Chapter 460: The Nightbringer: "Hehe, Warp Daemon, Little Cake, Here I Come!"
"Mortarion ultimately chose Karna."
With the arrival of the Dark Angels and the defense forces shifting to the offensive, actively seeking engagement with the invaders, even when facing a xenos threat like the Tyranids they had never seen before, the Lion quickly formulated the most appropriate countermeasures based on existing data. He found a balance between resisting Tyranid harassment of Ultramar and annihilating the Death Guard.
Facing the traitor worlds, the Dark Angels acted efficiently and orderly. They captured key military strongholds and executed all leadership. It was a conquest, almost like the compliance actions of the Great Crusade.
Facing Daemon Worlds, they prepared thoroughly for independent extermination operations—a specialty of the First Legion. Their goal was to completely kill the planet. Under the wrath of the Dark Angels, even Nurgle daemons, known for their survivability, left behind enough "survivors."
Fortunately, the Lion's Caliban still existed. Those who recognized the truth in the endless jungle of the Warp would execute their traitorous kin again, truly this time, in another world. Then they would watch over these daemons, letting them huddle together like ants, sobbing and asking themselves why their great Grandfather ultimately chose to abandon them.
The warbands ravaging the east of Greater Ultramar and the polluted Daemon Worlds were suddenly cleared out. Reality no longer gave Chaos the opportunity to accumulate strength further. They could only passively choose to concentrate their forces for a last stand.
The strategic goal of the Dawnbreakers had been achieved.
The Lion sat cross-legged in the room reserved for him on the Gloriana-class battleship Invincible Reason, absorbing every bit of information from the battlefield. Thinking of the results he had achieved in less than a year, a subtle pride rose in his heart.
Even after ten thousand years, he still held enough weight in the hearts of these traitorous brothers, so much so that they instinctively chose to avoid fighting him.
Just like ten thousand years ago.
Everyone subconsciously chose to avoid him. Whether Loyalist or Traitor, they feared his power, dared not provoke his bottom line, and could only use lies and deception to confuse him...
After ten thousand years, he still—
No, you can't think like that anymore.
Realizing arrogance was rising from the bottom of his heart again, the Lion quickly shook his head.
Because he was confused. By other people's lies, and his own arrogance, he made mistakes that were hard to make up for.
The Lion sighed.
He couldn't make such mistakes again.
His chest expanded, exhaling turbid air.
The Lion emerged from his brief meditation.
The helmet placed on the bedside table emitted a faint hum. After sitting up on the floor, he first grabbed the Lion Sword, then picked up the robe on the bed to cover the armor he never took off during wartime.
This was a gift from the Dawnbreakers, sent by Azrael when he returned to the Invincible Reason. The dark green fabric of the outer robe was smooth and silky, with the black winged sword of the First Legion embroidered on the chest. Inside were pieces of meticulously carved auramite, forged by Arthur, blessed with runes by Ramesses, and presented by Romulus personally on behalf of the Angel as a mark of honor.
His gaze swept across the floor, inadvertently landing on the cryptic scripts capable of making any son of the Lion jump in anger. The Lion secretly rejoiced that Ramesses hadn't carved these things on his armor while leaving easter eggs all over the ship, then picked up his helmet.
The orders he issued were being executed step by step. There was no imminent crisis at the moment. The Lion looked one last time at the stars hanging in the dark sky in the holographic projection, wondering if someone calling him at this time meant there was a problem with his plan or judgment.
He left his room and stepped onto the shortest path through the ship.
The Invincible Reason differed slightly from other Gloriana-class ships. It had a massive thoroughfare about 28 kilometers long inside, connecting almost every sector of the ship. In those armories were preserved relics considered extremely dangerous since the Age of Strife. Now marked by Romulus, they were all open, ready for use by the Round Table Council if needed.
I don't know whether to rejoice or be sad that such a warship is still the Imperium's most advanced combat force ten thousand years later.
Walking among the busy crowds, the Lion thought subtly.
