Elsewhere, in the eastern Mediterranean—Jerusalem.
Under the repeated ravaging of bolt guns and chainswords, faith ultimately lost to the instinct for survival.
With the arrival of a certain important figure from the Seventeenth Legion, sirens wailed through the ancient city of Jerusalem, their cries piercing and desperate. The thunder of combat boots rose and fell in waves. Within the walls, figures surged and moved.
Some sprinted. Some ran at full tilt. Others formed ranks in emergency assembly after receiving special orders.
At every major thoroughfare in the city, soldiers of the Imperial Auxilia and Servitor Army stood in neat formation, rifles slung across their shoulders. Beside them were rows upon rows of war machines.
All officers on duty hurriedly reported to their respective superiors. Across the entire defense zone, officers and soldiers ran everywhere.
At this moment, in Jerusalem's Old City—Temple Mount.
The sun was setting. Crimson light stretched from the horizon, bathing the ancient city in red, like a rose drunk on blood.
Metal reflected beneath the sunlight, and the legion's emblem stood vivid and lifelike—an open parchment book wreathed in golden flames.
Gray and yellow interwove in dark tones, accented with touches of gold. The paint scheme was uniform. Giants in gleaming armor stood assembled in ranks.
Tens of thousands stood in perfect order, like cloned replicas. There was no clamor—only the sound of the wind brushing past their ears.
"What is your duty?!"
From atop the steps where the giants stood, a voice roared in interrogation.
Under the inspection of high-ranking Astartes officers, the warriors answered in unison.
"To serve the Empress' will!"
"What is the Empress' will?"
"That we fight and die!"
"What is death?"
"It is our duty!"
...
Their voices thundered like rolling thunder. Each shout struck the ears of onlookers like a heavy hammer, deafening and overwhelming.
"Do you see it? The threads of fate lie beneath your feet."
"All is predestined. Only truth is eternal."
"What blooms after the fading of dawn is eternal radiance—the crown that spans the sea of stars—"
As he spoke, Lorgar, Legion Commander of the Astartes Seventeenth Legion God-Empress Preachers, slammed the Light of Illumination onto the ground. It was a finely crafted power scepter, its head inlaid with a triangular Honkai Cube.
He spread one hand and held a Holy Testament as thick as a door panel. Narrowing his eyes, he swept his gaze across the mortals standing in the courtyard. His look was cold enough to make one shiver.
They swallowed involuntarily, sweat sliding from their foreheads to the tips of their noses. Not one dared lift a hand to wipe it away.
Yes. These mortals were the religious leaders of this place.
And Lorgar's purpose needed no explanation.
Submit to Our Empress and prosper. Resist—and perish.
As Lorgar pressed forward, numerous high-ranking Astartes officers at his side turned their gazes upon the crowd.
No words were spoken.
A few officers smiled.
It would have been better if they had not. When they smiled, it was even more terrifying.
Perhaps it had something to do with the folds of their facial muscles. Some people were born with smiles that looked sinister and dreadful. Others smiled like a spring breeze. These officers clearly belonged to the former.
In an instant, more than a dozen priests, pastors, and imams among the invited witnesses stepped aside, fell to their knees, and pressed their foreheads to the ground.
"May the God-Empress reign above!" they cried in unison.
"And you?"
Lorgar's gaze shifted to the remaining hardliners as he continued to ask in a tone almost gentle.
"Lord Lorgar!"
An elderly man with white hair and beard stepped forward from the crowd. Gritting his teeth, he stared at Lorgar.
"We hope that the people may determine their own path and preserve their faith..."
"Oh. That is truly regrettable."
Lorgar shook his head with apparent regret.
"Lord! Your master is not our Creator. We have only this one—"
Before he could finish, a gunshot rang out.
Bang!
A bolt round obliterated his entire upper body, sending blood and fragments flying far into the distance. Lorgar's expression did not change as he watched the pair of legs twitch before collapsing.
"Double-mindedness. Anyone who questions Her Majesty must die. Her Majesty is the very foundation upon which the Empire stands unshaken. If you cannot learn this, I do not mind teaching you again—sending you back to the furnace to be remade before your own god."
