"Wolves, move! Charge!"
Russ stood atop a spire, his voice strained and hoarse, inspiring his Legion warriors to press forward relentlessly.
Hearing their Wolf King's imperative, strength surged within the Space Wolves; their legs turned to a blur as they surged toward the front lines.
The roar of bolter fire was dense as rain, chainswords shrieked, and the Rangdan proved utterly incapable of withstanding the wolf-pack tactics. The Wolves were impossibly cunning, their hunting skills honed to perfection, advancing the frontline through seamless coordination.
Transport drones hovered in the skies above on constant standby, dropping ammunition directly to squads while heavy supply drops catered to company-level needs. Heavy field missile nests descended from orbit, providing the Space Wolves with devastating fire support to root out Rangdan defensive strongholds.
"Now THIS is a fight!"
Russ grinned widely, and behind him, several Great Company Wolf Lords voiced their silent, heartfelt agreement, nodding in grim satisfaction.
The attack routes were crystal clear, logistical resupply was guaranteed, and war machinery was delivered right on time.
The active Denurian automated units on the battlefield outnumbered the Space Wolves a hundredfold, providing comprehensive tactical support to the Legion at every turn. Mechanical hounds scouted ahead to designate target units; laser drones patrolled low altitudes to control combat sectors; bombers remained on call, guaranteeing airstrikes at specified targets within ten seconds.
There were even various microscopic automatons probing deep into pipelines and structures to locate hidden traps and prevent unnecessary casualties.
All the Space Wolves had to do was charge! Charge! Charge!
They were free to unleash their untamed ferocity, unburdened by outside hazards, sinking their fangs into their prey to their hearts' content.
"Wolves, faster! Charge faster!"
Leading his retinue of high-ranking officers, Russ leapt down from the spire, once more urging the Wolves to pick up the pace.
In the brief span of a few breaths, the forward combat sector was fully mapped, even enemy artillery trajectories highlighted and waiting only for the Space Wolves' entry.
With such meticulous intelligence support, Russ led his Wolf Guard into a charge, spearheading the Legion's accelerated assault.
"Hurry it up, all of you!" The Great Wolf released a feral roar, his ferocity laid bare: "I will personally claim the life of the Rangdan commander!"
---
Moribas Solas's name had been stripped from human concept by the Emperor himself; only the Primarchs and a select few remained aware of it. "The Rangdan Commander" was his sole remaining designation.
"AWOOOO—! AWOOOO—!"
The wolf pack answered the Great Wolf with howls, picking up their pace even further.
Russ bore the Spear of Dionysus on his back, wielding the re-forged Kraken's Tooth in his left hand and bringing down the Axe of Helwinter with his right. Foul Rangdan blood splattered across his frost-rune power armor as the Primarch personally led his vanguard, gouging straight through successive layers of Rangdan defenses.
Though a bird's-eye view of the tactical hololith showed the Space Wolves making the fastest progress, Russ felt a sting of impatience in his heart. Powered by the Denurian data link, the Dark Angels' advance was barely a step behind that of the Space Wolves. The Salamanders and Iron Hands were no slacking either, advancing steadily and methodically toward the continental stronghold command center.
The Ultramarines and Imperial Fists had completed their Legion drop pod deployments; though late to the field, they were impossible to overlook. Guilliman's scions were vast in number, a sea of blue power armor that stretched as far as the eye could see. Having held the line against the Rangdan in Sector IV for years, Guilliman's meticulous stewardship had allowed the Ultramarines Legion to expand rather than shrink—a force of a hundred and fifty thousand Astartes whose sheer mass made one's scalp tingle. They needed no complex maneuvers; a simple tactical directive was enough for the Ultramarines to sweep the enemy aside.
The Imperial Fists operated by the book, their rigid discipline laced with unyielding precision, yet their advance was by no means slow. Sons of Dorn excelled at siege warfare and fort-breaking; in their eyes, the Rangdan defensive emplacements were riddled with flaws, and relying on that sharp keenness, the yellow Legion pushed forward like a hot knife through butter.
Russ was anxious inside; he had to reach Solas's command post as quickly as possible to execute the traitor who had sold out humanity's interests, exactly as the Emperor had commanded!
Beep~ Beep~
A notification pinged. Russ's expression turned even more urgent, the weapons in his hands swinging with renewed fury.
Blazkowicz had departed from the Emperor's palace!
"Wolves, double-time! Double-time!" The Wolf King roared, a thread of savagery creeping into his rough voice: "Charge for me! Abandon all secondary objectives and thrust directly for the Rangdan command center!"
The Space Wolves' eyes burned red as they pushed their bodily potential to the limit, driving the Legion's advance to an even higher gear. Casting all caution to the wind, they plunged into the tangled Rangdan defensive line, straining every nerve to keep pace with their genetic father.
Like a lone wolf breaking from the pack, the Legion detached from the main force, surging deeper into the Rangdan hinterlands.
---
In the command center of the Universe Island, Li Tang observed the sudden shift in formation, issuing cool, composed counter-directives: "Deploy additional scout machinery to continue providing data support for the Space Wolves."
