Warhammer 40: Doom

Chapter 247 You Can't Foole Us
The Thirteenth Army Corps.

One of the most powerful legions in the human empire, their fury in war often terrifies their enemies.

The fleet of the Fourth Dalian received a distress signal from the Nur Starship while patrolling the void.

Generally, when a distress signal is sent out in a wide-area public area, the situation is extremely critical.

Without much hesitation, the fourth company commander led the fleet into subspace and headed straight for the battle zone.

The enemy forces are most likely Randan's servants!
This information surprised and delighted the company commander. He was surprised by the depth of Ran Dan's infiltration, which had reached the depths of the Eastern End Star Region, but delighted by Ran Dan's reappearance.

This battle may well lay the foundation for the legion's glory!

He immediately ordered his fleet to surround and encircle Randan's vassal army to prevent the enemy from escaping.

"Fleet, obey my command," Guilliman commanded in a deep voice, the majesty of the King of Macragge resounding throughout the fleet via electronic signals: "All ships disengage from combat, leave this space domain, and proceed to Macragge for regrouping."

"This battle was a mistake, perhaps a misunderstanding, or perhaps it was intentional, turning what could have been a harmonious encounter into a bloody tragedy."

"Fleet, withdraw!"

King of Macurag, his decision is beyond question, the great leader brings prosperity to Ottaramar.

The fleet immediately sped up and disengaged from the battle, moving towards the dark edge of the star system under mutual cover.

Faced with the overwhelming force of the unfamiliar, if they did not break away, they would be surrounded and annihilated by a large number of ships.

Guilliman recognized the danger and ordered the ships to evacuate. Regardless of whether the future held promise or not, preserving strength was in line with the Makulaig's strategic needs.

"Filthy creatures, devoid of courage and honor! Scoundrels cowering in filth!"

As the fleet withdrew, the public channel once again erupted with furious shouts and curses, stinging every Macraglian:

"Hypocritical, despicable, and utterly weak! Where are your alien lords? Let them come and face our wrath!"

Even a rational and tolerant man like Guilliman had a livid face, his hands clenched into fists, constantly suppressing the anger surging within him.

His nature drove him to rage, wanting to rush forward, swing his iron fist, smash the provocateur's teeth, and pull out his tongue to wash away the humiliation.

Reason suppressed Guilliman's rage, making him understand the current situation and the importance of prioritizing the greater good to prevent war between the two empires.

He shook his head, took a few deep breaths to cool off and combat the heat, and urged the fleet to carry out his orders.

Guilliman ignored the insults and provocations on the public channel, and the other party shut down two-way communication, unilaterally unleashing verbal violence.

But he still listened, constantly acquiring information and building models in his mind.

Guilliman has probably figured it out.

The vanguard fleets of the Human Empire and the Nur Star System are searching the void for a dangerous alien creature called "Randan".

They can control minds and are a great enemy of the human race, something that must be eliminated.

The Macurag fleet, for reasons currently unknown, attacked the Nur Star System and was labeled as "Randan's vassals".

Guilliman stared at the holographic map, watching his fleet escape the encirclement, a resolute glint in his eyes.

He lowered his voice and gave the order to the captain: "Captain, please move the ship alongside."

Guilliman pointed to the captured friendly warship on the hologram and ordered his ship to move closer.

"Sir," the captain said, his heart pounding with panic, but he quickly suppressed it. His duty prevented him from showing any sign of panic. He choked out, his voice stiff, "We might not be able to come back from here."

That captured warship was also a key target for the enemy, and the destination of many warships' voyages.

“I understand, Captain.” Guilliman looked at the middle-aged man and gave him a reassuring smile. “That’s the origin of the conflict. I have to find out what caused it.”

“My personal safety, or the loss of this ship, is far less important than the safety and future of Ottara.”

"If this incident cannot be resolved, what kind of thunderous retaliation will our home world face?"

The captain remained silent, drew a navigation route on the holographic map, and ordered the ship to proceed at full speed.

Fortunately, the space region where the fallen warships were located was relatively close to our side, allowing us to arrive earlier than the human empire.

"Disable weapon systems, turn on light signals, and convey a non-hostile message."

The captain kept issuing orders, carrying out his personal assessment of the situation, and demonstrating the ship's harmlessness with the utmost sincerity.

Guilliman nodded repeatedly; the captain had indeed done his best and demonstrated great sincerity.

The legion commander didn't see it that way. In any case, ships and forces bearing the Randan label became synonymous with despicable and shameless.

