This is our Warhammer journey

Chapter 429 Vashtor: We Can't Stop! (Two Chapters Combined)

The incoming barrage of fire hit the Aegis system mounted on the bridge, making the already brightly lit bridge, designed out of a lack of security, even brighter than daytime.

The Void Shield absorbed the bombardment's energy with all its might amidst a wide-ranging strobe effect.

The defenders had no choice but to suppress their fear and respond. Some systems locked onto targets using automatic threat identification, while the Chaos Artisans, Dark Mechanicus, and Demon Hosts manually operated the rest. Vashtor, seeking a sense of security, deployed its cannons in various layered areas of the bridge and equipped its weapon arrays to launch a massive defensive attack.

The entire warship seemed to come alive, and the mechanical creations that Vashtor had meticulously designed, like the death guards of the gods, which could somewhat resist the effects of reality, also roared at the same time.

They tried to tear apart and smash the thing on the other side of the warship that instilled fear in everyone instinctively.

"Stop them! Servants, stop them!"

"Vashtor shouted."

"You are only allowed to stay at your posts!"

boom!
A powerful shockwave rushed towards us.

The demon hosts responsible for supplying energy let out painful screams.

The void shields above Vashtor's head had failed and disintegrated, torn apart like fragile curtains.

In an instant, enemy firepower poured in, with explosive shells blasting and striking the precision instruments. Plasma from heavy plasma weapons poured into the narrow corridors or gaps, leaving behind molten patches. On the chaotic side, some people were blown into the air by the spray of flames and shockwaves. A beam of light, like a warship's lance, shot out across the sky, completely erasing the ripples of the void shield.

"!"

Vashtor dodged the black sword that was slashing down.

The furnace at the core was enormous, with a diameter of over two kilometers. What distinguished Vashtor from most of the Chaos forces was that he truly understood the spatial constant and also possessed considerable knowledge of real-world technology, which allowed him to at least react to the knight's sudden outburst.

The attacking force is moving out from the ruins of the bridge.

The ranks of the Vigilant Angels advanced behind the shield wall, clearing a relatively safe area behind the bridge, encircling the arena where Vashtor and the Knight Lord were fighting. Under the protection of the remotely controlled Dauntless, the Star Phantom's heavy firepower creaked as it crushed over the still-warm debris.

The limitations of the chapters' organization, coupled with the lack of mortal auxiliary troops, made it difficult for Astartes to support a comprehensive combat unit. Over the course of millennia, these fragmented chapters have become increasingly specialized in their respective duties.

With high spirits, they silently repeated their vows in their hearts, trying to instill trust in their colleagues under the watchful eye of the Knight Lord, and striving to demonstrate their abilities.

As the intense firepower drove away the chaotic creations, several squads were stuck at various passes, watching the retreating demons with considerable impatience.

Perhaps they should catch up and annihilate these enemies.

Under the command of the squad leader, these carefully selected hundred-man squads began to unleash their firepower from their positions.

Undeniably, they have the ability, but what will they do after they break away?
This area will be exposed, and more defensive pressure will be distributed among the remaining troops. They'll be glorious, but their colleagues will be cursing, and—

His Highness was still watching them.

The knights noticed Arthur on the bridge, who was driving Vashtor away.

His Highness would not support them doing so, and the Knights of the Round Table obeyed orders.

This made them hesitate slightly, recalling His Highness's words, and at this moment, a somewhat greedy hope arose within them, wanting to hear more.

"."

Arthur noticed Vashtor's agitation; his forces, entrenched inside the warship, were blocked, and he also sensed the hesitation of the various sub-units.

He noticed their faces, their expressions beneath the armor full of inquiry.

"No need to rush."

Arthur hesitated for a moment, then pressed Vashtor back again, and said loudly:
"The war we have fought together may end easily, but the galaxy will never lack battlefields of glory. I am the leader of the Dark Angels, and I hope to witness your triumph in the next war, and the war after that."

The Dark Angels are getting excited!

'Am I some kind of worthless trash? What do you mean by ending it so easily?'

Faced with the contempt of the chess player, Vashtor, who considered himself a chess player as well, became furious and his actions became somewhat impatient. He was then shot in the face with a flaming gun.

