Planets Seven and Six were locked in a stalemate, their mountain-sized cannons exchanging fire. The Rangdan hid within the wreckage of warships, descending onto the human primary planet along with the debris.
"For the Emperor! For the Lion!"
The Dark Angels let out roars of fury, sharp as black sabers, tearing through the outer defenses of the landing zone and launching a purge against the Rangdan.
They unleashed the rage within their hearts, swearing that under the watchful eyes of their brother legions, they would wash away the shame of the First Rangdan Xenocide!
During that campaign, the First Legion had suffered catastrophic losses.
Now, they would use the foul blood of the xenos to sacrifice to their fallen brothers.
Luther, guarded by two masters of the blade, was present on the battlefield, constantly monitoring the Rangdan's movements to adjust tactics and deployments.
His heart surged as he watched tens of thousands of superhuman soldiers execute an extermination of the aliens.
Caliban had never seen a legion-level war of such scale.
The legionnaires were strictly deployed according to tactical guidance, pushing their individual skills to the limit, while using the bond of their bloodlines to achieve a synergy on the genetic level.
Those legion "brothers" were extremely fierce in combat, even bordering on brutal.
Chainswords and power swords—the Dark Angels' blades were filled with anger, hacking with savage violence to cleave through biomass armor.
Gravity rays, temporal weapons, and disintegration weapons—relics from the Dark Age of Technology—were manipulated by the Wings of Iron, slaughtering alien life.
Clusters of Mastodon heavy armored vehicles and Rhino transports surged forward, using armor and shields to deflect attacks as they smashed into the Rangdan lines.
When the rear hatches and side doors opened, deadly passengers swarmed out.
Assault squads took the lead, fighting in the vanguard to seize positions for the follow-up troops, grappling with the aliens.
As they charged into the alien lines, the rear units were already closing in.
The bone-white Terminator armor was striking; the Deathwing Terminators moved with heavy, deliberate steps, opening breakthroughs for the legionnaires.
Mixed in with the charging squads were towering figures—Dreadnoughts moved slowly, their heavy weapons firing incessantly to provide heavy fire support.
These warriors, who had given their all for humanity, continued to fight even with shattered bodies from within their sarcophagi.
Inside the Contemptor Dreadnought, the operator was an Astartes; he might have been a hero of the legion or someone who had made extraordinary contributions.
Upon suffering incurable, grievous wounds on the battlefield, his limbs were amputated, and his torso was interred into a sarcophagus to continue serving the Emperor.
How cruel it was—the heroic warriors would never find rest.
But perhaps they carried resentment; while entombed, they refused to abandon their unfinished duty.
Appearing on the battlefield in a Dreadnought meant there was still fire in their hearts, unleashed fully upon the enemies of humanity!
Coaxial laser cannons shattered the Rangdan; Typhoon missiles destroyed bunkers; assault cannons wrecked enemy vehicles.
Their gait was somewhat slow but unwavering; the Dreadnoughts stood amidst the torrent of the legion's charge, using heavy firepower to eliminate threats.
Beside the Dreadnoughts, the tracks of legion vehicles rolled on, protecting the legion's precious assets.
The main guns of Predator tanks fired incessantly, and various weapons harvested enemy lives.
The landing zone was the Lion's trap—vast and open with no terrain to hold, extremely suitable for armored clusters and heavy infantry charges.
But the tenacity of the Rangdan exceeded the norm.
The defensive lines at the landing zone were crude and dilapidated; anti-vehicle trenches had not yet been dug, and heavy fire platforms were difficult to deploy.
The battlefield environment was entirely unfavorable.
The aliens raised their guns to shoot at the humans and drew plasma blades for melee combat.
Because the Rangdan warriors were equally heroic and fearless, fighting for the continuation of their race, and having come to dominate the galaxy!
The Rangdan elite warriors' mental fluctuations were intense; they communicated rapidly, forming combat units to slaughter the Astartes charging into their lines.
Radiation guns melted carbon-steel power armor, plasma blades sliced through reinforced bodies, and lasers vaporized flesh and blood.
The alien warriors' will was incredibly firm, and they, too, burned with the fire of vengeance!
For over a decade of confrontation, the despicable humans had wantonly tortured their captured kin and humiliated the Rangdan over public communications.
They could not endure such atrocities!
"Humans, die! I shall burn you with the fire of vengeance!"
The Rangdan Overlord shrieked, emitting strong mental pollution from its body, pressuring the Astartes' cognitive functions.
It was a champion; it had killed dozens of Astartes in front of the lines, and dragging its blood-stained blade, it issued a provocative challenge.
"I have come to slay you!"
Someone answered it. A black-clad warrior charged to the front, wielding a knightly greatsword, his voice still somewhat youthful inside his power armor.
