Warhammer 40: My Fiancée Fulgrim

Quickly change the subject!

"Lord Dorn, I've heard rumors that Lord Ryan seems to be keen to compete for the next Warmaster."

Kasga said with an awkward laugh.

"Warmaster?"

Rogdorn's eyes were filled with doubt.

"What War General?"

Chapter 156 Imitating Others (Part 1)

Sigismund, the Templar Master of the Seventh Legion's Imperial Fist, walked into a commercial plaza shattered by gunfire.

This is the designated landing site.

The bizarre, abstract sculptures in the square have been dismantled by the engineering team, and the facades that depicted scenes of depravity have been cleaned up one by one with explosives and incendiary promethium.

The entire square, like the resistance of the Scacia, was shattered and riddled with holes.

All that remained was the lingering, incomplete smoke and dust on the rooftops of the distant square.

Sigismund looked again at the long line of his fellow members of the Holy Brotherhood.

The battles against the Scacias were not glorious:

After Rogdorn brought in his Mountain Array, the Scatheian air fleet was quickly wiped out by the terrifying firepower of this invincible spaceship.

Then, three fully armed Astartes Legions, commanded by Rogdorn, deployed their surface forces in conjunction with an orbital strike.

Now, a breach has been torn in the Scacia's forces.

The surface forces will gradually build fortifications, and with the support of the flagship in orbit, they will eventually succeed in taking over the entire planet Scacia.

And as everyone predicted, the tide of war had completely turned in favor of the human empire.

The main fleets of the three legions have already controlled the orbit of the entire planet, and the aircraft continue to circle and roar in the sky.

The recapture of the planet seems to be a foregone conclusion.

Even though the Scacias were still putting up a stubborn resistance, they could only shorten the time it took for the front lines to collapse.

Whether it takes six hours or sixty hours, the three Primarchs from the Imperium of Man will ultimately prevail.

Sigismund recalled his conversation with Dorn not long ago.

"Now, halt the bombing."

“Tell them that it’s pointless to turn the entire planet to ashes, even though we could do it easily. Signal again, demanding their surrender.”

Rogdorn's orders reached his ears.

While the battle was underway and the surface-dropped forces were locked in combat with the Scathian defenders, the Primarch chose to cease hostilities.

Even though they had changed their minds about surrendering to this planet many times, the Primarch still gave those who resisted one last chance to surrender.

Scacia has been chosen by the Empire as the future "gateway" world.

Whether in the real universe or the unpredictable routes of the subspace, it is located in a core nodal region.

Scacia's location is crucial as a key node system in order to transport troops and resources to the expeditionary fleet.

This is why the main forces of the three Astartes legions from the human empire were deployed here to ensure that control of the system could be seized with minimal losses.

This was something that not only the Primarchs understood, but the Scatheians also understood.

This strategically important geographical location is precisely the capital they use to assert their authority.

"Do you have any more questions, Company Commander?"

“I think we should stop being merciful to them, sir.”

"While large-scale bombing may cause extensive collateral damage, our warships are in position and can provide us with precise orbital support. With these precise and efficient support interventions, our advance can be greatly accelerated."

"But it could also force the enemy to fight a desperate battle."

Dorn refuted this.

His imposing figure seemed to overlap with the light of the holographic projection in a moment of daze.

Hundreds of lights shone on his golden armor, reflecting a dazzling light that was almost blinding.

"I understand, my lord."

"But right now, many soldiers of the Legion, both our own and our allies', are struggling on the brink of death," Sigismund said. "Life is indeed precious, but shouldn't we, in a way, value our own lives even more?"

“It’s a trade-off,” Dorn said after a moment of silence.

"We will never know whether a precise strike against the enemy will clear obstacles in our advance or make them even more frenzied and unruly."

"You may be right at times, but we only have one chance to choose."

It has nothing to do with morality or mercy; it's just the most basic exchange of human lives.

"Therefore, I hope you can trust my judgment—whether it's this time or many future choices."

Even the most idealistic person, after being tempered on the real battlefield, will inevitably become cold-blooded and indifferent.

"Yes, my lord."

The war is almost over.

Just moments before, he had finished giving a speech to an elite Templar squad—three hundred warriors, almost an entire company, had gathered in the square.

The tree-lined avenue leading to the center of the capital was dilapidated and littered with rubble.

Many of the Brotherhood of Saints' companies were drawn from planets around the world to join the Mountain Array, serving as honor guards in accordance with Primarch specifications.

If it were a single legion's expeditionary fleet, the requirements for the legion's external appearance wouldn't be so strict, but now that it's a joint expeditionary fleet of three legions, things are very different from before.

Presumably, the other two legions are also putting on a show of pretense in the same way.

Especially the sons of emperors.

Before receiving accurate casualty reports, even Sigismund himself, the Lord of the Sanctuary, did not know how many of his comrades-in-arms, whom he had been laughing and joking with just yesterday, would die tragically.

Or rather, war itself is never a meaningful thing—it is a continuation of politics, a means by which one group uses another group to achieve a certain purpose.

