This is our Warhammer journey

Chapter 458 So what if I'm tired? (There's more after 5.6k, but it's late, go to sleep early)
Ryan departed with an unprecedented sense of mission.

Along with them went Calgar and other contemporary commanders of the Ultramarines.

That's one good thing about this era, which is that there were still many people in the 30k era who dared to talk back to the Primarchs or even disobey them, especially between different Legions. It wasn't uncommon for company commanders to give other Primarchs attitude.

However, after being blessed by the divine over thousands of years, the Primarch suddenly transformed from a Legion Commander and the Father of Genetics into the Son of God, and even the Astartes of other Legions would inevitably choose to obey subconsciously.

The idea of ​​having Lion King command the Ultra Warriors would have been unthinkable ten thousand years ago.

"I think this is more due to you adults."

After a brief glance at Hill, who was dressed as a sculpture, De la Cruz spoke to Romulus during the handover of documents.

As an old man who lived through that era and now looks back at history, having formed a complete image of the 30k Primarchs through the analysis of several adults, he also knows that the Imperial demigods are not entirely gods, and each has their own personality flaws.

And many of them are deadly.

According to this Ultramarines Grand Master, the main reason was that the Dawnwings set a good example, successfully turning the fantasies that humanity had held about the Primarchs for thousands of years into reality, which made it easier for the Primarchs to be accepted later.

"Well, you can't say that. People grow up too."

Romulus waved his hand, knowing exactly what de la Cruz was referring to.

"Ah."

De la Cruz nodded.

He then watched as the Lion King departed with a large number of Astartes from various bloodlines.

"Times have indeed changed a lot."

He sighed softly.

If it were that fierce lion from ten thousand years ago, would he have waited for them to finish discussing Guilliman's resurrection before speaking? He probably would have taken over military power long ago and gone about doing what he thought was right.

It's not like now, where after carefully analyzing the situation and soliciting opinions, they choose to leave without even planning to inquire about logistics.

"Everything is moving in the right direction."

Romulus laid down a report from the Sousa sector.

"The Pharos Lighthouse is still not moving?"

He pointed to the planet Sosa, located in the western part of Great Alterama, on the report and couldn't help but confirm it again.

This unique planet became the starlight of the Second Empire on the other side of the galaxy ten thousand years ago, but was eventually destroyed under the siege of the Midnight Lords, and is now an ordinary, conventional agricultural planet.

According to the information Romulus possessed and the verification by Tarasin, it was proven that there was a supreme star god inside the Pharos Lighthouse, composed of multiple star god fragments.

This is undoubtedly a ticking time bomb for Macragge, especially given the current dire situation. The Dawnwing has always been wary of whether Chaos might use this to its advantage, as if it were being released to cause destruction.

After all, once the bomb is detonated, Chaos can quickly escape back to the subspace, while Altera, with its many planets, can't possibly run away on long legs.

"No, the Emperor's Scythe has been monitoring the ruins ever since the evacuation of the civilians. No Star God fragments or signs of space undead activity have been found at the ruins. However, we have detected signs of Nightbringer activity again in the Chaos faction's invasion area."

"Erricane de la Cruz replied."

The fragments of the Star God, sealed by the Necromancers of Space, have gradually broken free of their seals over tens of millions of years and are now active throughout the galaxy. This is no secret to the current high command of the Empire, and the widespread dissemination of information about the Star Gods has also explained many historical mysteries of human colonies.

Altramor has consistently shown signs of Nightbringer activity since entering the 40k era.

The Nightbringers, the strongest Star Gods, symbolize the death of the material universe and are the prototype of the Grim Reaper in the myths of countless galactic civilizations. They were tricked by the Eldar during the War of Heaven and permanently lost their weapons. Later, they were shattered into pieces during the rebellion of the Necromancers in space.

According to the Inquisition forces that hunted the Celestial Fragment, the fragment's request was to retrieve its lost scythe from the warp in order to regain some of its power.

As a result, the enemy has been active on planets with necromantic ruins, many of which have human colonies, causing countless casualties.

"."

