This is our Warhammer journey

Chapter 354 Steel Corrosion
The once strong and powerful body is dying, and the echoes stirred by the soul are fading.

His power is fading away.

Peturabo glared angrily.

Romulus released his grip.

The massive body lost all its power and slid toward the protective wall, then gradually disintegrated and turned into fluid.

When he lost everything, Peturabo felt his consciousness break free from the constraints of his body.

The rumble of naval guns echoed through the air; it was the sound of the Eternal Expedition, a sound Peturabo knew all too well.

In the few minutes that it lost its power, the glorious queen, belonging to the Son of Dorne, tore through the blockade of countless suicides and began to pursue her nemesis.

The light spears gradually overloaded the void shield, the macro cannons tore through the armor that could no longer repair itself, and the Steelblood was battered and bruised, fleeing in a sorry state amidst the protection of countless warships.

He heard Fricks's shouts and the bridge's commands to relocate.

He wanted to rebuke his sons who had fled from the Sons of Dorne, but he couldn't bring himself to speak.

He saw a familiar figure.

Peturabo slowly turned around.

They formed a circle around him.

Barabbas Danteok, Annouldi, Narek Dregul, Zinon, Quinn Milosa, Oliver Saxton, Kyle Warren, and every steel warrior Peturabo could name in an instant.

They were grabbing the heads of the traitors, Kroger's, those Iron Warriors who had boarded the ship.

Drenched with blood.

There was indifference, hatred, incomprehension, and regret.

The Iron Warriors stood beside the Overlord, unaffected by blood ties, firmly standing in opposition to the Father of Genetics.

For something greater, something far greater than Peturabo's wishful thinking.

They maneuvered the fleet, commanded the ground forces, and, relying on their experience from the Iron Lord and their unwavering resolve to never yield to him, they pushed their genetic father to the brink of defeat.

Indeed, the moment Peturabo voluntarily jumped aboard the Dawn, it signified that one group of steel warriors had lost to another.

One side was led by him, and the other side was led by Romulus.

This insult enraged him, twisting his face in fury.

"Perturabo."

The flash of light blinded his vision and banished everything that enraged Peturabo.

With a contorted expression, Peturabo looked up and saw directly the face of the person radiating light.

"Emperor!"

He shouted in fear and curiosity.

His mind went completely blank.

This presence pressed down on him like a collapsing mountain.

As the golden light faded, a man's face, previously hidden by his magnificent radiance, gradually became clear.

Face to face, so close, Peturabo could clearly see in his face and body an endless power, and also exhaustion.

A powerful man, strong and godlike, yet numb with worry for all humanity, stood before him at this moment.

He smiled.

His smile was so broad and boundless, it seemed to reflect everything.

"I……"

Peturabo murmured.

The pressure his father placed on his otherwise steely heart was immense.

Even the vortex at the center of the galaxy that moves the stars pales in comparison. At this moment, Perturabo's deepest thoughts are revealed in the golden light. Everything about him, everything he has, is as easy to read as words on paper.

He looked up at the man, that golden yet cold sun, and then humbly knelt down.

Until this moment, he was still unaware.

"Father."

Even kneeling on the ground, Peturabo appeared taller than most people.

But he still knelt down, just like he did ten thousand years ago, when he knelt before his father on a high mountain, swearing allegiance.

"I am the Emperor of Terra, and the Emperor of all mankind."

The emperor spoke, his voice growing louder and clearer, echoing distinctly in Peturabo's ears.

“You are Peturabo, my Lord of Steel.”

"Yes, I am!"

Peturabo said hastily.

"You are no longer."

The emperor reached out and put his hand on his shoulder.

Peturabo shed tears.

The emperor looked at him with a compassionate expression, and deep in his eyes was a deep sadness.

He also cherishes this hard-won peace.

The Emperor said.

"When I first saw you, you were as brave and fearless as I had intentionally imagined."

The Emperor said.

