Warhammer, I'm a nanny, not your father!

Only Evelynnia and the girls in the rebel army who had also received Wop's teachings, these young sparks were destined to shoulder the fate of the two worlds one day.

……

The transport ship slowly landed on the apron, and the loading and unloading team on standby moved closer to the apron and neatly stacked the cargo boxes on the platform into the cargo hold.

Will jumped out of the cockpit nimbly, and the mechanical joints made a crisp hydraulic sound.

Blaney whistled, "Are you getting used to your new legs?"

Will tapped his knuckles on his prosthetic leg, making a thud. "This is a high-end product prepared for the nobles of other worlds. It's a thousand times better than my rusty old leg. Even if I'm not used to it, I have to get used to it."

Blaney handed the still steaming wheat bread to the driver. "Is it really that serious? No one is stealing it from you."

Will grabbed the bread and stuffed it into his mouth ravenously, crumbs falling down his stubble. "No one grabbed it? That's under your rule. If it were the Technical Guild, I'd be stinking by now. Is this the last batch?"

Britney: "Thanks for your hard work. Someone will take your place on the next shift."

Will: "A drink?"

"I'm still on a mission, so let's do it tonight."

The rebels have occupied the spaceport for more than ninety standard days. After the war gradually subsided, this interstellar hub is gradually returning to its former bustling state.

In the early days of the rebels' takeover of the spaceport, the workers were all silent, fearing that working for them would lead to the liquidation of the technical guild.

However, as time goes by, the hope of the technology guild making a comeback becomes increasingly slim.

Under the pressure of survival, the workers eventually returned to their respective jobs one after another.

The bureaucrats of the Technical Guild were also identified one by one by the Thinkers. Those with heinous crimes were shot directly, while those with less serious crimes were temporarily imprisoned.

The spaceport is no longer the trade hub it once was, but a vital strategic fortress and transit center for the rebels.

A large amount of strategic resources were continuously gathered to Lycaeus, now renamed the Savior Star, to build a solid strategic reserve for the rebels;

The main force of the rebel army also completed its strategic assembly at the spaceport and was vigorously advancing pre-war deployment and actual combat exercises against Chiaval.

One hundred thousand rebel troops have been assembled at the spaceport, and every soldier is preparing for the upcoming strategic decisive battle.

Chiavar is still mired in civil war, and the flames of war are dragging the world into a deeper abyss of chaos.

As one side gained strength while the other side lost strength, the morale of the rebels grew stronger and stronger like a prairie fire.

The rebels waited with bated breath for Corax's command, while Corax waited for a fleeting opportunity to fight.

However, you never know which will come first, tomorrow or an accident.

……

"Ten standard hours from now," Corax's voice boomed in the tactical conference room, "I will personally lead the vanguard to seize the orbital elevator."

"Sharokin, you are in full command of the spaceport's defense system."

"Evrenia, contact the Whitney Technical Guild in seven standard hours. We will launch our attack in twelve hours. They must cooperate with us."

Corax's combat deployment was flawless. Not only did he accurately plan the specific responsibilities of each team, but he also deduced all potential variables with almost paranoid rigor.

Even a low-probability event like the Technology Guild taking advantage of the chaos to raid the spaceport, with a probability of less than one in ten thousand, was carefully addressed in his tactical plan.

Corax believed that Sharokin was fully capable of defending the spaceport independently, but since he had the spare energy to carefully arrange strategic deployments, why not do it?

"Savior." Agapito's voice was tense on the communication channel, like a fully drawn bowstring. "I... I'm not sure if I saw it wrong."

Corax: "What do you see?"

"Deep space scanners have detected an unidentified fleet, and they're heading towards us!"

Sharokin's pupils shrank suddenly. "Is it Kiaval's trade fleet? Why would they return so early?"

……

At the command center, Corax stared at the holographic star map, and his voice was like a frozen lake.

"Arapito, display the scan results on the star map."

Corax's pupils reflected the sudden burst of scarlet from the holographic star map. The deep space quadrant that was empty a second ago was now swallowed up by a tide of red light.

Thirty giant red triangular marks were the first to pierce the star map, followed by two hundred diamond-shaped marks that emerged like a swarm of locusts, with countless tiny spots of light scattered around them.

The data sent back by the deep space scanning array was refreshed frantically on the tactical screen, and the ship identification signal spread like a plague, its scale even exceeding the system's initial carrying threshold.

Agapito's breathing was ragged and rapid, as if someone was strangling his windpipe. "I've calibrated it three times. The Thinker's logic unit confirms the correct readings from the voice-controlled scanner. The fleet's cruising speed is stable at 0.75°C, and the course correction accuracy is less than 0.001 arc seconds."

The outline data of each large ship caused the Thinker's core to issue an overload alarm. The Thinker had never seen such a large target, so Agapito initially even mistakenly thought it was just a group of meteorites.

However, the speed of meteorite swarms is far less than 75% of the speed of light, and their trajectories are difficult to achieve such precise directionality.

Sharokin's Adam's apple rolled. "This can't be Kiavar's trade fleet. The technical guild doesn't have that kind of scale."

Those densely packed red triangular signs were not the bulky merchant fleets of Kiavar, but rather the distinctive spearhead formations of a battle fleet.

Even if they knew nothing about space warfare, just looking at those densely packed red signs was enough to make their scalps tingle.

