The shock of a million Astartes dissipated, yet the enemy remained powerful; the Rangdan Overlord had not yet entered the fray.
The direction of the war was not optimistic. The Rangdan still had reserves, and the Imperium of Man had not exerted its full strength either.
The current intensity of the war was merely a preliminary friction between two super-empires; both sides were gathering strength while probing, preparing for a future thunderous strike.
After reviewing the troop reports, the War Council fell silent. There was no warm atmosphere of brothers gathering to resist a powerful enemy; the disdain in their eyes had completely vanished.
The Primarchs sat upright in their chairs, casting their gazes toward Solas, waiting for the Warmaster to make the strategic deployment.
"You are all aware of how the war is developing," Solas nodded, casually dismissing the projection of the Rangdan Overlord, and began to fulfill his duties as Warmaster: "I will not belabor other points; I will now explain the core of the war."
He looked toward the Legion Commander of the Fifth Legion, casting a look of approval: "You hunted across the stars and obtained valuable intelligence."
The Legion Commander, receiving praise from the Primarch, puffed out his chest and nodded slightly to show his pride.
"According to the existing intelligence, the xenos empire is massive in scale, comparable to the Imperium of Man, with even greater war potential."
Solas sat steadily at the head of the round table, his hands moving quickly over the virtual keys, constructing the strategic vision in his mind: "Then the war objective becomes clear."
"We cannot fight a long war of attrition. The fanatical slave society of the Rangdan is highly efficient at digging deep into their war potential. It will drag the Imperium of Man into a quagmire of war and then drag us to our deaths."
Silence remained at the round table. The Primarch brothers nodded one after another, agreeing with this view of the war.
"Then we only have one path to take," Solas said in a low voice, explaining his viewpoint as the icons of the various Legions appeared on the projection: "Victory or defeat rests entirely on the Legions."
"The Imperial fleet and the Legions will build a defensive line to prevent the Rangdan from continuing to infiltrate the Imperium of Man, protecting the stability of our territory and ensuring that the front line is maintained in the border regions."
The holographic image changed rapidly, the Cogitator array attempting to reconstruct the Primarch's thinking—a silkworm-like conflict zone appeared on the border of the Imperium of Man.
The names of the four war zones—Alpha, Beta, Gamma, and Delta—appeared. The silkworm-like conflict zone was divided into four, partitioned by the Warmaster into four war zones.
"I will undertake this task," Dorn raised his arm, taking on the defensive war with a sense of duty: "The Imperial Fists excel at defensive warfare."
"I can do it too," Ferrus also raised his silver arm, saying to Solas: "A long front line requires flexible defense; the Iron Hands are proficient in striking out in all directions."
"Count me in," another large blue hand was raised. Guilliman, with a polite smile on his handsome face, accepted a defensive line: "The Ultramarines have an old grudge with the Rangdan; we will never let them enter the Imperium of Man."
For Guilliman, the first encounter with his Gene-sons had not been pleasant, but he did not blame his scions.
He knew the full story and had long since charged this debt to the Rangdan, eager to unite the Legion through vengeance.
"That is best," Solas nodded with satisfaction, placing the Legion insignias on the four war zones, and added the Second Legion to complete the defensive line allocation.
"Next is the offensive direction." He began to lay out the attack routes, flicking his finger, and the Dark Angels Legion insignia was tossed out: "The Dark Angels Legion is deployed to the eastern front, to attack from the flank when the opportunity arises, invading the Rangdan territory to conduct the extermination warfare you excel at."
Lion ElJonson raised his hand and nodded, obeying the Warmaster's arrangements. He was ready to open his brothers' eyes in the field where the First Legion excelled.
"The Salamanders Legion." Another Legion insignia lit up, placed in the center of the front line.
Solas looked at Vulkan, feeling two parts apologetic toward his black brother: "The frontal battlefield has the greatest pressure, but only the Salamanders Legion is responsible for coordinating with me and the Imperial Fists, advancing and retreating with measure, to attract the Rangdan army to attack."
"It is my duty!" The black giant stood up, Vulkan patting his scaled chest plate, accepting the most dangerous frontal battlefield.
He knew the dangers of the frontal battlefield, yet he did not refuse, nor did he even haggle.
In a war concerning the survival of the race, personal interests were too insignificant. If humanity lost the Rangdan war, everything built upon the Imperium of Man would be finished.
"The Space Wolves and the Blood Angels." The last two Legion insignias lit up, and Solas deployed them to the west side of the front line: "The survival of the front line rests entirely on you."
"Utilize your assault advantages, transform into the most flexible blade, and attack the Rangdan front line from the side and rear."
"Remember not to get bogged down in combat; after delivering a fatal blow, withdraw from the battlefield quickly, aiming to cause maximum destruction."
Sanguinius and Russ stood up, nodding to accept the deployment, without raising any objections.
