a deafening roar and explosion, as well as flying dust and debris.

However, this hammer-like bombardment reassured everyone.

There is still fighting here.

This is the outer defense zone of the Southeast Distribution Center. Please verify.

Not long after, a notice entered the contemplative group of the convoy.

The commander quickly handed over the verification code at the political commissar's instruction.

The next set of information evaluation results has been completed. Please wait.

As the train approached, the towering gates of the fortress quickly opened.

Finally, they encountered the outer defenders: a well-equipped Legion of the Astrail, a Mechanicus Legion, and a company of White Archons.

Their defenses are well-designed.

Support weapons were placed behind dug firing craters and trenches, as well as terracotta bunkers. Wooden stakes were driven into barbed wire and scattered nails, and landmines were mounted below to stop approaching armored targets. Promethium pipes ran along the edge of the city wall to connect to underground cavities, ready to deal with attacks from underground at any time.

The commanders of the armed forces inside the fortress came out to greet them, and after noticing Alex's identity, they asked the troops to wait a moment.

This further convinced the reserve force commander of the political commissar's exceptional qualities.

Less than half an hour later, he saw a Stormbird land on the other side of the helipad and another Space Marine force appear.

It is the Black Sanctuary.

The commander made the judgment.

He wasn't wearing a helmet and was bald. The black-haired Templar walked up to Alex, saluted, and then shook hands with him.

Although they began to talk, they were too far apart for the commander to hear what they were saying.

“I know what that expression means, Orlando.”

Alex said.

"Give up, sir, my mind is made up."

"I know."

“My deployment is complete. They have given me command of an area, which I am very grateful for. I will never back down. That is where I want to go.”

"I know."

"Returning to the front lines to fight again, as the war has completely consumed me, I want to experience the feeling of taking action one last time, Lord Orlando. I have nothing more to offer humanity."

"Of course I know."

Orlando nodded, clearly expecting what the political commissar had said.

"So what are you doing?"

Alex noticed the calm Orlando and didn't think the other man would do anything so despicable as to pack him up and take him to the rear.

The Black Templars, who place extreme importance on honor, would not do such a thing.

"Walking with you".

Orlando said, and then, to the other party's astonishment, gave an appointment.

There was no suitable solution; any choice would be an unforgivable insult to Alex's pure heroism.

"Lord Arthur believes that you are far too underqualified to command a reserve force."

He handed Alex a letter of appointment.

"I think so."

He muttered to himself.

Alex glanced up and scanned the appointment details.

That was the command of thirteen air defense facilities and twenty-two fortresses in the entire southeast region.

Araks Kane.

The first to welcome back the original body.

The crimson of the Broken Sword and the holy rose, along with the sacred silver, will forever accompany the Wings of Dawn.

He participated in the joint operation between mortals and Astartes after ten thousand years, and led an entire force to complete its transformation. He was also responsible for the handover and training of weapons with the Astragalus forces along the route during the Dawn Expedition.

He was involved.

He walked the entire route.

No one has had a richer experience than him, having gone through hundreds of years of battles and personally participated in the changes brought about by the Primarch.

On those battlefields where Astartes dominated all eyes, it was these mortals who led another group of mortals in silent dedication and sacrifice, consolidating their gains and constantly adapting to joint operations with Astartes.

He is not weak.

He is strong.

It's just that I lack energy.

So he only needs a little help to make up for the lack of energy brought about by old age, so that he can make full use of his experience and lead a war to victory with this help.

Rather than so-called favoritism and inexplicable concern.

Arthur knew this from the beginning.

Throughout their lives, generations were born, lived, and died of old age, yet the war continued.

War is everything to them.

"Commissar Alex Kane, appointed by Arthur Pendragon, leader of the Broken Steelwings and Lord of Knights, you will serve as commander of the Sixth Defense Force, responsible for the eastern and southern areas of the Antarctic landing site and the defense of the Central Fortress of the Apex constellation."

Orlando's orders were never to persuade a brave warrior to leave the battlefield where he was needed, but to enable the warrior to fully utilize his abilities.

He raised his hand in a gesture of respect.

"Sixth Defense Force, Marshal Orlando of the Thirteenth Expeditionary Force of the Black Templars, obeying orders."

The political commissar fell silent, then raised his hand tremblingly to return the salute to Orlando.

He then accepted the appointment.

His body straightened up, as if he had been injected with unprecedented power in that instant.

Summon the troop commander.

Alex quickly outlined his responsibilities, then provided a list, completing the handover of tasks.

Then confirm with the command center.

Alex picked up the hardwired microphone from the hook, the long cable lashing against his breastplate.

Confirmation complete.

Finally, they boarded the fighter jet.

The Stormbird Heavy Transport's hull opens, inviting warriors forward; the Void Shield Generator and Adamantite Frame Structure provide unparalleled security to anyone.

"I wish you a resounding victory."

Alex glanced one last time at the windowsill, examining the battlefield data handed to him, a series of figures flashing in his eyes, and muttered to himself.

"May you triumph on the battlefield, and may the glory of mankind endure forever."

"You too, Political Commissar."

Orlando responded by turning to the large bench at the rear of the cockpit for the Space Marines, fastening his seatbelt, and then ordering the crew to move out.

Fighter jets take off.

Heading towards that building that connects heaven and earth.
-
At this moment, there is nothing but the scorching and noisy darkness.

The Central Fortress of the Apex constellation is a dazzling area on the Antarctic Star landing site. Facing north, it is 1,100 meters high and 400 meters thick, like a natural chasm between the salient of the Antarctic Star landing site and the lines of the Chaos army.

Despite the intense flashes and distant roars of the relentless bombardment of those areas echoing through the burning night sky, the anti-aircraft artillery fortifications facing the flames of the Khorasan War still stood firm.

Debris falling from the sky ignited the wall of fire, which then covered the entire horizon beneath the gloomy sky, casting a deep, heavy shadow over the fortress like a storm.

Amidst the raging flames, the temperature had already exceeded forty degrees Celsius and was still rising.

Steam carrying ash rose from the dark, smooth barrel and armored shell of the fortress cannon.

The Void Shield, operating at maximum power, shimmered and shifted in the night sky.

The chaotic army surged ahead of it, and countless scattered corpses piled up at the edge of the fortress. The anti-aircraft array continued to fire fiercely into the sky, constantly shattering the fragments that carried the offerings of chaos and diminishing the sacrifices obtained by countless chaotic lackeys at the cost of their lives.

The sky, the earth, and everyone could see the prominence of the Fortress of the Apex.

It was a curtain wall, a fortress, a resistance forged from countless flesh and blood bodies that the Chaos Gods so desperately craved.

It cannot be penetrated.

Stand firm.

　P.S.: I'd like to recommend a book to my friend: "The Witch's Wandering Alchemist and Merchant Log." Check it out if you're passing by!

(End of this chapter)