Warhammer 40: Doom

Chapter 194 Soul Forged in the Flames of War
The Glory Queen-class, the Empire's most powerful warships, whose power shakes the entire star system.

Who can withstand her blows?

Unrivaled! No alien warship can withstand its wrath.

The Abomination Exemplar maintained its speed, and its broadside weapons were simultaneously targeting eight alien warships—the limit of its firing range.

The light spears blazed like the sun, all the torpedoes were launched, and the heavy cannons never stopped firing.

With a hull spanning over twenty kilometers, not a single weapon remained silent; all were unleashed upon the alien warship.

The shields of the eight Randan warships instantly overloaded, and the Abomination Exemplar brushed past them, disappearing into the distance at an extremely high speed.

The Randan fleet had no time to celebrate; the warships' escape from the attack foreshadowed imminent destruction.

Before the shields could be raised again, the human silver-white warships attacked; these were the real killing blows!

These strangely shaped warships, with their unique styles, ended up being defeated by their own firepower.

The light spears flashed, and the cannons roared. Eight warships with their shields shattered were torn apart by the firepower, becoming new space wreckage.

"Lord of the Heavenly Army, the deck's warning signal has been triggered; we've been boarded."

The Thinker array, with its surface composed of hundreds or thousands of bionic faces, reported the warship's status rapidly: "The sixth deck area has been invaded."

A contemplative being that blends mechanics and biological neural networks—a creation of the Empire after it abandoned artificial intelligence.

The mechanical teacher implanted human brain tissue into the computer, acting as a logical thinker.

"Notify the Legion warriors," the Lord of the Heavenly Army quickly instructed the Thinker.
"Surround Randan from multiple directions, clear out all slave laborers in the area, and prevent the spread of alien mental pollution."

“Understood.” The Thinker’s bionic mouthpiece responded, its tone mechanically cold: “Deploying Space Marines.”

The Lord of the Heavenly Army nodded, no longer paying attention to the boarding incident, and focused all his attention on the direction of the Exemplar of Hatred's advance.

He must create a storm to lure the enemy deep into his territory.

We don't know what the Primarch is planning, but it must be a major event that affects the course of the war.

On the ground battlefield, Randan's ground forces also made moves, with human slaves emerging from their hive.

After a long siege, most of the people were listless, pale, and physically weak.

Without its primary energy source, the hive city struggles to produce enough resources to support its massive human servant army.

Ran Dan could not possibly spare any food to sustain the "pigs and dogs" in their eyes.

"Grand Master, defense and offense are sufficient; the time for a general offensive has not yet arrived." Atum, inside the command fortress, displayed Urian's figure on the communication channel.

“Yes, Commander Atum.” Urian smiled, his face ruddy and full of energy.

With the Nur Legion providing support during these days of continuous attacks on the aliens, Urian was able to rest and regroup.

The Grand Master's expression turned serious as he said to Atum, "We will hold our defensive base and will not launch a rash attack."

Urian was willing to obey battlefield orders, and he knew very well who Atum represented.

The true mastermind is the Primarch in space; that being directs the overall direction of the battlefield.

Deep down, he was willing to cooperate with Atum in return for the generous support from the Nur Legion.

During the few days of ground garrisoning, Nur sent a lot of supplies to reward the imperial army and legion soldiers.

"Initiate artillery fire." After disconnecting from communications, Urian ordered the artillery positions to begin attacking the human minions: "Extend the fire, conduct carpet bombing."

"First combat sequence, move into combat position; second combat sequence, prepare to take over and defend against the onslaught of the crowd."

The Grand Master was no longer stingy. He withdrew from the two defensive bases and sent all his troops back to the main base. He now had a large number of troops at his disposal.

As the bombardment began, the Imperial army, having rested and regrouped, was thrown back into battle.

The Nur defense line is long, forming a slightly curved sector that surrounds one-fifth of the outer perimeter of the hive capital.

250,000 ordinary human auxiliary troops, 2.5 million level-500,000 automated machine soldiers, and various heavy firepower support.

Everyone was on high alert, preparing to defend against Ran Dan's attack, which was met with a massive onslaught of human servants.

"Commander, should we deploy artillery and Titans?" the mortal legion commander asked Atum, standing beside the command platform.

“Not for now.” Atum focused on the crowds on the battlefield without looking up: “Our troops need training to face any type of enemy.”

"Those fallen compatriots may be the crucible for tempering will, letting the soldiers know the cruelty of the battlefield."