It is not honorable.

Whether the opposing side is aliens or a human force that refuses to submit, war is never a glorious or honorable thing.

Even Sigismund, known as the "Black Knight," who was the pride of the many fighting brothers of the Imperial Fist, thought the same way.

As the Great Crusade progresses smoothly, more and more Primarchs are returning to the Imperium. Once they take control of their own legions, the Astartes' fighting strength will rise to another level!

Where in the entire Milky Way can one find an alien force that can rival the great human empire?

No!

Soon the human empire will unify the world, and human civilization will move toward a bright future under the leadership of the human emperor and the eighteen Legion Primarchs.

The Great Crusade is nearing perfection as more and more worlds submit and more and more Primarchs return.

But by then, only the great human empire remained in the entire galaxy.

Will the war really end?

Or is it simply replacing the fight between humans and aliens with a fight between humans and humans?

Sigismund's thoughts were interrupted by the roar of fighter jet engines overhead.

The transport ship's splendid appearance heralded the arrival of the Primarchs.

Sigismund, you're thinking about things you shouldn't be thinking about again.

He pulled himself out of his thoughts and looked at the fighter jets in the sky.

Escorted by fighter squadrons whose paint schemes represented their respective legion colors, aircraft in purple and gold, yellow and black, and black, white and red hovered in the sky.

Those were the vehicles of the three Primarchs, who were about to meet on the surface of this planet.

Rogdorn is an absolutely fair and just man, even to the point of being somewhat absolute and egalitarian.

When choosing the location for the Primarch's landing and the formal meeting, he would always choose a planet that did not favor either side.

Even though everyone knows that the size of the Mountain Formation alone is enough to make it larger than all the warships of the other two legions combined.

However, Dorne insisted on meeting on the planet's surface to demonstrate that there was no distinction of rank or status among the Emperor's children.

—Even if they don't have the Mountain Array.

The three Primarchs' transport ships are landing.

Before the transport ship landed, the Emperor's Son fighter jets performed a precise and elegant coordinated circle around it before roaring back into the thick clouds.

Sigismund: "."

Ugh.

Oh well, he is, after all, an imperial prince.

He strode towards the Imperial Fist's transport ship, fulfilling his role as Rogdorn's personal guard while simultaneously serving as the Lord of the Temple.

The three Primarchs and their guards are clearly distinguished:

The Phoenix Guard of Fulgrim, clad in shimmering purple-gold armor, followed behind the only female Primarch among the three Primarchs, who was also the most beautiful and radiant Primarch in the past.

Of course, she would not admit that her title as the most beautiful woman in the empire only existed in the past.

Even if he had seen Saint Gilles in person.

After all, no one dared to ask her this question to her face.

Having once served as the emperor's honor guard, they marched steadily in unison, with a long, narrow banner above their heads bearing the imperial eagle.

Meanwhile, the elite Caliban paladins of the Dark Angels followed their Primarch in column formation, their red, black, and white banners adorned with Caliban's emblem and mystical symbols fluttering in the wind.

As for the Imperial Fist, they are—the Ground Platform! (X)

Pooh.

The Templars of the Imperial Fist did not brandish their light blades, but instead stood neatly around Rogdorn, clad in yellow and black power armor.

Rogdorn, clad entirely in pure gold armor, stood out remarkably during this meeting.

“We command one of the most powerful armies in history, Rogge. Don’t take our temporary delay on this rock too seriously.”

The lion stared at Rogdorn, one hand on his chin, the other fiddling with the ornate hilt of his sword.

In the temporary camp set up by the Institute of Mechanics, the three Primarchs, along with their most trusted bodyguards, held a formal meeting.

"Although extinction is not our intention, we must always consider the possibility of it whenever we encounter a galaxy."

It was not intended to exterminate them.

It should be said that the lion is indeed using extinction orders as a routine measure.

This seems to be his true intention.

Compared to other Primarchs who are far more cautious about weapons capable of causing excessive damage on a large scale, the Lion seems to be under little pressure.

Throw it away if you want.

As long as the resistance forces can be annihilated, the lion will not give up an opportunity to issue an extermination order.

(There was even a ruthless act of secretly throwing extermination orders into Guilliman's Five Hundred Worlds in order to capture Kurtz.)

(Angrily, Koz angrily denounced Ryan as a traitor and a serial killer.)

Outside the round table, Casca, who was following behind the Primarch as a bodyguard, and Sigismund, who was also a bodyguard of the Primarch beside him, exchanged glances.

Is he planning to issue another extermination order?

That goes without saying.

Although neither of them uttered a single word, their eyes spoke volumes.

Hagi Lion, you rely too much on the Super Extinction Order.

Although the Primarchs had a strict hierarchy among the Space Marines, Kasgar had a particularly strong memory of this—especially when Fugrim often used it to pressure him.

But the opinions of those below can never be silenced by any prohibitions or rules.

In particular, in order to speed up the Great Expedition and reduce the casualties of the Dark Angels, the Lion King often used the Extinction Order to bombard some difficult targets.