This is our Warhammer journey

Chapter 459 Mortalian: Why wasn't Ryan so obedient during the Great Rebellion?! (5.6k)

War itself is meaningless.

It has no meaning, no structure, and no substance.

It's a thing, neither noble nor worthy of being enthusiastic about.

It will choose the most sudden, simplest, and most unambiguous way to convey itself to others, like a punch to the face.

He is the means.

boom!
The warship's steel plates trembled under the impact and were subsequently torn apart.

Is it a bomb? Is it plasma? Or is it one of those forbidden weapons whose names we don't even know?

Vox, the Chaos Lord and the fifth company commander of Mortalian, was fleeing from one hideout to another. His wet body made him look like a maggot wriggling in a sewer, barely having a moment to catch his breath and think about why he was there.

In a sense, it might be safer to be on those battlefields engulfed in flames, at least you don't have to dodge collapsing metal structures while back and forth on roads filled with the roar of artillery fire, hoping for a miracle.

Dealing with those Ultra Warriors was indeed dangerous, and he might even run into the Imperial Guard, but at least there he could eat and drink his fill, and even watch Nurgle devour the brains of those mortals to pass the time.

Now, he has no choice but to flee, and then savor the hardships before his escape and the fear before his death.

He dared not think about everything he was going through, or what was chasing after him.

The Death Guard commander of Dalian was running, running and running, slipping in and out of the culverts and tunnels formed by the grotesque demons, using his slippery body to move and evade them.

What was he thinking about?
How did he unknowingly fall into the trap?

Vox regretted it for a moment.

He was ordered to intercept yet another counterattack launched by Great Otlama.

Before that, the Father of Genes had warned him to be careful and to retreat if he could not hold on any longer. His role was to buy time so that the Chaos Warriors could use their flesh and blood to buy more room for error for the Death Guard's attack, rather than burying one-seventh of the Death Guard's strength here.

The results of it?
He was smashed to pieces.

This legion is more focused; most of its energy is no longer tied to political affairs, logistics, and other matters, but instead it is dedicated to a single, more resolute objective, which translates into remarkably deadly precision.

First, various outer star systems were attacked, and Vox made routine mobilizations.

Then, during the relocation, the enemy's scattered fleet suddenly converged with an astonishingly high level of execution, locked onto its position, and completed the encirclement.

The battle-hardened Vox proudly conquered the imperial lands, hoping to add another layer of his blessing. Before he could even react, he had already fallen into an encirclement, with a steady stream of supplies behind this legion.

The situation has taken a sharp turn for the worse. Gunfire erupts from within his flagship, accompanied by shouts and screams. The echoes of the dead creatures spark pure terror, making Vox almost certain that they have not arrived at some benevolent father's paradise.

So he could only run, run as fast as he could, without thinking about who was chasing him.

Don't look back.

They had mocked the Dark Angels' ruthless hunters, ridiculed them for being outmaneuvered by Typhon in the Misty Sector, and mocked their ineffectiveness in the Siege of Terra with their superior forces before the Star Torch.

But now the entire hunter army is everywhere.

Vox even saw quite a few familiar faces among them.

After ten thousand years, they have finally found their chance to fight the Death Guard in Alterac Valley.

The result was that the Death Guard shattered at the slightest touch.

What they take pride in, and often use to mock the experience of loyal warbands, is seen by their opponents as slow, clumsy, and easily defeated by the unparalleled skill of the other side and the extravagant logistics of Alteramar.

Well, maybe we should also include the Ultra Warriors.

He so comforted himself.

Suddenly, Vox tensed up.

He quickly touched the already sprouting green leaves, as if drawing out the channels of nutrients from them, and felt something stirring above them.

He picked up his weapon, his mutated eyes cautiously peeking out from the gaps in his armor, watching the street.

Fifty meters ahead, the dense smoke and dust produced by some kind of high-temperature weapon evaporating metal parted, and several figures emerged from the haze, moving forward slowly and unhurriedly. They were all huge, and the bulging shoulder outlines clearly indicated that they were Space Marines.

For a moment, Vox even began to hope that their unusually tall stature was a blessing from the gods for Space Marines, but it was clear that in this day and age where Original Space Marines were commonplace, they were not.

There were 13 people in total, wearing winged sword badges of dark angels, efficiently slaughtering every creature they encountered.

Precise and decisive, their talents, which are top-notch even in Astartes, have been fully utilized. This is an elite selected from the battlefield that countless other legions have never recognized.

There is nowhere to escape.

This is the conclusion.

It will expose their whereabouts.

Vox pulled one eye back and looked down at the ground blocked by roots, trying to see if his slippery body could squeeze through the beams and find a way into the shuttle launch area.

