Chapter 97: The Price of Glory
Psychic energies coursed through the ancient armor, awakening its blessed systems. The armor sang with renewed vitality.
Sacred mechanisms stirred from dormancy and initiated self-repair protocols. Molecular reconstructors restored damaged ceramite at the atomic level, making it glow with inner radiance.
Sanguinius felt his body return to pristine condition. He marveled at the Raven's extraordinary capabilities. With such power, the assault force possessed something close to battlefield immortality.
"My gratitude, Master Raven," the Angel said with genuine reverence.
"Just a minor miracle, little angel. Exercise greater caution in future engagements."
The Raven replied with characteristic irreverence.
"The lesson is learned," Sanguinius nodded. He spread his wings and dove back into the greenskin horde with renewed fury.
The Raven's form dissolved into swirling currents of air before materializing beside Guilliman. The Thirteenth Primarch found himself locked in desperate combat against overwhelming numbers.
Power flowed from the diminutive creature. It mended rent armor and restored Guilliman's flagging strength.
"Hold fast, we're not scheduling any intensive care visits today."
Guilliman's expression turned momentarily incredulous at the anachronistic reference. Then he channeled his renewed vigor into even more devastating attacks against the surrounding orks.
After completing this circuit of battlefield assistance, the Raven returned to the Emperor's side.
The Master of Mankind fought with infinite power. His blazing blade carved through enemy ranks like a scythe through wheat. Casual sweeps of His weapon felled dozens of greenskin warriors. Focused psychic blasts reduced hundreds more to molecular dust.
Under His supreme leadership, the assault force penetrated deeper into the War Moon's corrupted heart. They finally breached its central chamber—a spherical cavity of immense proportions filled with alien machinery.
A massive energy sphere hung at the chamber's core, brilliant as a captive star. Its surface writhed with boiling ionic flames while countless silver arcs of power extended outward like cosmic tentacles.
This was the War Moon's beating heart—the physical manifestation of concentrated WAAAGH energy. Its destruction would trigger the entire construct's collapse.
A colossal Warboss awaited them with his elite guard. The creature had anticipated the Emperor's true objective.
The Warboss's skull resembled hewn granite. Massive tusks protruded through a steel-plated helm. Dark red eyes blazed with malevolent cunning while multiple mechanical appendages sprouted from his augmented torso, each a weapon of terrible lethality.
His integrated arsenal contained plasma beams, pulse waves, gravitational distortions, cryo-fields, electrical discharges, and promethium flames.
"This one is Mine," the Emperor declared. He bypassed His Custodians to engage the massive Warboss directly.
The remaining warriors threw themselves against the elite guard in desperate melee. The chamber echoed with the roar of heavy weapons and the shriek of power claws rending ceramite.
Impenetrable WAAAGH fields formed shimmering barriers around the Warboss, deflecting attacks that would have vaporized lesser foes.
The duel between the Emperor and the alien champion shook the War Moon's foundations.
His golden laurel crown burned to ash. His cloak was scorched black by terrible energies. Multiple times, lethal strikes came within millimeters of piercing His immortal form.
Yet in the end, the Master of Mankind claimed victory.
His blade swept in a perfect arc, severing the Warboss's head from its massive shoulders.
Then He gathered psychic might beyond mortal comprehension—power sufficient to crack worlds and extinguish stars.
Blazing radiance erupted from within the Emperor's form as though a newborn sun sought birth within His immortal frame.
Even His gene-sons were forced to shield their transhuman vision. Awe and terror warred across their noble features.
Had they not witnessed this display personally, none would have believed the Emperor's true power could reach such devastating heights.
This was a force capable of annihilating existence across multiple dimensional layers simultaneously.
The Emperor employed this cosmic might to utterly obliterate the fallen Warboss. Then He tore open a rift into the Immaterium itself.
He hurled the War Moon's energy core into the Warp's chaotic embrace before the portal sealed behind it.
"Withdraw," the Emperor commanded with absolute authority.
The Emperor's Grand Design, positioned at optimal range, locked onto their coordinates and executed immediate extraction. Brilliant teleportation flares consumed the strike force as the War Moon began its death throes.
The artificial construct collapsed in upon itself while Warp energies devoured everything within reach. Gravitational forces beyond comprehension pulled greenskin vessels toward destruction or sent them tumbling helplessly through space like leaves before a hurricane.