"Temper their will with blood, and they will grow into true warriors." "I understand." The mortal legion commander said no more and retreated to his position.

He sat back in his chair, in front of him was a blue holographic projection, allowing him to command his legion at any time.

Atum's central command tower surveys the entire globe, with warships in space constantly scanning the Morse world.

All the inhabitants of all the nest cities poured out and converged here, turning the holographic image a blood red.

He did not call in orbital bombardment, but rather used such pressure to broaden the horizons of the Nurfan auxiliary army.

In the boundless sea of ​​stars, such battlefields are everywhere. To conquer the starry sea, one must not only face aliens, but also pull the trigger on one's own kind.

Atum coldly swept his gaze across the blood-red enemy, his eyes devoid of any emotion, and issued the commander's order: "No mechs are allowed. Engage the enemy with the defensive lines."

His commands were not relayed to the soldiers, but rather transmitted to the terminals of the various legion commanders.

The Nur Legion has a strict hierarchy, and command is never delegated to a higher level. The commander-in-chief is responsible for the overall strategy, while the legion commanders are responsible for executing strategic actions.

Battalion and company commanders in the corps are responsible for tactical execution and specific frontline responses.

"Within the defensive positions at the front, orders were relayed layer by layer by junior officers, and communications were quickly relayed to the soldiers under their command:"
"Turn off the aiming assist system, turn off the visual telescope, turn off..."

With a whoosh, the soldiers moved in perfect unison, disabling the automatic aiming of their weapons and shutting down all the functions inside their helmets.

"Soldiers! We have no support right now. Simulate the most brutal battlefield and defend against the enemy's attack!"

A battalion commander leading a thousand men is inspecting the defense line.

The soldier's distinctively rough voice echoed in the battalion-level communications: "Our progress is several years behind our counterparts."

"Maintain the front line, and remember what we learned at the War College!"

The ground began to tremble, and human slaves surged forward like a tidal wave, pressing towards the lines between the Empire and Nur; the scene was horrifying.

"For King Norwick!" the battalion commander shouted hoarsely, his voice echoing across the defensive line without passing through the communications channel.

"For King Norwick!" His battle cry resonated, and all the soldiers on the front lines roared back, their heavy voices shattering the dark clouds.

"For the Lord of Mankind!" came the battle cry from the Imperial front.

Facing an enemy that far outnumbered them, they roared fearlessly, knowing they would win.

The Primarch resides in space, while the Emperor watches over Terra.

“I’ve never seen so many people before.” In the Nur front, a Night Guard looked relaxed as he chatted with his colleague.

His armor was not white, but the original gray of steel, with the Doom mark engraved on his shoulder armor.

This Night Guardian experienced the orc siege, participated in the War of Truth, and witnessed the rise of Doom Norwick.

To signify the glory of the Night Guard, Doom gave them their original color, distinguishing them from the later Night Guard.

"Aren't you nervous?" The new recruit, clad in white armor, gripped his spear tightly, his fingertips trembling slightly from the pressure of the battlefield.

“Tense? What’s that?” The veteran scoffed, putting his hand on the shoulder of the man who came after him. “The battlefields I’ve been on are a million times more terrifying than this.”

"What is that?" the new recruit asked curiously. He knew Nur's history, a part of which had been deleted.

"I hope you never experience it in your life." The veteran shook his head and solemnly told the newcomer, "That is the deepest terror, and only courage and will can overcome it."

Having said that, the veteran fell silent, raised his spear, and led the new recruits to patrol the battle line, protecting the mortal auxiliary troops.

Having disabled various auxiliary systems and abandoned long-range shooting capabilities, the legion commanders decided to let the enemy enter within 500 meters before engaging them.

The legion commanders were confident that the weapons in their hands could withstand the surging crowds.

The battle has already begun at the Imperial front, with red laser beams weaving a death blockade, mobilizing the human brethren before them.

Having experienced the most critical moments, they were naturally adept and handled the situation without the slightest panic.

Stray bullets occasionally streaked across Nur's lines, and the slave army's automatic guns opened fire on the lines.

Bullets struck the power armor with a series of loud thuds, stray bullets rained down, each one striking at the recruits' hearts.

The Night Watchers watched with great interest, smiles on their faces beneath their helmets, as they observed how the mortals, undergoing simplified guard training, controlled their inner fears.

"Hey!" In this extremely tense moment, a veteran guard suddenly shouted.

(End of this chapter)