Then, one of the dark angels raised his fist.

The team stopped.

Damn!

Vox instinctively gripped his weapon, staring at the broken claw emblem tattooed on the other side of the Ironclad Terminators. He couldn't muster the courage to do so; he didn't believe his strength could protect him from such a group of enemies. It was as if the power bestowed upon him by the god of plague left him feeling utterly insecure.

Damn it, just a simple surgical upgrade is enough to allow these beings who should have drowned in the real universe to catch up with their bodies that have been tempered and refined in the subspace!
Vox nervously assessed the situation, looking at the magnificent inscriptions on the opponent's armor. Amidst his jealousy, a subtle sense of resentment inexplicably arose in his mind.

If only he were standing there right now, standing with the Father of Genesis, obeying the Father of Genesis's commands. Without Typhon, without that catastrophe that made everyone suffer so much, the Primarch would still be pursuing what he loves, instead of choosing to follow the crowd because of his offspring.

The Death Guard will also become equally radiant and powerful, fighting for something greater.

Click~
The leader spun his enormous helmet toward him with mechanical precision.

A pair of crimson eyepieces pierced the smoke, staring directly at the eye peeking out from the ever-growing branch.

Walker felt as if he had fallen into an ice cave.

He fell silent, his eyes fixed on the ground, meeting the gaze with unwavering demeanor, disguising himself as a small creature growing from the filthy biological wall.

If only he were a small animal, perhaps these executioners would spare him because he was so insignificant.

Time passed in a very short instant, less than a second.

Then, the Dark Angel lowered his fist.

Vox remained where he was, trembling and afraid to move.

He wasn't like this before. He used to be calm, kind, and not lacking in the spirit of sacrifice. He respected everything about the Primarch, even when Mortarion decided their deaths on the ship.

But why.

An irritating fear lingered in my mind.

At this moment, Vox felt his consciousness was completely distorted, and the intense desire to live even twisted his proud composure.

He saw him, he must have seen him.

Even a mortal could see him at that distance, let alone a Space Marine.

But why did they choose to ignore it?
Those things showed no mercy.

They couldn't even understand what compassion was when facing the enemy.

But what do I have to fear? I am a warrior, Mortarion's blade, a siege master, his pride. How could I be afraid?!

Conflicting emotions tormented Vox, the warrior who had sworn eternal allegiance to the Primarch because of Mortalian's rescue, suddenly finding himself no longer himself.

I--

boom!
After a brief moment of confusion, the Dalian platoon leader of the Death Guard, who was once the leader of the 'Silent Lord' war gang, suddenly exploded.

tick~
This kind of behavior is really hard to get used to.

The lion stepped aside the sludge, allowing its domain to replace the rootless, floating pollution, and strode over the corpses that had left only their legs.

It was an easy win.

These Death Guardian spells were annoying, reminding him of Lady Kra, who had deep ties to the Warp, but they weren't difficult to deal with given the Pentagram Order's countermeasures.

Moreover, likely due to the lack of supplies from the 30k era, the Death Guards' resilience couldn't realistically last long, reflecting the absolute difference in the size of the political entities behind them.

Ryan looked up and, through the burned-through corridor, could see the plague planet below, ignited by the extinction order of the phosphorescent weapon.

He was besieging and pressuring Mortarion, forcing him to choose to crash into the area guarded by Karna.

The mission has been completed perfectly. If Mortarion doesn't want to fight him, he can only fight Karna, or he can choose to retreat after wasting a lot of manpower.

Either decision is acceptable to Dawnwing.

Ryan watched as the howling soul was dragged into the forest, along with the Death Guards who had perished with him in that instant.

Don't misunderstand, he doesn't possess the unique abilities of the Wings of Dawn. He can't do things like directly annihilating demons without the help of those rituals or equipment he's only recently learned.

However, he has his own domain in the warp, and there happen to be quite a few people in that domain, including mysterious guardians, who can keep an eye on those who fall into the Lane Domain.

To be honest, this has never been a good thing.

Ryan recalled the fear the Caliban inhabitants had shown him and felt increasingly remorseful for his actions.

Even after he chose to admit his mistake and apologize, the residents quickly forgave him, and with his explanation and the help of his brothers, they chose to accept the responsibilities 'given' to them by their new life.

In layman's terms, after Ramses' initial investment and enhancement, they will serve as demons under Ryan's command, similar to how the Four Gods Demons participate in the Great Game, to kill other demons entering Ryan's territory, forcing them to generate value, or making them value itself.

Ramses would come periodically to transform the emotionally charged forces into pure spiritual power, preventing Ryan from being affected by possible extreme emotions.

Although Ramses bluntly stated that most gods were probably not as extreme as him.

Ryan's face darkened.