Wop calmly reassured, "It's probably the Empire. Don't worry, they're not the enemy."

"They came for me." Corax's drooping eyelashes hid his eyes, and his knuckles tightened silently at his sides.

The day has finally come.

"Sharokin, order the troops to stand by in the assembly area. The operation is terminated."

"Agapito, attempt to establish a communication link."

Agapito: "Their distance is beyond effective communication range."

"Hold the call until they are in range."

Corax's voice was deep and filled with suppressed anger: "I hate this feeling!"

Wop: "Only this time, you will have your own legion and fleet in the future."

Worp knew Corax too well to fully understand the reason for this anger.

Corax meticulously planned every detail, developing a flawless strategy for the capture of Chiavar.

However, on the eve of the action, the Imperial Fleet, like a deus ex machina, crushed his painstakingly crafted plan into pieces.

The Empire's vast fleet was no match for him. It was like watching an out-of-control train roaring towards him, knowing that it would skid over six lives on two tracks at once, but unable to move a finger.

This flaw was not unique to Corax, but to all Primarchs.

The frustration and powerlessness caused by the concept of being unable to overcome it even if you try your best are often too heavy, and anyone will instinctively develop psychological resistance.

The more powerful a person is, the deeper his sense of frustration is.

If the weak can accept their weakness calmly, they will actually achieve another kind of invincibility.

The Imperial Fleet arrived at the wrong time.

If Corax had already liberated Kiaval, his mood would be completely different.

Agapito: "Savior, we have received a communication request from the fleet."

"Remain silent and keep calling."

The effective communication range is mutual.

Since they can receive the fleet's communication requests, the fleet can naturally intercept their communication signals.

Since the Empire chose to remain silent regarding their communication requests, Corax also decided to respond with silence.

He was clearly aware that there was a hint of anger in this, because he knew what the arrival of the Imperial Fleet meant.

The communications deadlock was quickly broken, and the Imperial fleet finally answered the communication request.

A holographic projection suddenly unfolded in the center of the command center, and the cold blue light reflected Corax's solemn face.

The person who appeared before him was not the expected Imperial officer, but a pale giant.

"I am Konrad Curze, son of Worp, Primarch of the Imperium of Man, Lord of the 85th Expeditionary Fleet, Father of the 8th Legion, Liberator of Nostramo."

His voice was low and elegant, yet held a disturbing rhythm, as if each syllable echoed softly in the darkness.

"It's nice to meet you, my dear brother."

Corax's gaze was fixed on him, the giant's night-blue armor was like a solidified shadow, his pale face glowed with a sickly luster in the dim light, and there was an unreadable smile at the corner of his mouth.

It is neither sarcastic nor enthusiastic, but clearly playful.

Corax hated his smile.

"Corvus Corax, it's nice to see you too, brother."

Corax's voice was low and controlled; he wouldn't lose his composure in front of his father.

Koz's gaze slowly shifted to the other side, his voice softer than before.

"Welcome back, Dad."

……

Corax had originally planned to personally meet with Curze aboard the 85th Fleet's flagship, but Curze refused him.

The steel deck trembled under the weight of the Stormbird as its engines roared to life as it landed on the spaceport.

The moment the hatch opened, the figure of the Primarch appeared in the steaming heat wave.

Koz came in person and gave his brother the highest courtesy with the most solemn attitude.

He had shed his power armor and was wearing only the same blue and white uniform as Worp.

Wop: "Koz, why is it you?"

Koz slowly knelt, his knees making a dull thud as they touched the floor. He bowed his head slightly, a gentle ripple in his eyes.

"Father, don't you want to see me?"

"I'm just curious."

Wop opened his arms and hugged him gently. Fortunately, Curze was not wearing power armor, otherwise he would not be able to complete this action.

Curze explained softly, "A month ago, the Navigator discovered a smooth warp passage on Terra. I realized that another of my brothers was about to return, so I came here."

"Where's the Emperor?"

Curze: "The Emperor is on a crusade."

The Emperor was indeed on a crusade, so Curze was able to find his brother before the Emperor.

Wop: "Have you met with the other brothers?"

"I have met Lorgar and Russ, but Angron does not seem ready."

"Isn't there Horus?" Confusion flashed across Wop's eyes.

Coates: "He wouldn't meet with any of us."

"Has any of the Primarchs seen him?"

"Yes."

Wop frowned. "I'm beginning to doubt whether Horus has truly returned."

Koz: "Do you need me to confirm this for you?"

"No need," Wop shook his head. "What if he really comes back and just doesn't want to meet you? There's no need to force it. We'll meet sooner or later."

Koz nodded: "I'll listen to you."

"My brother." Corax's voice emerged from the shadows, low and cold. "Have you forgotten the purpose of your journey?"

His brother kept saying that he came all the way here just for him, but since he landed, he was just talking enthusiastically with Wop and didn't even give him a polite glance.

Corax didn't care whether Curze treated him with courtesy or brotherly respect, but he suspected Curze of having ulterior motives.

"Of course I haven't forgotten, my dear brother."

Curze slowly straightened up, silently staring at the stranger who had interrupted his reunion with his father.

His eyes were neither angry nor contemptuous, but more like a kind of scrutiny with interest.

"I'm here to help you."

Chapter 116 Corax: I am relieved (5K)

The spaceship cut through the light gray clouds of Nostramo like a sharp blade, and finally landed steadily on the apron at the top of the hive spire.