Romulus had a slight recollection of this fragment. Alteramar had always been a disaster area for Star God fragments, with several Star God escape incidents occurring during the Unyielding Expedition launched in the 41k era.

The threat posed by this fragment was historically resolved by the invincible Ultramarines, Fourth Company Commander Ventress.

After briefly recalling the specific process and remembering the way they retrieved the WorldShaper from Dawn Star back then, Romulus's face showed a tense expression.

To this day, we still do not know how the fragments of the Star God, capable of easily destroying life on a planet, were shattered by the bomb gun.

'It must be the power of the emperor!'

"I'll have Arthur go ahead and keep watch—has all the relevant information been reported?"

Romulus inquired and reviewed the documents provided by the court.

De la Cruz immediately replied, "It's all open to the combat troops."

"The same goes for the Lion King."

Fearing he hadn't expressed himself clearly, he added another sentence.

"Ah."

Romulus gazed at the star map in thought for a moment, then reviewed the extent of the damage caused by the related fragments, sent the relevant information to the Lion King, and then, considering the Lion King's combat strength, breathed a sigh of relief.

The most reassuring aspect of the Primarch as a military core is its stability; it is not particularly vulnerable to duels or decapitation strikes.

Except for certain original organisms.

Romulus closed the book Ramses had prepared for Guilliman, "The Emperor's Recognition of the Legitimacy of the Second Empire."

It fully incorporates contemporary universal values ​​of the state religion, recognizes Saint Geres's decisions as the imperial successor during the Second Empire, acknowledges Guilliman's regency, the Lion King's status as protector of the nation, and recognizes the Second Empire's role in maintaining and supplementing human history.

We're just waiting for Guilliman to wake up, so he can recognize all of this before he's fully awake.

In short, for Primarchs who are clear about their own nature, they are among the most outstanding beings in both the physical universe and the warp, whether in terms of combat power or professional skills. You can confidently entrust them with the tasks they are best at.

Hey~
In the Primarchs' independent communications, news came that Ryan had finished reviewing the data.

At the same time, a faint echo came from the sky, shaking the drifting clouds in the azure sky of Alterama into a ring shape. It was the sound transmitted back by the space elevator when the near-Earth orbit fleet departed.

Without much delay, Ryan met with commanders at all levels and then readily accepted everything.

The fleet sets sail.

After a brief and peaceful handover, this war machine, with Macurag at its core, will once again be in operation under the guidance of a brand-new brain.

In a more efficient way.

"It's time to get busy again, everyone."

Unsurprised by such speed, Romulus looked around.

In this vast office space, one can only see people everywhere.

There are Astartes, and there are mortal executives.

The heavy typing and communication equipment acted like shackles, firmly confining them to their posts.

why?
Why work so hard?

These people all looked up, briefly setting aside the information swirling in their minds, and faced him.

Diggris, dressed in a gray robe, arrived at the command level with a dozen or so colleagues, all of whom looked equally haggard and were in a state of torment.

Digglis himself appeared numb. Ever since he was given an unprecedented responsibility, it could be said that the entire Ottara had been pressuring him and expressing dissatisfaction with every bit of his slackness.

The reason is quite reasonable.

Based on everything they have created, the pressure has lessened over time, and Digglis has never complained.

But there is something else besides that, which is not entirely a test.

Perhaps all of this is more about honing skills, just as a blacksmith has to work harder to forge a divine weapon.

"It's almost over."

Romulus told him directly.

“We have done everything we could, every time we delayed, every time we counterattacked, every time we seized the initiative. Now our support has arrived, our predicament will soon be over, then all of this that caused the predicament, and then everything else.”

Seeing hope, Digglis's expression remained unwavering, his eyes revealing only a resolute determination.

"Faster than we hoped."

Romulus said, "Soon, but the war will not end. The form of the battle will change, and we will launch a counterattack against Chaos. The troops are in position."

Everyone remained silent.

"Therefore, let us encourage each other."

Romulus told them.

Everyone nodded again.

No one else would notice that there was something else in their eyes besides the habitual, dutiful service. For example—

hope.

"Let's go, our dearest, our best, human warriors."