It is said that this brother has already begun a new round of research based on the information provided by Laughing God, intending to crack the secret of how the Eldar gods can dominate Eldar beliefs without being harmed by them. At that time, even without these special brothers, Ryan will not be affected by faith or emotions. "Lion, all ships silent, mission accomplished."

Merian, a knight commander under Astram, was imprisoned in Caliban for a century by his own orders. If history had not been altered, he would have become a prisoner of the Stone Fortress and died during a frenzied interrogation.

And now, Astram is dead.

Luther is dead, as is the chapter leader of the Dark Angels.

They appeared exceptionally sorrowful before their deaths, complaining about Ryan, complaining about Arthur, complaining about Ryan's actions, and complaining about why Arthur couldn't have appeared sooner.

There were others, the descendants of the Dark Angels caught up in the warband, who also paid a price for their actions, more or less.

But he himself stood there, directing the soldiers who had forgiven him.

Hearing Merian's tone, which remained completely unconcerned upon learning that he was still in charge of the legion, Ryan inexplicably thought of Ramses, his brother whose appearance and aesthetic sense were quite reminiscent of his own.

Ramses made a statement that, while sharp, was indeed true.

'You weren't brought before a military tribunal as a war criminal only because you are the Primarch!'

Ryan's face darkened again.

He suddenly realized that this universe was exceptionally tolerant of the Primarchs; many things that would be unforgivable to ordinary people were acceptable to the victims.

What does the Primarch need to do?
All that is needed is for the Primarch to remain true to himself, discover and recognize his own power, and then ensure that he is not misled by the power of the High Heavens.

"Ah."

Ryan responded before Merian resubmitted the report.

"Gather the troops and let's move on to the next objective."

He brandished his sword, and the surrounding jungle opened up again, leading him away from the ship.

With the help of Dawnwing, who has no Riddler elements, he is very clear about his current power. His natural intuition and pragmatic mindset allow him to skillfully integrate these characteristics into combat.

The Dark Angels obeyed orders, recorded data, and tallied battle results. The Lion King precisely and efficiently marked the actions of each team, and the members of the Dark Angels had to ensure that they could complete them perfectly.

Ultramarines, Blood Angels, Black Templars. Warriors from other bloodlines blend in, helping and learning from each other.

The fleet then abandoned the ruins and set sail again.

Behind them were transport fleets and planets that continuously pumped blood into this team.
-
Lion King

This cold, terrifying, elusive, arrogant, and repulsive fellow.

How was he able to get along with Dawnwing so smoothly?
If a major rebellion were like this, would the rebels even need to fight?

Just submit it directly.

Faced with the battlefront that had become wildly popular in just a few months, the increasingly dire situation made Mortarian curse in his mind, "Back when I was dealing with my brothers, I never saw you, the 'eldest son of the emperor,' put in this much effort."

"Whoo~"

Putting aside this troublesome question, he then asked the Nightbringer if he could stop the inferior creation he spoke of.

"If I give you an opportunity, can you stop Ryan?"

"That's natural."

"The Night Bearer said proudly."

From Mortalian's perspective, these Primarchs are nothing more than extensions of those destructive powers, simply wearing the shell of a real universe. In fact, the powers they possess are things their masters despise and do not want to touch.

Judging from their attitude toward the so-called fifth god, the other Primarchs are nothing more than extensions of that fifth god.

Even if it were just a fragment, the Nightbringers would be very confident in dealing with such an enemy.

These beings are far inferior to the gods of the Spirit Race. During the great war with the Ancient Saints, these creations were merely food for them to devour souls.

If you really want to deal with him, it would be better to bring in Kane.

"I need you to stop him, without interfering with his command, just make sure that he and his fleet cannot interfere in my war for a month."

After speaking, Mortarion's cold gaze fell on Kos, the one guarded by the Seraphim Karna, a thorn in his side.

Mortalian was well aware of the Star God fragment's request, even though it had come to him of its own accord.

The Stargod Fragment sensed the current state of the universe and the fact that some traitors, though weakened, were still alive and kicking. It was obsessed with strengthening its power. However, for the Nightbringer, who had been badly tricked by the Deceiver and subconsciously refused to merge with other fragments, the only thing that could maximize its power was the scythe that the Eldar had thrown into the warp years ago.

The only thing that can help him are these warp creations that he once loathed.

The Nightbringers weren't sure if these guys, shaped by the countless extreme emotions of the War of Heaven, would keep their promise, but if they could get such an opportunity by expending a little of their fighting strength, it didn't matter.

"can."

Those who embrace the night agree with this.

He was willing to accept any other option as long as he wasn't forced to deal with those four evil entities.