Standing upon the bridge of His flagship, the Emperor watched alongside the Raven as the War Moon succumbed to annihilation amidst the screams of dying machinery.
"Victory is achieved," Sanguinius observed from behind them.
"This represents merely the beginning," the Emperor replied grimly. "The galaxy has likely spawned a greenskin empire beyond our current understanding. What we faced may prove only the smallest fraction of their true strength."
The War Moon's destruction unleashed energy storms that swept across the battlefield like tidal waves of raw power.
The massive greenskin fleet, moments before holding tactical advantage, found itself scattered like autumn leaves before hurricane winds.
Bloated ork vessels transformed into cooling debris fields. Their crews became frozen corpses in the void's embrace.
The Warboss's death shattered greenskin morale completely.
Despite maintaining numerical superiority, the survivors fled in chaotic retreat.
The First Expeditionary Fleet seized the initiative and reorganized to pursue the scattered enemy forces. Imperial vessels still capable of combat engaged maximum thrust, hunting down fleeing orks and transforming their ships into burning pyres.
The pursuit continued until the enemy reached the system's edge and vanished into Warp translation, leaving behind only the echoes of defeat.
Salvage operations commenced immediately.
Mechanicus ark ships positioned themselves at optimal coordinates while recovery vessels ferried wreckage and valuable components back to processing centers.
Swarms of servo-skulls and maintenance drones worked with efficiency. They dismantled the War Moon's remains under Tech-adept supervision.
The Emperor had ordered a complete analysis of greenskin WAAAGH field technology—knowledge that might prove crucial in future encounters.
Emergency repair craft attached themselves to damaged Imperial vessels like metallic parasites. They conducted field repairs sufficient to maintain combat readiness or facilitate return to proper shipyard facilities.
Upon the bridge of the Emperor's Grand Design, the Emperor remained with the Raven and five Primarchs until final victory confirmation arrived.
"Sanguinius, Alpharius, Dorn, Guilliman, Konrad," the Emperor intoned.
The gene-sons snapped to attention, recognizing the tone that preceded significant assignments.
"This greenskin force represents no isolated threat. It likely serves as vanguard for a much larger WAAAGH crusade. Someone must investigate their empire's true scale while conducting harassment operations to prevent interference with our Great Crusade."
"Only through such measures can the Imperium reclaim sufficient colonies and accumulate resources necessary for total war against this greenskin menace."
"Which among you will accept this burden?"
Alpharius stepped forward without hesitation. "Father, I volunteer. Intelligence gathering and sabotage operations fall within my specialization."
The Emperor studied each of His sons before nodding approvingly. "The mission is yours. Depart immediately, track those fleeing vessels, and determine our enemy's true capabilities."
"I shall not disappoint Your expectations, Father."
Alpharius moved with characteristic efficiency. He assembled a reconnaissance fleet within hours.
His ships departed to shadow the retreating orks while the Emperor delegated remaining cleanup operations to naval commanders.
Battle reports from other expeditionary fleets demanded His attention.
"Fourth Fleet, under the command of the First Legion's Primarch, has successfully defeated the Space Yeti infestation within the Baler System. Enemy homeworld located. Extermination protocols prepared for complete species eradication."
The Emperor lingered over Lion El'Jonson's report. His eldest son's first major engagement had targeted a xenos breed that had troubled even the Dark Age of Technology.
Yet Lion had not merely defeated them; he prepared for the total annihilation of their kind.
"Space Yeti?" The Raven's eyes widened with sudden inspiration. "♪ You love me, I love you, Michelle Ice City sweet and true… ♪"
The Emperor had grown accustomed to such anachronistic outbursts and continued reviewing fleet reports. Leman Russ, Angron, and Horus had successfully integrated with their respective commands and were reclaiming lost human colonies across multiple sectors.
Reports from Terra also demanded attention. After extensive deliberation, Malcador and the High Lords had revised Imperial Law once again.
The Imperium no longer recognises slavery's legality. Worlds practicing such barbarism must abolish it within specified timeframes.
Simultaneously, they established the Imperial Wealth Act to bring new economic frameworks that prevent the concentration of absolute power in individual hands.
(T/N: In the Grim Darkness of 30K Millennium, There exists IRS, "Imperial Revenue Sanatorium")
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