Romulus kept looking at his weary government officials: "Now do what we do best and should do, go and take charge of all this, take your colleagues with you, and help them. They will become deaf and blind, tired and hungry on their own outside, so they need our help."

Upon hearing this, Digglis, who had been in a state of numbness for a long time, almost laughed.

They have given everything.

They were exhausted and on their last legs, leaving the entire Makulag region impregnable.

Now the Wings of Dawn have arrived, and the Lion has come.
In any case, they were lucky.

Astartes was the first to rise, and they helped the government officials, who were somewhat clumsy from carrying the large auxiliary equipment, leave together.

Their efforts paid off.

They can see the feedback they receive from their work, rather than feeling fear.

It's not like their painstaking efforts, after years of numb calculations, have been completely ignored, as if the world has never recognized them.

When the Primarch issues orders, witnesses victory in war after war, sees the improvement of various data in the records, and sees letters sent back from afar by his descendants and relatives, telling him that their lives are slowly getting better.

It was as if parched earth had been nourished; they almost craved this feeling. Every time their fingers touched the tip of the pen, every heartbeat made them feel truly alive.

They are still living in fear.

Fearing the original's departure again, fearing that he himself would make a mistake.

They fear that the moment they relax, they will lose their grasp on the future.

So what if I'm tired?
-
Then, relying on twenty-one faint lights, the Death Guards groped their way forward in the pale light.

His figure was bloated, and he stumbled around like a lost child.

The Endurance is acting very strangely now.

The interior was filled with additional virus-infected equipment. Theoretically, if the enemy is about to breach the outer protective deck, the protocol will activate a power outage and fill it with flame-retardant chemicals. In this case, the Resilience will lose some of its gunnery capabilities after being invaded, but this action can also maximize the kill of the enemy that breaks in.

The innermost part is even more impregnable, somewhat like a work of steel warriors, with the outer perimeter being a pure meat grinder and the inner part a gladiatorial arena.

Death Guard has always felt this is overly cautious.

The Primarch is a prime example of excessive caution. The Death Guards all know that the Father of Genesis leaves so much redundancy in every operation that the Legion's true power is difficult to unleash, and the results are not impressive.

But now they have seen what the enemy looks like.

These survivors, along with countless attackers, witnessed how the defensive forces of Great Utralama rampaged through their ranks.

It wasn't the weapons they wielded or the power bestowed upon them by the false emperor that were terrifying, though those were already quite frightening. What surprised the Death Guards most was their ferocity and the precision hidden beneath that ferocity.

This style is completely different from that of Romulus or anyone else in the past.

Click~
With the sound of the corpses breaking apart, Morag led the Death Guards and pushed open the gate.

This was an offensive extending from east to west, advancing at an extraordinary speed, with ripples spreading out from where those damned false emperor's lackeys had just trod.

Those delaying zones they had conquered, which had received the blessing of the Warp through sacrifices to the Father and should have taken months to overcome, were suppressed and then crushed in a matter of days. This horrific sight shattered all the attackers' carefully laid cover plans.

The troops sent to counter this offensive were all crushed.

Morag once believed that any Death Guardian was an invincible force against the defenders of Altramar. The weapon's form and weight, shaped by the Great Father, were so terrifying that their mere presence should be enough to quell anything imaginable.

But when you see them destroyed, not with major damage, but systematically blocked, slaughtered, and then killed...

What he saw was indescribable; it was as if the ones wielding swords before them were not another legion of the same kind, but executioners.

This familiar smell instantly filled the long-time veterans, who had been with the company since the 30k, with a sense of panic.

They were caught off guard, and to make matters worse, their attack still made little progress.

What hinders them is not only the warp power they have always relied on, which has now become quite unstable, but also the courage of the defenders.

Whenever the Death Guard tears through the defense fleet and enters the planet, a wave of despair surges and engulfs everyone's heart. The men stand on the high walls and fight to the death, every step so difficult. The women risk their lives to pass supplies, maintaining the increasingly meager production, and then slit their own throats with bayonets before being defeated.

Chaos reigned within the Legion. Death Guards continued to die, and according to the wizards, they had not seen any familiar figures in the garden. Lord Mortarion took the initiative to maintain order, but doubts continued to accumulate within the ranks.