"Corswain." The warrior declared his name, gripping the greatsword with both hands, his black combat boots crushing the stone tiles beneath him.
He carried a solemn, knightly aura, his charge imbued with fearlessness, his eyes locked onto the alien Rangdan.
Corswain, who had come from Caliban following the Lion's summons, was an unremarkable legionnaire who had only recently completed his transformation surgery.
Facing the deaths of his legion brothers and the scornful taunts of the alien, he bravely stood forward to face the alien overlord.
"A nobody, a soul for my blade." The alien overlord roared, its bio-armor legs moving; in the blink of an eye, it was before the Astartes.
It raised its plasma blade, intending to replicate a slash—to execute the human warrior and avenge the humiliation of its kin.
Skree-ch!
But this time, unexpectedly, the moment the plasma blade fell, it deflected, emitting a harsh, grinding sound.
The Rangdan Overlord's bio-eyes looked down: the human warrior had parried with his greatsword, the blade tilted downward, perfectly dissipating the full force of the blow.
The next moment, the bio-armor shook; sensors indicated severe damage to the abdomen.
Corswain punched the Rangdan Overlord in the stomach, then hoisted his glowing greatsword again, holding back the Rangdan Overlord with brute force.
Legion brothers kept flashing past him, and he knew he had to defeat this formidable enemy quickly.
"Don't even think about running." He growled, his footsteps rapid but steady, pursuing the alien as it tried to flee.
He drew the hilt of his greatsword to his waist, pointed the tip toward the alien overlord's cockpit, and thrust straight forward.
The blade split the hot smoke; the knight with the greatsword moved forward without hesitation, the disintegration field illuminating a lethal strike.
Blade clashed with blade, ringing out clearly. The disintegration field hissed at its edge, and as it rubbed against the plasma blade, the edge rapidly turned crimson.
The Rangdan Overlord parried the incoming blade, its heart filled with anxiety.
Having failed to slay the human warrior with the first strike, it had missed the best opportunity to retreat; now, its comrades were falling, and it was about to be surrounded.
The situation was dire!
Sure enough, its bio-sensors quickly triggered an alarm—a blade was coming from its side.
It decisively raised its blade to parry, pushing aside the human sword, and used a sweep to briefly clear its rear.
Beep... Beep...
Suddenly, the biomass nerve sensors sent a warning. It saw a greatsword, wrapped in lightning, pierce through the cockpit.
"I am your opponent!"
The growl was bright and clear. As the alien overlord was distracted by other legion brothers, Corswain had seized the opportunity to drive his knightly greatsword into the bio-mech's cockpit.
The disintegration lightning evaporated the biomass, punching through the cockpit, and the bio-mech's limbs began to twitch.
Corswain pressed the greatsword down further, slicing through the machine and cleaving it in two!
The Rangdan Overlord, who had slain many brothers, was put to death. Corswain flicked the dark green blood off his blade and continued to follow the legion's charge.
He had been delayed for less than a second, yet his legion brothers had already boarded the forward position and were killing their way into the deeper levels.
"Have you taken a liking to him?"
At the forward command post, Astelan asked Alajos with great interest. He had seen the corner of the battlefield, a touch of appreciation for talent showing in his eyes.
As a member of the Legion Temple Knights, Alajos possessed superb swordsmanship and had few rivals within the legion.
To be a person who could interest him, Corswain was indeed quite impressive.
"A good seed." Alajos's voice was very low; he nodded in approval. "If he asks me to be his mentor, I will accept."
Astelan nodded slightly; he, too, had seen Corswain's potential, and in time, he might become a legend.
"Let's wait until he survives the battlefield first."
Alajos fell silent, shifting his gaze to the battlefield to continue observing the situation.
He had been ordered by the Lion to protect Luther. Since there were no anomalies at the command post, he could find time to look for warriors with potential.
After all, no matter how training is evaluated, it never compares to the true battlefield.
Some people are naturally suited for tests, while others are warriors for the moment of truth.
Astelan said no more, fading back into the shadows like a silent statue, scanning the command post and guarding against any threatening presence.
On the command dais, Luther's ears twitched; he noted the name Corswain.
Astelan and Alajos were extraordinary—the top warriors of the legion.
The former had fought everyone in the legion without defeat; the latter had no losses except against the former.
Being able to attract the attention of two masters of the blade meant that Corswain himself was a stock with potential, and one worth keeping in mind.
Ambition requires strength to support it.
Luther asked himself: in terms of personal martial prowess, he was at the bottom of the First Legion; his semi-augmented body could not compare to the super-human warriors.
If he wanted to maintain his voice, he needed not only the protection of Lion El'Jonson but also support from within the legion.