He subconsciously assessed the defensive capabilities of the entire route, while also memorizing all layouts and terrain, as well as the information hidden behind these deployments. Most guards stationed at intersections and corners saluted as he strode past, and one or two bowed their heads and whispered, seemingly reciting prayers.
Currently, the Dark Angels' combat structure still followed the Lion's era, making it extremely smooth for him to command.
However, it seemed that without the Emperor, or because the environment had truly changed, the Imperial Truth was indeed not followed. Things the Emperor once banned, such as AI and Chaos sorcery, were widely popularized within the Legion, no longer taboo for a Legion personally controlled by a Primarch.
Excluding the wonderful gadgets the Emperor prepared for him, the Lion could see many things in the Hexagrammaton that would make his vision go dark—wraithbone weapons, Terran mechanical sentinels, Daemon Engines... things that, if pulled out during the Great Crusade, would directly send him to sleep with the Second and the Eleventh.
Fortunately, the Lion was a pure pragmatist. With brothers who were all truth-seekers, handled affairs unambiguously, and recognized their own essence, the Lion wasn't conservative enough to completely discard things that were gradually transforming into advantages for humanity.
And the Dawnbreakers were very measured in this application, never thinking of popularizing such absurd things, but firmly grasping them in their own hands, greatly eliminating potential risks.
Not trusting the morals of Imperials is correct.
The current Legion generally obeyed the structure of a Round Table Council. Apart from the six Wings, six others were responsible for managing various Inner Circles—not interfering with Inner Circle affairs, but focusing on controlling the mental state of each Dark Angel and organizing regular talks.
This made the Lion feel bewildered while slightly sensing a strangeness. These subtle changes ultimately constituted this Legion that felt both strange and familiar to him now.
But in any case, walking on the bridge of an Imperial starship again and being treated with respect by the crew had a strange intimacy.
They knew his true past, knew he had made mistakes, but at the same time knew he was a Dark Angels Primarch loyal to the Emperor.
This was enough for them.
Victories were enough to prove that the Lion still had the ability to lead them to turn the tide. Combining history also made everyone deeply realize that Primarchs were not as flawless as imagined.
This actually made them more accepting of the mistakes Primarchs made.
"..."
The Lion still couldn't figure out where the Dawnbreakers got so much precise information. Although he could believe that with the personalities of these brothers, they definitely wouldn't choose to be bystanders, such precision—even the psychological activities of each Primarch were exposed.
His pride born from Perturabo's flattery; Guilliman's complaints to his foster mother after seeing the Dark Angels; then the absurd choices of the two after feeling the Imperium was doomed.
Dorn's expectations for the two of them—who would absolutely not rebel in Dorn's eyes—after withstanding the Traitors' siege time and again, expecting them to support Terra in time... These psychological activities added a bit of black humor to this farce.
Reviewing the entire Heresy, no Primarch could hold it together.
The Lion dared not imagine how he should face Dorn if they met again.
He quickly said goodbye to those gazes that had begun to make him feel ashamed.
I dare not face him now!
Currently, the Invincible Reason and the rest of the escort fleet were resting at a fortress world on the edge of the Sotha Sector, replacing ships needing repair and scavenging clues left in the battlefield. But the Lion was the Lion; he wasn't satisfied with waiting idly.
After clearing various Daemon Worlds and Chaos warbands, they needed to concentrate part of the fleet to support Calth. To achieve this goal, they also needed to cross the Warp tides that had become unusually turbulent.
Nurgle's Domain and Tzeentch's Domain within the realm of the gods were impacting each other. The two gods were fighting for their own interests. The Warp waves stirred up caused a large number of shipping lanes to be abandoned.
Fortunately, humanity, which now also embraced part of the Warp, had its own means. At least when a large number of planets could only choose passive defense, the Lion could still protect a fleet large enough to conduct safe Warp navigation.
The Lion had been slow once, so he actively chose to communicate with his brothers and hoped he could catch up this time.
