Warhammer 40: My Fiancée Fulgrim

The Imperial Army was almost entirely wiped out by the nuclear attack, with only a fraction surviving. The few who did manage to survive contracted severe radiation sickness.

It can be said that after this one battle, the ground forces of the 413 Expeditionary Fleet were almost completely wiped out.

"Blame me"

Cicero, seemingly having anticipated this situation, closed his eyes in anguish.

"So what's the current situation of the war?"

"In the next battle, I will definitely avenge my brothers."

"It's over, Cicero."

Amar from the Thousand Sons Think Tank spoke with great optimism, "Soon we will be on this warship receiving the surrender ceremony from Lord Gadinar!"

After concluding their visit to Cicero, the leader of the Ultramarines Chapter, the three walked side by side through the lifeless passageways of the Ironfist, heading towards the Hall of Forging, Iron Hand's meeting room, to receive the surrender of the Gadinars.

"Wait a minute, friend."

Casca called out to the Thousand Sons Think Tank members who were walking briskly ahead.

"Ok?"

"Do you really believe the Gadinars have come to surrender?"

"Huh? Yeah, what else?"

"Under Lady Phyllis's absolute firepower, these frogs in a well will surely be terrified and will never dare to provoke the Primarch and the Empire's authority again."

Amal was somewhat puzzled by Casga's question.

How should I put it? There's a kind of naive stupidity about it.

Kasgar had always thought that he, a soul from the past, was clear-headed and foolish enough.

I never expected there would be such a master here with Qianzi.

All I can say is that he looks a lot like his genetic father.

"You met the ruler of Gadinar during the earlier negotiations, didn't you, Amar?"

Why did your negotiations break down, and what impression did they leave on you?

“I still remember that they were all very rational during the negotiations,” Amar said, resting his chin on his hand as he fell into thought. “They seemed to be trying their best to avoid war.”

"But in the end, war was still on the verge of breaking out, wasn't it? Even though you think they are all peace-loving."

"My friend, I don't know why either."

"Amar, Amar, don't you understand their double-dealing?"

Gadinar possesses well-preserved industrial facilities from the Dark Ages, which the Empire covets.

Therefore, during the negotiations, the delegation represented by Amar tried to remain cautious in order to avoid the outbreak of war.

"But unfortunately, they interpreted your caution as weakness. From then on, they believed they had an opportunity to take advantage of you."

"So, is it my fault?"

Amar lowered his head with a sad expression.

"of course not."

"To be precise, this battle was bound to happen."

“If power could be so easily relinquished, the High Lord of Gadinar would not have chosen to stir up the storm in the first place.”

What truly ignites war is the arrogance and lust for power of those who have already benefited.

These two forces, along with all the people of Gadinar, swept them toward destruction along with their madness.

And these were the very words Casca used to persuade Philus.

"Therefore, bombing civilian areas is actually meaningless."

For them, human lives have always been a bargaining chip used to exchange for power.

Killing these civilians will have no effect on the world.

"So, that's why Philus gave up on surface bombardment and accepted the enemy's surrender?"

“You’re really something, Commander Casgar. Perhaps your talents are also suited to being a scholar and an orator.”

"If you are interested after the Great Expedition, you can come to Prospero, and I will personally introduce you."

Amar praised with a smile.

"When that time comes, you must come and taste the wines produced on my private estate. I am confident that they can rival the fine wines of your emperor's son."

Alas, Prospero.

Next time for sure.

"Although Phyllis has indeed stopped, the crisis is far from over."

The ceasefire announcement from the High Lord of Gadinar is being broadcast on all planets in the galaxy, and the Gadinar people all over the galaxy have chosen to cease fire with a sigh of relief upon receiving the news.

After all, not many people are willing to confront a fully mechanized legion like Iron Hand head-on.

Both inside and outside the galaxy, numerous actions symbolizing submission are taking place simultaneously.

Peace will soon come to Gardiner.

Almost everyone is hoping for this.

But Casgar doesn't think so.

"Just as they wouldn't really negotiate with you before, they probably won't really come to surrender this time either."

As Kasgar spoke, he gently patted Amal's massive shoulder armor.

"Go back and put on your power armor, get ready for battle, brother."

The industrial-style metal corridor came to an end at this moment.

[Between Forging] Outside.

Countless Steel Hand Space Marines waited outside the doors of the massive conference hall at the bow of the Steel Fist.

As the face of the Iron Hand, their main purpose in being positioned at the front was to show these overconfident Gadinars just how terrifying the existence they were fighting was.