Not far behind Lorgar, a senior captain of the God-Empress Preachers slid his finely crafted bolt pistol back into the magnetic holster at his waist. He shook his head and sneered.
"Loyalty that is not absolute—is absolute disloyalty."
With no intention of further debate with these stubborn elements, Lorgar turned away.
At once, the Astartes officers upon the steps issued their command to the surrounding soldiers.
"Execute them all!"
"You will go to hell! The Lord will not forgive you!"
"No! You can't—"
Squelch!
Bang! Bang! Rat-tat-tat!
Gunfire erupted in all directions. The remaining hardliners in the courtyard were instantly torn apart in pools of blood. Soon, silence fell again. Pulverized flesh stained the ground crimson, and the air filled with a nauseating metallic stench.
"Reform this city. Greater temples. Greater statues. We, the Preachers, shall bring the glory of Our Empress to reign over this land..."
Lorgar was in the midst of outlining his grand vision when an officer hurried to his side in small, quick steps.
"Report: News from Giza, Egypt..."
"Heliopolis Life Sciences? World Serpent? The emblem of a moth flying into flame?"
Others might not understand how these pieces fit together. But as Legion Commander, how could Lorgar not know the inside story?
"A moth to the flame..."
His eyes lit up instantly.
"MOTH. Flame-Chasers."
"Order: Return to Giza, Egypt."
...
Giza, Egypt—Commercial District Luxury Apartments.
As a senior government official representing Giza Province in surrender negotiations, the Reneibo family had received preferential treatment from the Imperial Army. Unlike most civilians, they were not subject to strict regulation.
The storms raging outside did not concern them.
So what if there was a new overlord above their heads?
As if there hadn't been one before.
It was merely a change of masters. The new rulers were not monsters. There was nothing unacceptable about it.
And even if they were monsters—for professional bureaucrats and politicians like them—so long as the balance of power and interests was clear enough, everything was negotiable.
Just like any ordinary day, Old Reneibo finished his work—transitioning seamlessly from serving the Giza government to serving the Empire—and prepared to relax.
Hotpot simmered. Music played.
And then—
Ahem.
Then he suffered calamity without reason.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Boom!
Crash—shatter!
From distant to near, the roar of gunfire and artillery surged closer. Then came a dull, thunderous impact. In an instant, the entire apartment was reduced to chaos—concrete rubble, splintered wood, shattered glass, fragments of furniture strewn everywhere.
"Astartes, my lord?"
Clutching his wife and child, staring at the gray metal-painted armored giant that had smashed straight through the apartment ceiling, Old Reneibo stumbled back into a corner, muttering in shock.
"Hm?!"
Knocked off course by Pardofelis' "cat claw" strike, the Seventeenth Legion God-Empress Preacher warrior looked down in slight confusion and touched his breastplate.
Not for any other reason—the round, flesh-toned cat paw attack had looked large in scale and condensed with Honkai energy. But the damage...
Was absurdly low.
All thunder, no rain. Could that xenos be holding back?
Aside from some scraped paint, it had not even come close to penetrating the orichalcum composite plating of his power armor. The force behind it seemed minimal as well.
A single-attribute specialist—high agility, poor frontal assault capability?
"Astartes, my lord... have we committed some offense?" Old Reneibo asked tremulously.
An official, then.
Most civilians had already been gathered. Only officials working for them retained the privilege of staying home. Besides, the title "Astartes" had not yet become widespread.
The warrior glanced at the mortal family cowering in the corner. Then his jump pack ignited. With a casual wave of his hand, he left only a single word behind.
"Move."
Boom!
The remaining wall could no longer withstand the impact of a several-ton armored giant. It shattered completely as a plume of plasma exhaust streaked skyward.
"The xenos is an agility-specialized enemy. Offensive capability appears limited!" the warrior reported over the internal channel, raising his chainsword.
Vrrrmm!
Dodging sweeping volleys of bolt rounds, Pardofelis watched as the dark-gray giant shot back out and blocked her retreat. She drew her circular blade. Behind her, the sharp-tipped cat tail swayed lightly.
No choice now.
Enemies surrounded her on all sides. Large-caliber explosive shells poured down like rain, detonating nonstop.
The teeth of the chainsword collided with the violet ring blade.