Invincible Reason Bridge. The Lion walked through the ancient wooden door adorned with prismatic frosted glass. He breathed the air; besides the smell of disinfectant, he also smelled a hint of ceramite mixed with ozone discharged from power armor cooling systems.
Azrael and Redloss were chatting casually.
Usually, Azrael asked, and Redloss answered.
Azrael's questions were very skillful, usually starting from a professional perspective, asking with the attitude of a learner. Out of proof of his own professional ability, although this red rose blooming enthusiastically was prickly, he wouldn't deny his enthusiasm.
In this process, Azrael was learning and understanding the Dark Angel he was talking to.
As a member who had experienced a more obsessed Chapter era, he knew it was hard to change a person's preconceived notions, but this didn't prevent a leader from understanding his subordinates.
Truly a qualified Chapter Master.
The Lion couldn't help but admire.
Except for slightly inferior martial prowess, Azrael could already compare with Corswain and others. Even in the Great Crusade, such a figure wouldn't be nameless.
"Azrael."
Trying hard not to look at the apprentices beside the Inquisitor, he came to the edge of the thrones on the bridge.
There were two thrones, left and right, in a crossed posture. In the center was erected a statue of the Emperor, glittering with gold. The reverence of many people for it like faith made him feel quite awkward.
Then there were other Dark Angels. Those Dark Angels who were attacked on Caliban not long ago subconsciously showed a vigilant posture, even if they didn't intend to do so in their hearts.
The Lion stopped.
The first thought that flashed through his mind was that he disdained talking to these sons timid as beasts.
But such a thought was bad.
The Lion nodded to those Dark Angels, actively showing his harmlessness, then asked Azrael.
"Is the fleet resupply complete?"
"My Lord, I'm afraid we can't provide support in a short time."
Azrael quickly pulled up an attack record.
The Lion looked closely.
This was an attack record on a Shrine World near Sotha.
This planet was attacked by an unknown life form.
The port disintegrated the moment it came into contact with it. Near-earth defenses were breached in seconds.
However, the local bishop was a devout believer. At the beginning of the attack, he quickly organized the surviving residents into the shrine, and then guided the Emperor's power to repel this unknown enemy when it broke into the shrine.
"..."
The Lion finished reading the report, looked back at the Emperor's statue first, and suddenly felt that this thing didn't seem so awkward.
He asked: "The Nightbringer?"
"Yes. According to local psyker investigations, all biological and electronic equipment in the attacked port showed a non-responsive state like death. Being able to implant non-existent death into anything is indeed likely the handiwork of a C'tan."
Azrael nodded.
It was good to have serious old timers like Eldar and Necrons joining.
Although transmigrators dabbled in various secrets, when it came to professional issues, with the level where the high-dimensional Black Library group couldn't even figure out math, naturally there was no reference means.
But Necrons and Eldar were different.
Not to mention the Eldar's Black Library, although the Necrons lost much technology, their history was not broken, especially since Trazyn was on their side.
They had a lot of data on these transcendent creatures, allowing humanity to understand the enemy they were about to face more clearly.
And the Nightbringer, the literal Grim Reaper, had the ability to stop all matter from moving.
The Lion nodded thoughtfully.
He remembered that Shrine World; the fleet hadn't passed there long ago.
Quickly analyzing the opponent's information acquisition ability and FTL ability through the time difference in his mind, the Lion pondered slightly, then spoke.
"Its target is me?"
"Correct."
Azrael replied: "The C'tan seems to master some unknown individual FTL means. It could come at any time."
"Put the Fortress World on high alert, operate void shields to the maximum, and concentrate the rest of the fleet on me."
The Lion ordered quickly.
The defense of a Fortress World was trustworthy, and regarding the battleship cluster, based on the destructive power shown by the opponent, the Lion still felt it was safer for the fleet to stick close to him.
He turned his head to look at the Emperor's statue again, and said: "Remember to let the Fortress World organize devout believer groups, using churches dedicated to the Emperor as core defense facilities."
"Understood."
Azrael left to execute the order.
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