But now, the situation has become precarious.

Communication commands could not be executed, the readings of the oracle, which was deeply contaminated by the subspace, became wildly inaccurate, and the reports uttered by the demon host were full of nonsense.

The Death Guard must dispatch armed squads to oversee the work of those demons, monitor and protect them, and ensure they can complete their missions. Then, under Mortarion's leadership, they must personally go into battle to verify everything and find ways to ensure that these demons do not go mad or commit suicide during this period, or be replaced by the power of the Unseen Lord.

As a result, their speed was slowed down, and they got stuck in the quagmire.

This is the decisive weakness.

I was too slow, and the enemy was too fast; suddenly everything was urgent.

This made everyone realize something terrifying.

The legion that destroyed Perturabo, along with Perturabo himself, the Dawnwing Legion, has returned, along with that executioner from ten thousand years ago!
A meeting was held on a completely destroyed wasteland, where a group of officers and their entourage who were still able to maintain their self-awareness gathered together and boarded a ship that had gradually instilled fear in them during the war.

A terrifying shadow loomed at the other end of the conference room.

This panicked many Death Guards, who gathered on the other side of the bridge, including Morag.

Exhausted, he remained beside Mortalian, watching through his aching eyes for the first sign of order emerging from chaos—a sign he seemed never to have seen in his entire life.

"You are afraid!"

The Nightbringer asked the question in a fierce, deep voice.

"You want to betray me?"

Mortarian answered in the same tone, a terrifying aura surrounding him.

As rumors spread, the older the warband, the more fearful they became of His arrival. Stable hierarchies could not be established, and only the Primarch's authority could suppress them. Even He himself did not know which team was where, which Chaos Warband had successfully breached the impregnable Macragge defenses, or which of his subordinates had completed its breakthrough.

But this still has meaning. As death accumulates, warp waves are forming in the tides. This is a natural rhythm that is part of life. Death begins to gather on the Primarch who is leading this war, just as it gathers power, to prepare for the final attack.

"No, I won't until I get my scythe back."

The Night Bearer's voice was very deep as this ancient being looked with great interest at the Grim Reaper who seemed to have come from another world.

“But you need to speed things up. I don’t know why you’re afraid of that inferior creation, but I must remind you of one thing: that one is coming. I can’t understand the other things, but that thing you call Arthur is definitely a complete star god.”

His earnest reminder couldn't help but make one sigh at the oddities of this era.

It's one thing to stuff warp entities into physical bodies to use as weapons, but it's not unheard of. Even a complete Stargod has been brainwashed into this state, actually ending up as a human among an inferior race.

The creatures of this era would stop at nothing for war. If the ancient sages had had the determination of that so-called emperor, they might not have been wiped out.

The ancient existence cannot help but make one marvel at the increasingly exaggerated pace of version updates.

"Ha, why do you make such a assertion?"

Mortarian, who had participated in the Randan War, dismissed this 'ally's' assessment of the Lion King as utter nonsense; these transcendent beings from the real universe always liked to find some sense of superiority in them.

He had one hand on Morag's shoulder, as if drawing strength from this one of the few surviving offspring.

Clearly, this Lord of Death was not entirely calm about the recent battle situation.

"Because he is unrestricted, he remains clear-headed and at the same time wields his power with ease."

The Nightbringers seemed oblivious to Mortalian's taunt.

"As for the other fragments, it's like you creatures having part of your brain removed. Even if you remain conscious and know how to do it, you just can't do it."

“You can’t let the situation drag on until he arrives; if that happens, I will choose to withdraw.”

"I see."

Mortarian waved his hand impatiently, no longer wanting to explain to his ally just how powerful the Lion King was, or whose opponent they were facing.

He looked around.

Inside the increasingly pale but less foul-smelling council hall of the Endurance, many names were no longer mentioned; their absence would be permanent.

Were they caught in battle elsewhere, or are they already dead?
Only Mortarion knew.

　Ps:

　　I'll update this chapter first, and I'll stay up all night to write the rest. Everyone, go to sleep early, you can read it tomorrow morning too, sob sob.

　　
　
(End of this chapter)