There were three people who came to represent Gardiner in the negotiations.

Leading the way was a frail old man, hunched over and aged, his face marked with spots and wrinkles, suggesting he had lived far longer than he should have.

As the High Lord of Gadinar, he represents the entire Gadinar Empire.

Following behind him was a middle-aged man who had undergone extensive biological modifications. He was also rather thin, and there were tubes with biomass flowing through them inserted into the back of his head and various parts of his body.

There was also a young attendant whose appearance was unremarkable.

A strange combination.

The three of them passed through the outer armed guard composed of thousands of Iron Hands, feeling the cold, murderous aura emanating from the Iron Hands, as if they were machines.

The people of Gadinar also value military parades.

They would line up their land-based machinery, tanks, and elite soldiers in the parade, to be reviewed by the High Lord, who was the ruler of Gadinar.

However, such a well-organized and massive army of superheroes was something they had never even dreamed of.

Moreover, hundreds of cobalt blue giants stood behind the ranks, who appeared to be the very opponents they had encountered in their first battle.

Immediately following them was a group of giants clad in exquisite silk robes and purple-gold armor.

The purple-gold and blue giants seemed more human than mechanical compared to the previous iron-gray steel giants.

But it is still a war machine.

This was the first impression the Astartes left on the Gadinars.

Efficient, powerful, and ruthless.

As they ventured deeper into the gate, a giant of iron gray stood before them, facing a massive, black iron-carved gate.

"Gabriel Santo, the first company commander of the Iron Hands."

He took off his helmet and introduced himself.

This was also the first time they had seen the giant's face—his appearance was as uneven as an asteroid, and his right hand, which was wrapped around his helmet, seemed to have been completely replaced by a bionic machine.

With a piercing gaze sweeping over the three of them, Santo continued, "Next, I will act as your guard and lead you to the Primarch's Forging Chamber."

As he spoke, he reached out and stopped the young servant.

Santo remembered Casca's earlier advice.

The company commander seemed to have heard from Aqua that the commander, the son of the emperor, possessed powerful prophetic abilities.

They could even tell him the details of what was going to happen next, down to the smallest detail.

But Santo remained somewhat skeptical.

"You shall remain outside; your entourage is forbidden from entering."

Santo stopped the servants.

Upon seeing this, the two diplomats from Gardiner were taken aback, seemingly not expecting this move either.

Medusa's Gorgon, Phyllis Marus, sits high on the Iron Throne.

She waited there to hear the surrender proposal from the Gadinars.

At this moment, two guards wearing state-of-the-art Terminator armor stood beside him, protecting him.

Originally, she did not intend to give the Gadinars another chance.

You shouldn't show them kindness.

Kindness is often seen as weakness.

But in order to demonstrate her governing and diplomatic abilities to Terra's war council, and also on the advice of Kasgar, Phyllis Marus showed them a rare display of kindness.

However, Casca also warned that these people wouldn't be so well-behaved.

"If you insist, you and Amar can stay."

Philus responded casually to Casca's warning.

assassin?

So what if he's an assassin?

She is very confident in herself.

As one of the emperor's offspring, she never believed that she was inferior to others in any way.

If the Gadinar people are truly so confident that they can harm the Primarch through assassination, then they are simply being foolish.

Let this entire planet perish along with their folly.

Ding, ding.

The doors to the forging chamber opened, and two emissaries from Gadinar slowly stepped into the massive steel palace made of countless metals.

Waiting for them in the hall, besides Primarch Filus and his two Terminator guards, was the Crimson Wizard, Amal, from the Thousand Sons' Strategist, who had been negotiating with the Gadinar.

And a silent, purple-gold giant.

The people of Gadinar did not know his origins or why he was there.

But it must be said that his fiery red helmet against his purple-gold armor was indeed very eye-catching.

"High Lord Stradivarius," the old man introduced himself, bowing slightly.

“Warlock, I know your psychic powers.” Amal was particularly wary of the other middle-aged man. “I’ll be watching you, my friend. Don’t even think about using your sorcery here.”

Upon boarding the Iron Fist, they all underwent extremely rigorous security checks to ensure they would not harm their Primarchs on the ship.

But regardless of whether they are armed or not, psionicists have a far more diverse range of attack methods than one might imagine.

Amar, as a member of the Thousand Sons Think Tank, will keep a close eye on them.

The middle-aged man from Gardiner did not answer this question.

"enough."

Phyllis impatiently stopped Amal's threat.