After all, although the scythe, which symbolizes his power and authority and cannot be destroyed even by the waves of the warp, is very precious, he cannot let this fragment of it cost him his life.

Although the concept of death does not exist for the Star Gods in theory, if they were actually shattered into dust and thrown into the subspace, it would be no different from being dead. The probability of them recovering would be roughly equivalent to the probability of building a castle with sand in probability theory.

"Ah."

Mortarian raised his hand, and a thick gray gas was pumped out of his body with this movement.

The mortal servants fell in the blink of an eye, their deaths becoming nourishment, while the surrounding death guards, after enduring the brief baptism of death, hurriedly retreated.

This made him pause.

It was death again, a death not acknowledged by the loving father.

The Fifth Company was wiped out.

The connection was severed, the offspring vanished, and the soul disappeared completely.

Can't wait any longer.

Noticing the Death Guards around him, all of them except Morag instinctively took three steps back, and Mortarion clenched his fists.

Compared to his initial sadness, he suddenly felt completely disheartened.

This made him even more panicked.

He could feel himself becoming indifferent, as if he were convincing himself to continue serving his loving father and accepting death.

A tremendous death force emanated from his body.

"grown ups!"

Morag spoke up.

The cold emotions miraculously stopped gnawing at him, Mortalian's exhaustion lessened, and a simple call soothed the voice lingering in his head, as if in response to his prayer.

Can't wait any longer.

Mortarian quickly released Morag's hand, which had been devoured by his own dissipating death power, leaving only bones.

The Nightbringer sized up the uncontrollable creature and suppressed his greedy urge to devour it.

Honestly, if the Primarch was really only at this level, even though he's just a fragment of a Star God now, he might actually be able to deal with him without the intervention of a higher-level power.

So, what should we do next?
Mortarian quickly focused his mind, recalling the names of his offspring, and then began to analyze the battle situation.

Kugas now fears him and is protecting the Plague on another ship; the Nightbringers will behead the Lion King, thereby disrupting the military deployment of this star system; he, entangled in death, will find and slaughter the bloodstained angels, and then reign supreme over Macragge.

The Death Guard will descend upon that land; they will breach Hera Fortress, wrest Guilliman from the Corpse King's side, and burn this sacred land belonging to the Ultramarines to the ground.

Morag looked around.

As Nurgle's forces, including demons and cultists, continue to die, Mortalian's power grows ever stronger.

Nurgle loathed this immense power, and Mortalian, as its vessel, accepted this gift.

Similarly, a large number of Nurgle demons appeared in the world, gradually replacing the absent members. The number of these demons was so astonishing that even Mortarion was amazed by Nurgle's work. Their bloated bodies piled up on each other, crowding together in the area where they gathered, and solidified into dark green mold on the pale floor. Standing there, they seemed to be forced by a greater power, observing the Lord of Death with fearful eyes.

They were all in trouble, and the situation worsened as the plague fleet drew closer to Macragge. The fire in Father's Garden burned ever brighter, and even now, the light on the horizon could still be seen. Even with so much suffering pressing down on the worlds that formed the defensive barrier of Macragge, they could not completely cross the final boundary.

They also need the flesh and blood of the most numerous intelligent life forms in the galaxy to accomplish certain things—

For example, actually breaking through this defense line.

They remain a powerful and well-equipped army, still under the watchful eye of the gods.

Let's do it that way.

With the help of my offspring, I will be the winner.

Mortarian looked at his palm, sensing the power he had gained from the deaths of countless offspring. The deaths of his offspring were like wounds that were constantly being torn open, making him stronger while also making him hate everything before him more.

He looked at Kos, at this formidable barrier that he had no choice but to attack.

He will smash it!
Macurag will soon be theirs.

　P.S.: Characters appearing in the story

　　Death Guard: Fleeing in a sorry state
　　Dark Angel: Unleashing Divine Power

　　Other chapters: Learn, learn, I'll learn as hard as I can. To witness a battle of the strong commanded by the Primarch is worth dying for!

　　Administrative officers: Work, work, I'll work as hard as I can! If the Space Marines on the front lines miss a single bomb, it's because of my poor administrative efficiency. I'll have to work two more hours!

　　Ryan: The tactical objective was achieved, and the effect of forcing Mortalian was achieved. At the same time, while fighting, I reflected on my actions. The more I reflected, the clearer my understanding of myself became, the higher my psychological threshold became, and the less confused I became.

　　Mortalian: Forced by the pressure from Ryan, he could no longer find a better way to attack and could only choose to take a gamble. At the same time, he could not accept the death of his offspring, but could only deceive himself and vent his hatred on his opponent.

　　Nightbringer: It's just a special kind of big magic, the advantage is in my hands!
　　
　
(End of this chapter)