The harmless signal and the disarming of weapons were the beginning of the scheme. The Nur Stars have already explained the cause of the incident: Macurag tricked them into boarding the ship and launched a surprise attack at close range.

Isn't the situation now the same as it was back then?

Pretend to be harmless, and launch a deadly sneak attack when the empire lowers its guard.

Once bitten by a snake, you will be afraid of straw ropes for ten years.

The Empire will not trust its enemies! The Legion will not hesitate!
"Intrigues and tricks cannot fool us!" The company commander's will was as firm as iron, and he issued the attack order: "Paralyze the enemy ships, and let them talk in their cages."

The light spear pierced the universe, attacking enemy ships and preventing them from approaching the sunken vessel.

Fighter jets flew out of the hangar, carrying anti-ship missiles, determined to sink the enemy ship.

Du~du~du~
Alarms sounded on the flagship as the ship vibrated, and red and green lights alternated, reflecting Guilliman's ever-changing expression.

He sensed the determination of the human empire; that raging fleet commander had shown no hesitation once he identified his target.

"Multiple parts of the ship's deck have been damaged, and the enemy's technology far surpasses ours!" Reports kept coming from the bridge, and the crew members' voices were choked with tears: "As the distance closes, the enemy's weapons will become even more powerful."

"Raise the shields!" The captain's shout drowned out his sobs as he raised the shields in the face of the attack.

"I'm leaving this to you. I need to prepare to board the ship." Guilliman said expressionlessly as he walked to the elevator, then turned back and said loudly, "May the glory of Macragge live on forever."

He looked at the bridge with deep respect one last time, until the elevator doors slowly closed.

"May the glory of Macurag live on forever!"

The captain saluted the giant, his eyes showing no fear, only composure and fearlessness in the face of sacrifice.

They all knew that regardless of the outcome of the boarding negotiations, the warship would never return.

The warships of the human empire show no mercy; their dense array of light spears will tear the warships apart without the slightest hesitation.

The Thirteenth Legion warships and the Macurag warships rapidly approached each other, centered on the sunken ship.

"Board!" At close range, the fourth company commander issued the order to board, instructing his corps brothers to attack the enemy warship.

"For the glory of the Legion!" the warriors roared as they boarded the boarding boats and launched a thunderous attack.

The boarding ship pierced through the icy void, its molten steel lances melting through the hull, releasing the most elite warriors of the human empire—the Astartes.

A burly man in blue power armor, wielding a bomb gun, bursts out of the boarding boat and launches a sustained attack on the ship's interior.

Guilliman saw this scene before boarding the shuttle, and his pupils contracted sharply.

Those warriors were unlike anything he had ever seen before; they were tall, exuding a murderous aura, and moved with incredible speed, their teamwork seamless and coordinated.

He also had a unique feeling that the soldiers were both familiar and unfamiliar, as if they had some connection with him.

Then, the soldiers who disembarked pointed their guns at Guilliman and pulled the triggers, shooting him.

Thick smoke billowed from the thermal ablation near the boarding boat.

Before the thick smoke had cleared, the Space Marines had already locked onto the outline through their helmet visors and opened fire.

Tall, genetically engineered slaves? The Thirteenth Legion soldiers have locked onto a high-threat target!
"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

In an instant, Guilliman's vision pierced through the smoke, and he saw at least six soldiers firing at him.

Guilliman saw the trajectory of the bullet as it passed through the smoke and immediately took cover, which was not difficult for him.

He dodged the attack, but his entourage did not; their chests and heads were blown apart.

Guilliman's heart sank to the bottom as he assessed the enemy's weapons and concluded that they could harm him.

Although those armored warriors were not as strong as he was, their sheer numbers gave them an overwhelming advantage over ordinary people.

While dodging bullets, Guilliman's brain was still working at high speed, gathering information and intelligence, and deducing the future battle situation.

The Empire of Man possesses at least thirteen such armies, and these powerful warriors are far beyond what Macragge can withstand!

Even if I were to join in, it wouldn't be enough!
Just as he was in shock, he suddenly felt a pain in his chest as a stray bullet struck Guilliman, shattering the chest armor he was wearing.

Instinctively, he looked down at the gap, his brain tracing the type of bullet—a self-propelled explosive bullet.

"Om~Om~Om~"

A savage roar of engines filled the air, smoke billowed, and a restless atmosphere permeated the scene as the boarding warrior drew his chainsaw sword.

(End of this chapter)