Clang—!
This was not a contest of Honkai energy release. This was a pure contest of strength.
Two half-ring blades combined into a double-layered edge. For the first time, the massive sword trembled—and that vibration traveled up her arms, forcing Pardofelis to grip it with both hands.
When an Astartes fought Pardofelis, it was like a heavily armored knight facing an unarmored rogue.
The follow-up came immediately after the chainsword strike.
Seizing the opening, another God-Empress Preacher descended with a mace-shaped power hammer. His jump pack granted him perfect support speed.
The surrounding suppression fire and smoke had bought him precious timing. As drilled countless times in coordinated training, he swung.
The hammerhead crackled with crimson arcs.
Crackle—snap!
Boom—!
A deafening explosion burst outward. Dust in midair rippled apart. The warrior was knocked back half a meter yet maintained his stance midair.
Pardofelis, however, was blasted off the wall. Her boots gouged through the asphalt as she slid backward for over a dozen meters.
"As expected. Agility-specialized."
Feeling the vibration transmitted through his power armor's actuators, he spoke.
Her flexibility and speed were extraordinary. Without jump packs and coordinated encirclement, she would have left them unable to even see her tail lights.
Against her, fewer than a hundred troops could not fully seal every escape route. With her speed and sharp instincts, any gap would instantly become a breakthrough point.
Yet in raw muscular strength, she was surprisingly weak—completely disproportionate to her agility. A single-attribute specialization, beyond doubt.
The God-Empress Preachers discussed over the internal channel.
Astartes were undoubtedly enhanced in all aspects. But specialization also existed within the Imperial Army—such as infiltration and reconnaissance units among the Auxilia.
"After closer observation, she isn't truly xenos. Likely some form of mutation."
"Agreed. The only visible mutations are cat ears and a tail. She's not like the beastlike xenos with full fur and claws. Still fundamentally human."
"Uh... I've heard nobles are quite fond of this 'cat-eared girl' type."
"Spare me. Earn a hereditary title first, then talk."
More God-Empress Preachers stationed across the city arrived. Through the internal channel, they were quickly briefed and seamlessly joined the assault.
After exchanging more than a dozen direct clashes with ring blade against chainsword, Pardofelis relied on the rooftop-hopping skills she had honed in Dusk Street, weaving agilely around the giants' waists.
Their high center of gravity now worked to her advantage.
By this point, several streets' worth of landmark buildings had been reduced to war-torn ruin.
"Big guys! Can't hit me, can you?"
Though her arms trembled from exertion after those exchanges and she was already panting, Pardofelis remained irrepressibly upbeat.
Catching a brief opening, she crouched against a wall and hurled her violet ring blade.
"Tin cans—go! Squash them flat!"
The two ring blades merged midair into a full circle. The next instant, a massive...
Brown chubby cat burst out from within.
It rapidly expanded in size, then spun and dropped, enveloping dozens of Astartes beneath its enormous backside.
"Meooow—!"
In an instant—deeply humiliatingly—they were sent flying again, smashing fresh holes through surrounding skyscrapers.
The damage might have been low.
The humiliation was not.
"Yay!"
Pardofelis flashed a 'V' sign with her fingers, her cat ears twitching adorably.
"What are you doing?!"
This scene happened to be witnessed by an arriving Astartes squad leader. Watching Pardofelis flipping through chainswords, power hammers, and bolt fire, he narrowed his eyes.
"Cat ears... fur..."
Within less than ten blinks, he found the blind spot.
"Cats fear fire. Fur-bearing animals generally possess an instinctive aversion to flame. Since she exhibits feline traits, we test it. All units—switch to inferno bolt rounds! Incendiary weapons authorized within city limits! If higher command investigates, I will take responsibility."
Soldiers were bound by orders from superiors. Officers were not exempt.
Even the lowest-ranking Astartes squad leader—commanding fewer than a hundred—was already within the officer class.
"Yes, sir!"
Because the officer had not lowered his voice, Pardofelis heard everything clearly.
Her smile stiffened.
"Uh... actually, we don't have to fight to the death. I'm a good person. A righteous thief."
Inferno this, incendiary that—
The cat feared fire most of all.
"Fire!"
"Waaah—!"