Solas had clear strategic thinking, insight into the advantages of both enemy and self, and reasonable tactical arrangements, capable of utilizing the strengths of each Legion.
"Fifth and Nineteenth Legions, hear my command." Having completed the deployment of the major Legions, Solas spoke out, summoning the two and a half Legions.
The two Legion Commanders stepped forward, standing like statues, waiting for the Primarch to make deployments for their Legions.
"After the war begins, the Fifth Legion will enter Rangdan territory amidst the chaos. Do not engage the xenos in direct conflict; you are only responsible for marking important enemy worlds to provide targets for the First Legion."
"The Nineteenth Legion will also enter Rangdan territory, but your mission is different."
Solas raised his hand, pointing toward the void behind the Rangdan front line, his eyes reflecting the emptiness: "You will use guerrilla tactics to harass the enemy's supply lines and map the Rangdan supply routes."
"We will strictly follow the Warmaster's orders!" The two Legion Commanders puffed out their chests and raised their heads, performing a warrior's salute, accepting the mission with resounding voices.
"As for the Eleventh Legion—" Solas's voice drew out, his gaze shifting to land on the Legion Commander in suit of fire-red armor. The Eleventh Legion was very mysterious; they rarely contacted the outside world, conquering along their own expedition routes.
No matter what venue they attended, the Legion Warriors were fully armored, never revealing their true faces before outsiders, nor did they coordinate with the Mortal Auxiliary Army.
From the reports submitted by the Legion, they excelled in siege warfare, especially hard siege warfare.
"Brother Vulkan," Solas called out softly, saying to the Lord of Drakes: "How about you coordinate the Eleventh Legion to alleviate some of the frontal pressure?"
"Very well." Vulkan looked at the Legion Commander, and after thinking for a few microseconds, agreed to the proposal.
The Eleventh Legion was very mysterious, but the War Council held them in high regard.
With the return of the Primarchs, the Legions no longer obeyed the War Council, setting their conquest routes primarily based on their Primarchs.
The War Council had limited binding power over the Primarchs, and when issuing some special orders, they would favor Legions without masters.
Among the Legions without masters, the Eleventh Legion was the top choice.
Their conquest efficiency was extremely high, and they faithfully executed war orders; they were a trustworthy Legion.
"Then let it be so."
Solas completed the deployment and brushed away the holographic projection. Supporting himself on the table, his slender figure stood up, a smile appearing on his gaunt face: "Brothers, begin executing your missions."
The Primarchs all stood up, looking around at each other, paying tribute from the bottom of their hearts to those fighting side by side, entrusting their lives to their blood brothers.
"United with blood as our foundation," Solas, as Warmaster, used appropriate language to inspire his brothers: "Only then can we defeat the xenos."
Lion ElJonson raised his right hand high, and after looking around at his brothers, let out a low roar that was almost an oath: "United as one! Defeat the xenos!"
"United as one! Defeat the xenos!"
The many Primarchs raised their right hands high, looking at the glorious faces of their brothers, their impassioned war cries sweeping through the conference hall like a storm, stirring up waves of resonance: "United as one! Defeat the xenos!"
The many Primarchs Guard responded to their Primarchs, erupting into fierce war cries; the Space Marines looked at each other, their voices unable to hide their trembling.
After completing the basic deployment, with over a dozen Legions fighting under the leadership of the Primarchs, this was the largest-scale campaign in the history of the Imperium of Man, one that might last for decades!
It was hard to imagine what kind of glory the Imperium of Man would welcome after victory in the Rangdan war? And how much honor awaited them?
The Legion Warriors never thought they would lose; under the leadership of the Emperor and the Primarchs, the Imperium of Man would surely defeat all xenos!
They had considered the possibility of huge sacrifices and various emergencies on the battlefield, but they never thought about losing.
Legion attendants poured in from both sides of the hall, holding silver bottles, presenting wine glasses to the Primarchs and pouring rich red wine.
"Brothers, let us raise our glasses." As the host, Dorn raised his wine glass, his serious face adding a touch of emotion: "Let us drink this fine wine together, celebrating the victory we are sure to achieve!"
"Cheers." The Primarchs raised their glasses, tilted their heads to drink the wine in their cups, and one after another revealed smiles.
"I will leave first; there are still many things that need to be prepared." Solas put down his empty wine glass and was the first to propose leaving.
"I will send a messenger to be stationed with the Second Legion later." Dorn saw him off reluctantly; as the host, he displayed the proper courtesy.
Solas waved his hand, turned around, and led his Legion Guard to leave the conference hall.
Once they heard he had gone far away, the Dark Angels Lion Guard were quick and nimble; a few walked out of the hall to stand guard, while others directly closed the large doors.
Dorn's face changed, taking on a few shades of gloom. Before he could speak to challenge Lion ElJonson, Vulkan sighed and said: "Isn't it a bit bad for us to do this?"