This is our Warhammer journey

Chapter 349 Draconian: Right? Is this even human?
Inside the third ring wall, the corridor of the fortress's core area
Under Aglaia's half-covered helmet, her raised index finger remained frozen in mid-air for a full five minutes.

She maintained this hand gesture throughout.

Her elite squad could keep quiet with just a few words; it included the Black Templars, the Grey Knights, and a Kashejin.

Only such elite troops are qualified to deal with the most dangerous and unexpected battle situations and pass on their valuable experience to the next troops. She was assigned to this team, and she will bring light to those areas ravaged by chaos.

Just like her name suggests, wherever Aglaia goes, radiance awaits her.

Aglaia chose this ambush location based on her almost exaggeratedly accurate precognitive abilities.

The Grey Knights are dispersed at their designated locations, working with the think tank to make final preparations for the counter-ritual they are about to unleash.

They removed the crimson soulstones from their tactical belts and began to channel the soul energy sealed within them—strategic resources personally bestowed by Lord Ramses, which allowed warriors to cast spells without sacrificing their own or their comrades' psionic energy.

These ritual spells can sever their souls' connection to their nerves, allowing the correct senses to return to these addicts, or rendering them completely unable to perceive any stimulation.

It is said that one of Abaddon's Thousand Sons sorcerers possessed similar magic and coerced a Slaanesh warlord into serving the Black Legion's cause.

ready!

Aglaia's eardrums suddenly picked up a series of eerie whistles, followed by another.

Beside her, the servo skull holding the oracle began displaying combat icons in the eyepiece, with the high-speed moving markers being detected turning red as it drew closer.

The entire kill squad instantly went into battle mode. The joints of every power armor made a hydraulic sound as they charged up, and the displays on their helmets showed the same battlefield data. The weapon systems had completed preheating and charging.

Aglaia raised her hand and adjusted the kill counter on the left side of her visor. It had reached 169, the record she left when she entered the previous fortress area.

The image of the fortress that had stood firm against the onslaught of the Khorne army flashed through her mind, and she prayed silently for them, praying that the fortress had not yet fallen.

The counter sounded to indicate that it had reached zero.

A sharp scraping sound suddenly tore through the air, accompanied by a strange whistling sound as airflow passed through the deformed cavity.

Something emerged from the wide road on the other side of the corridor.

A dazzling helmet, and human skin glistening with oil under the dust.

A son of an emperor rides a single-person motorcycle whose model is unidentifiable due to illegal modifications and the covering of flesh and blood.

Aglaia pressed down with her right hand.

The radiance of psychic energy shone forth.

A dazzling burst of psionic energy suddenly erupted, and golden ripples swept across the entire Slaanesh convoy in a fan shape. The moment the energy ripples touched the Emperor's Sons, these Emperor's Sons, who relied on their perfectly developed hypersensitive organs to break through layers of defenses, suddenly convulsed collectively.

The lord at the front of the line, whose motorcycle was traveling at 600 kilometers per hour, suddenly lost control and crashed into the corridor railing like a kite with a broken string.

Boom!

The vehicle, accelerated to its limit, was launched into the air upon impact, embedding itself deeply into the metal wall like a cannonball, with its rear end exposed on the outside. The rear wheels, adorned with blades and steel wires, spun like a chainsaw.

scoff!

A Chaos Warrior, caught off guard by the sensory derangement, was unable to dodge in time, and his upper body instantly turned into a bloody pulp upon contact with the wheel hub.

Whoosh!
With only his lower body remaining in control, the out-of-control motorcycle swept across the road with a sharp motion, directly sending two other out-of-control vehicles flying.

Flesh and blood flew everywhere.

The moment they plunged into the trap, the unruly convoy crashed together, human flesh and steel were crushed together by the powerful inertia, and finally turned to ashes in a series of explosions.

If this were in the civilized world, it would be another horrific car accident.