Arthur remained expressionless.

In his view, while the Primarch, as the political and military core of the Legion, brings great enhancement and status guarantee to Astartes itself, it also needs to do two things for the Legion's internal affairs.

Emotional value and mental health.

Horus did a great job in the first half. The Warmaster was good at diplomacy and communication, and he was also generous with his appreciation for a particular group. This made many chapters loyal to him, and even the genetic offspring of other Primarchs were more willing to obey Horus's orders.

Calling out Ash Claw.

But the second half wasn't so good; it was a strange thing that warrior societies could appear in the army.

Many people may not realize the harm caused by warriors forming associations.

Erebas was recruited into Horus's command group by Abaddon through the Warriors' Society.

This meant that Warmaster's every decision was first exposed to Chaos, then to the Cult that had been monitoring the Primarch and using forbidden methods without restraint, and finally to Macardo's table.

At least from Arthur's worldview, warrior societies are a pure cancer. He doesn't actually like the inner circle either. All the measures he has taken in recent years have been to reduce the inner circle's influence on the military and unify the legion's ideology. As for the secret culture, it has also undergone a significant transformation under Ramses's wide-ranging attacks.

The existence of warrior societies makes the Sons of Horus seem like a gang, even their fighting style is full of gangster shadows, and the culture of big brother and little brother is prevalent.

But it's understandable, because whether around the emperor or in Kosonia, which is known for its gangster rule, there was nothing wholesome around Horus.

During the Great Crusade, the Primarchs returned one by one, and without relying on additional technology or genetic modification, they greatly increased the Legion's strength solely through their own talents and power.

At least that's the case for most legions.

They were already firing, bombarding the instruments that Vashtor cherished with explosives, thermals, and plasma. Above the smoke and dust, on the gradually crumbling dome, hung the former High Master of the Dark Angels.

"Your Highness?"

Carmel pushed aside a steel demon that was trying to interfere in the Primarch's war and spoke up to warn it.

He banished the steel demons crawling out of the tunnels around him. These creations were comparable to the Mechanicus' Castellan automatons, and their complete structure and functional systems allowed them to maintain formidable combat effectiveness even in the stable real universe.

“I see it, Kamel.”

Arthur said in a low voice, raising his sword to cut off the scepter that Vashtor was swinging at him.

Their offensive was aimed directly at Vashtor, the culprit, while the anti-psy forces stormed into the Heart of Plague, where large numbers of Chaos swarms remained, consisting of Beastman slaves and some Dark Mechanicus researchers.

The dark angels have begun killing them in the thousands.

Naberius saw it too.

He was tied to the battle flag, saw the bridge in chaos, and also saw that figure he had never wanted to face again, especially after being captured in battle.

He could see it, but it was blurry.

Someone secretly raised their weapon, intending to send the former chapter leader and his chapter flag to the heavens.

Clang!
A plasma burst shot out, melting the chains. The port slammed against the bulkhead, and the body, whose tendons had already been severed, fell helplessly, eventually being caught by several watchful angels.

“My lord?” Naberius tilted his head and looked at the knight who was forcing Vashtor to the edge of the bridge.

As a battle group leader, after a brief moment of doubt, panic gripped his mind.

"You won't die here."

Arthur said in a low voice.

The Legion has its own laws. The High Master Naberius can die, but he cannot be a martyr, much less die at the hands of his own people in the chaos of battle.

Otherwise, if I make a mistake in the future, I can just kill people and it won't be my fault.

This former Grand Master will use an internal trial within the Legion to make everyone in the Legion know where they went wrong in the past, and to let them know that they either accept reform or will be completely eliminated by the new Legion.

Having been in this universe for decades, Arthur was able to bring himself to do this.

"grown ups!"

Naberius said even more anxiously.

Arthur slammed his fist into the wall, and with a pained look in Vashtor's eyes, he grabbed the edge of the steel wings and pulled the seemingly useless behemoth to the ground.

He focused on his own battle and ignored everything else.

Naberius shut his mouth.

A feeling of pain spread through Naberius's heart.

A sense of foreignness flooded his mind, attacking everything that belonged to him in the past, producing an eroding, tearing pain, and the fear of the future made him tremble uncontrollably.

"Naberis, are you feeling unwell?"