“I see an indomitable will, an unwavering determination. I know you will not give up, you will grow and overcome any difficulty. Those tedious things are challenges you must overcome on the path to honor, and you will not shirk them,” the Emperor said.

“I see these qualities in you. As your father, I have given you a task that is far more difficult than that of most of your brothers, not because I see you as worthless, but quite the opposite. I believe that no one else could do these things except you.”

The Emperor said.

“I have many tasks, tasks that require a son who can never tire, never yield, and never have feelings to complete. I have entrusted him to you, believing you to be like me, and that you will be my master of steel—”

"But you're not."

The emperor's expression was so sorrowful.

“I shouldn’t have treated you the way I asked you to. I made you waste your soldiers to prove something that didn’t need to be proven, and then get angry when no one noticed or appreciated your self-sacrifice, and then vent that anger on the people around you.”

The apology, separated by millennia, can only be expressed with the help of others.

Undoubtedly, it was too late.

"It's too late, Father."

Peturabo covered his face and wept, an uncertain bitterness beginning to engulf him.

The emperor overestimated his son, Peturab, who did not live up to the emperor's expectations.

Yes, it's too late.

"Then get up, my child."

The sadness in the emperor's expression was once again hidden, replaced by a coldness, as if he had made some kind of decision.

So much so that Peturabo wondered if he had ever seen that expression on him before.

"Forward, Peturabo."

The emperor spoke, pointing ahead.

"forward."

"Am I going to die?"

Peturabo gazed at the boundless golden light.

At this moment, he clearly understood what those four 'brothers' represented.

Even emperors cannot control their choices; even the mighty emperor can only hope for what they are doing now.

"Everyone will pay the price for their actions."

The Emperor looked at Perturabo, then pointed into the distance, where the four twisted and powerful entities were visible, his voice filled with certainty.

"You, me, and them."

"As a father, I can accept you, but as a human being, I cannot forgive you."

The Emperor spoke thus, and opened his arms to Peturab.

Finally, he felt this unsuspecting acceptance; love emanated from the emperor and enveloped his found son. Perturab was bathed in it, and once again, after ten thousand years, he felt a true sense of belonging.

Peturabo cheered without reservation, obeyed the emperor's words, and then went forward.

How ironic.

He once rushed to his father, eager to escape the mundane and ordinary, and was willing to play the role he resisted for it.

But deep down he still longed for love, and even the most mortal could not warm the heart of a demigod, let alone a father and brothers who were each burdened with responsibilities and unable to give their all.

The steel ultimately didn't receive enough care and rotted away over time.

"grown ups."

Danteok looked at the small metal fragments in his hand, casually tossed them away, and asked Romulus beside him.

"Please advise."

Romulus put away the Stone of Mogta, glanced at Peturabo one last time, and took a deep breath.

We cannot relax now; we must always be vigilant about the possibility that the Four Gods might not be able to handle the situation.

They must ensure a complete victory in this battle.

A series of commands came from his mouth.

"Organize various battleship groups to assist the Eternal Expedition in encircling and destroying the Ironblood, and make every effort to sink the enemy. The escort fleet should lower its trajectory and conduct indiscriminate bombing of all occupied areas. Each advisor can directly take over the command of the surface defense."

"Yes!"

"A further notice to all units operating outside the Eye of Fear: the Dawn Fleet has achieved victory."

Romulus paused abruptly, something burning hot swirling in his throat, eventually transforming into sparks that fell into the cold, iron-like words.

"It's time for our enemies to pay the price."

He gripped the reins of power and turned around.

His cloak billowed behind him like a burning battle banner, and he returned to his throne.

"Yes, my lord!"
-
Victory is decided.

On the ground, Arthur, gripping the blade, stopped paying attention to his companion.

But he still watched as the sky, filled with thick clouds of smoke, was pushed aside as the continuous stream of light spears fell to the ground.

His eyes revealed focus.

Their opponents can be speculated upon with the deepest and most sinister thoughts, so now is not the time to relax.

alert.

Before victory is truly in hand, no amount of vigilance is excessive.

(End of this chapter)