The deadly blizzard poured down into the passage, more deadly than the rubble that kept falling from the wall.

Lasers, explosives, and swaying blue plasma jets.

The warlord, still struggling with the life force he was clinging to, was the first to die; his head and shoulder were blown off.

Then came the lingering remnants, convulsing in agony, killed in the same way. Their convulsing corpses, along with the wreckage of their motorcycles, blocked the passage, blocking all the warriors behind them and making them live targets for the weapons being poured into the Sky Cavern.

The corpses fell one after another.

Some of the emperor's sons attempted to retaliate, but when they tremblingly extended their palms, they withdrew their hands due to the pain of the force of the blows. Some of the emperor's sons whose arms were broken even shed tears on the spot.

Meanwhile, a loader named Kashezin, who was not far from Agleia, continued to feed ammunition efficiently despite being hit directly in the chest and abdomen.

These drug addicts could only watch their own destruction unfold under the shadow of gunfire.

"Stop shooting!"

After ten minutes of precise barrage coverage, Aglaia shouted.

She gave Cardo Diego a look.

The Grey Knight commander, who had been unexpectedly promoted to "Lord of the Sentry" after being killed in action while on the edge of Terra Palace as the newly appointed Third Brotherhood friars commander, immediately understood.

The opponent quickly leaped into the cave, followed closely by the other gray knights, swords drawn.

The company commander plunged into the pale purple poisonous mist and slid rapidly down the steep slope that had been smoothed by countless weapons. The psychic energy field dispelled the sweet, corrupting aura, and the slope was littered with the remains of countless purple-gold armored figures.

A few people are still alive, groaning and struggling to climb out of the ruins piled with wreckage.

Diego will never give that chance.

His jetpack roared into action, and he hovered above the dying like the Grim Reaper, his psionic lightning drawing deadly arcs.

Upon meeting the Primarchs, they received an upgrade to their equipment. The Primarchs acknowledged their efforts over the past ten thousand years and expressed their hope that they would continue.

This time, however, the original body will stand beside them.

Ka La~
One after another, shrieking souls were extracted from Diego's perspective.

These souls were collected into an hourglass crafted by the Primarch, where these human traitors would face lengthy interrogations and a detailed extraction of their experiences.

Ramses forbids aliens or demons from interrogating humans, but the Grey Knights are not outsiders.

A guardian of the Holy Codex, clad in magnificent golden armor, came to his side.

Diego's gaze swept over the other man's armor.

Those members who received personal guidance from Lord Ramses and were entrusted with the mission of passing on knowledge were able to wear this glorious attire and had the right to communicate with Lord Ramses at any time.

Although Lord Ramses always said that this was to motivate the Grey Knights, and that it was a normal organization that would give such recognition, and that people shouldn't think about such trivial matters.

But it's truly an honor!
"There are no survivors."

Saint Fawei replied, holding in his hand the hourglass that held the souls of these wicked brethren. The last, faintly glowing black corpse lay on the ground, burning with corpse oil or other biological tissue, emitting a foul stench.

"Secondly, during the initial interrogation, we discovered that other members of the Sons of the Emperor's Warband had launched activities outside of the siege of the Peacock Fortress."

Diego turned around.

"Sir, has the purge been completed?"

Aglaia asked quickly.

The Grey Knights commander activated the helmet scanning array, and the kill counter in the goggles stopped at 69. Hundreds more Chaos Warrior corpses were scattered in other areas.

Through the psionic link, the battlefield assessment data of other team members was quickly compiled, and the souls were collected. In this area with severe warp interference, the Grey Knights' unique psionic talents had a great advantage.

A total of 252 people were involved, which is basically in line with the command's estimate.

Diego nodded slightly toward the communications array.

"This is Glory."

Aglaia pressed the communicator and said that as they drew closer, her blessed communication device was able to connect to the command center of the Amygdala Fortress.

"Radiant calling Advent, is communication clear?"