"Kamel asked."

"fine."

Naberius said, glancing again at the smaller groups of hundreds of men intertwined together.

He is lying.

The pain was even worse than before.

He was having difficulty breathing, but he maintained a calm demeanor and the peaceful expression he desired in his heart.

Bang!

It rolled away in a sorry state once again, its parts scattered all over the ground.

"I am different from you, I am different from all of you!"

When he saw the Grey Knights storm the Plagueheart, and saw the heart cease beating as if it had given up, Vashtor said, somewhat hysterically:
“I am the creator, the mechanical god, I am Vashtor.”

He tried to defeat the knight in the fight, and his repeated, perilous struggles made him refuse to believe that he would necessarily be pinned down here.

He knew it was dangerous, but with such an opportunity right in front of him, how could he possibly give it up? How could he possibly give it up!

He made a series of deals with Nurgle in exchange for the Heart of Plague, and spent a great deal of money to trick an AI from the dark age of technology into completing a large number of orders for the four gods with an unprecedented level of seriousness, hoping that they could further restrict the activities of the Dawnwings, and even relaxed the terms quite a bit.

He even brought over fragments of Caliban, fragments he had spent countless hours gathering from reality and the warp.
Vashtor knew very well that if he failed this time, he would never have another chance.

He doesn't accept it—

He can't accept it!
"My computational and analytical skills are second to none; I can see those subtle, previously unnoticed clues. I've made thorough preparations."

"So after being hit, it's easier to break through defenses?"

Ramses glanced at the warp, kicked the Tuchucha engine, which was trying to escape, back into the network, and asked a question.

He is looking for the true form of Vashtor.

To protect themselves from Master Ya, these demons with names and identities each have several resurrection armors, which is why Vashtor still dares to stay here and why he has been able to survive until now.

The Blood Brothers are weeping for their copyrights.

"what!!!"

Vashtor let out an almost heart-wrenching howl, reaching forward to tear Ramses' mouth apart, before being cut down by Arthur's sword.

"Move quickly."

Arthur reminded.

To be honest, keeping Vashtor in the real universe without killing him is quite a feat for Arthur right now.

The main point is to avoid putting too much risk on the troops under one's command.

"It's coming soon."

Ramses was bowing his head, working with Uslan and the Eldar's prophetic group, relying on the Val's amulets contributed by the Eldar to locate the exact location of Vashtor in the space of Azur.

Psionicists like Aglaia are learning to observe this ritualistic process of tracing warp entities from a first-person perspective.

Although Vashtor and the Eldar have little interaction, they do have some connection with the Eldar gods.

During the Great Fall, Vashtor managed to acquire some valuable items, including the existence of the Three Sacred Treasures. Otherwise, Vashtor wouldn't have made no progress for tens of millions of years.

Then he stretched out his leg and kicked Uslan's shin, and said:

"Move quickly!"

This is a location spell, part of a destructive spell researched by the Ancient Elven race when they fought against warp demons. It can locate warp entities through a medium.

In the past, before Slaanesh existed, the prophets were even able to locate the Greater Demons of the other three gods in this way, and pull them out of the warp to seal them away.

To prevent these great demons from causing further trouble, the Ancient Spirits usually seal these artifacts inside the tombs of the undead in space. Even though the Spirits don't have many ways to destroy demons, this treatment makes countless demons wish they were dead, and also makes those demons hesitant to try to devour the souls of the Ancient Spirits.

Perhaps that's why the Ancient Spirits don't care much about the perilous state of the Sea of ​​Souls.

After all, no matter how dangerous the warp may be, it is still a paradise for the Eldar.

The influence of the warp on reality gradually deepened as a result. The ancient spirits enjoyed themselves for millions of years, which eventually caused the blocked cesspool to explode again, causing the sea of ​​souls to completely overlap with reality.

The Eldar, whose resurrection points have been captured, have lost the ability to fight against the Warp in the new era.

"It's coming soon."

Uslan wiped his sweat, took another handful of parts that had fallen from Vashtor, ignored Ramses's nagging "You Eldar should know shame! You should know shame!", and completely immersed his soul in the warp to continue casting the spell.

He hasn't used it for over ten thousand years.

(End of this chapter)