"The signal is clear, Guanghui, please speak."

"The Emperor's Son has been eliminated, and the enemy forces have been confirmed to be annihilated. Investigations show that there are still signs of Emperor's Son war gang activity in other areas. We request further instructions on whether to maintain our current leadership strategy?"

"Requirement, Glorious, continue the clearing mission. Glorious, the timing of your withdrawal is up to you. Note: Areas n1 to n19 will be subjected to orbital bombardment in ten minutes. Please take evasive action in time."

"Received, Apex."

Aglaia responded.

She ended the communication abruptly and turned to wave to the soldiers who were ready to go.

"Heading to the next location!"
-
Communication ends.

Alex, far away in the command center of the Swallow Fortress, exchanged a glance with the Dark Angel beside him. They both saw excitement in each other's eyes, showing no pressure whatsoever from the Emperor's son's intervention in battlefield affairs.

The emperor's son has gone into chaos.

This means that their offensive on the Peacock Fortress is no longer sustainable.

Your Highness is close to victory!
'I'm about to lose.'

Before the subspace rift on the outer ring of the Peacock Fortress, Fugrim was no longer the elegant figure he once was.

His once flawless teeth were now cracked, and his long, snow-white hair was whipping in the wind, with flickering flames at the ends, like a burning banner.

The purple phoenix surveyed the battlefield.

The dark angels are slaughtering his emperor's son on the plains before the rift.

Those lion's offspring, the knight king's guards, tore his legions to pieces.

He also recognized some familiar figures among them: those loyal descendants, who were carrying out cruel and merciless executions of their former brothers.

More Chaos warriors were fleeing in panic, shuttles poured out of the rift, and the scattered troops ran in all directions toward the edge of the plain.

Forgrim did not blame his offspring.

He understood that feeling.

He lowered his head, his eyes twisting with resentment.

That feeling of being cut off from everything, falling from a transcendent sky, and having to taste one's own mortal existence, and the pain that everything in the mortal world brings.

He hadn't experienced that in a long time; it would have made Fugrim realize his imperfections, aspects he couldn't accept.

Arthur not only puts himself in it, but also tries to pull everyone else in as well.

boom!
Another son of the emperor collapsed to his knees, unable to bear the return of his senses.

The Phoenix Lord raised his head, his previous resentment now perfectly concealed.

He suddenly grinned, revealing teeth stained pale pink with blood, and gave off a chilling smile.

He stared at the knight before him—

That solitary figure transcends all worldly entanglements.

He clearly yearned for beauty, longed for the ordinary, and was weary of and struggled with the chaos of the world. Yet, when Fogrem came before Arthur with his most sincere emotions and the most intense experiences, he received only a silent rejection.

The near-realistic illusion could not deceive him, nor could sweet words tempt him.

Distrust, disagreement, and refusal to compromise.

This knight lives entirely in his own world and only acts according to the path he has planned for himself.

Actions speak louder than words.

He held his ground firmly, neither advancing an inch nor allowing Forgrim to cross the line.

Who does this? Living such a hard life, can't you just relax and enjoy life?
They are the noblest creations in the world, and have every right to enjoy them.

"Ugh, this is so troublesome, it's so frustrating."

Fugrim stretched out his four arms, and the magic sword was raised once more.

"Let me experience it a little longer!"

He transformed into a purple afterimage and launched a surprise attack.

"After all, I will forget all of this."

Draconion, the divine weapon he had borrowed from his tragic nephew in an attempt to gain an advantage but which had failed to achieve anything, opened the eye on its hilt without anyone noticing, staring intently at the unmoving knight.

It did not feel hatred, or any special ability to kill it with a single blow.

At this moment, it was more astonished and bewildered than Fugrim himself.

What exactly exists in front of it?
　P.S.: There will be more tonight, although I can't guarantee it will be at 8 PM, but it will definitely happen. Over—

　　
　
(End of this chapter)