"Notify the Dark Night Guard commander to plug the gap left by the Space Wolves. The main force will continue its steady advance."
Digital commands transmitted in an instant as the battle line shifted. The Dark Night Guard detached forces to plug the breach while the Space Wolves threw the Rangdan defenses into disarray.
Li Tang nodded quietly, his expression devoid of grief or joy; he did not even bother asking the Space Wolves why they had broken off from the main force. The Primarch of the Wolves was right there on the field; he possessed no power to alter a Primarch's will, and pressing the matter would only be courting embarrassment.
Besides, Li Tang had long prepared contingencies for such sudden detours by the Space Wolves. Nor did he believe that pushing forward so aggressively would yield any real strategic breakthrough.
Though the Rangdan were thrown into chaos, their underlying defenses remained formidable. A fortress-world was packed with countless hidden traps and defensive lines; an overly rapid thrust was bound to suffer a setback.
Sure enough, ten minutes later, the Space Wolves' assault stalled, their casualty rates climbing sharply.
Twenty minutes after launching their independent drive, the Dark Night Guard's vanguard caught up with the Space Wolves' rear elements.
Half an hour later, the main forces of both sides linked up, and the pack was re-integrated into the main assault line, regaining its momentum.
Having suffered a setback in his charge, Russ actually felt his inner anxiety ease considerably. If the Space Wolves could not break through the enemy line alone, the other Legions naturally could not either; none could single-handedly storm the central command post.
With the Space Wolves serving as a cautionary tale, the First Legion slowed its pace as well, waiting for brother Legions to join the field for a coordinated, steady push along the entire front.
The Rangdan were fish on the chopping block; there was no need to rush their slaughter.
The human void fleet had achieved absolute victory. Ninety-nine percent of the alien fleet had been wiped out, leaving only scattered warships fleeing into the Warp from the system's edge.
At present, the void of J-11 was clear, devoid of alien ships. The Imperium began reorganizing its fleet, preparing to spearhead the drive into the Rangdan Empire's sovereign territory to conduct a large-scale campaign of total extermination.
---
Seven Terran days later, several human Legions combined their forces, breaching the final defensive line before the Rangdan command center.
Planet VI lay scarred and broken, the fortress-world cloaked in billowing smoke, the atmosphere heavy with an inescapable stench of blood.
"Halt the advance!"
Twenty kilometers from the center of the cordon, the Primarchs ordered their respective Legions to cease fire and stand by on location.
The momentum of the attack ground to a sudden halt as the Legions held their ground in high alert.
"All fleets are to shut down augur arrays. No scanning or probing of the Rangdan command center in any form is permitted," Ferrus Manus's voice rang out as supreme commander, colder than a biting winter wind: "Any vessel violating this order will be destroyed immediately!"
In an instant, J-11 plunged into electromagnetic silence as the warships slowly pulled back from Planet VI's orbit.
---
Before the twenty-kilometer cordon, the Primarchs stood in solemn formation: Lion El'Jonson, Leman Russ, Rogal Dorn, Ferrus Manus, Naxiel Selene, Roboute Guilliman, and Vulkan.
The giants gathered in a tight circle, speaking in hushed tones, their varied armors gleaming with a cold luster beneath the dim, pale light. Legion veterans knelt before them, Tech-Adepts bowed their heads, and mortal generals trembled. Nearly all the Primarchs who had participated in the Second Rangdan Xenocides were present, with the sole exception of the Great Angel, Sanguinius.
A shuttle descended from the sky. Draped in a simple black robe, Blazkowicz stepped out of the hatch, casting an apologetic look at his brothers: "My apologies. I was delayed by a matter."
Just moments ago, he had been in communication with the Emperor aboard the warship. With the divine authority sealed, the Master of Mankind had commanded the Sisters of Silence to journey toward the galactic rim and cast the sealed stone containers into the deep void.
"It is of no moment," Lion offered a warm, polite smile, waving a hand to indicate no apology was necessary. Standing tall on such a monumental occasion, the Lion carried an aura of stern majesty, thrusting out his battle-scarred breastplate to display his unignorable battle honors.
The other Primarch brothers nodded with smiles, greeting Blazkowicz in turn.
"Let us proceed," Vulkan's voice was deep and resonant as he unslung his warhammer behind his back.
The atmosphere turned heavy at once. The brothers exchanged flickering glances, nodding solemnly.
Blazkowicz turned to Harlan: "Contact Li Tang. Establish a total perimeter seal along the cordon."
Harlan gave a heavy nod, quietly passing the message through his vox-bead. He was one of the very few who knew what the Primarchs were about to do.
Shuttles deployed jamming equipment around the perimeter, erecting an absolute isolation barrier.
"Let us go," Guilliman shook his head with a sigh, profound sorrow evident across his radiant face as he stepped through the isolation barrier first.
The brothers followed through the barrier. Ferrus's silver fist clenched until his joints popped, a cold glint flashing in his eyes: "Let us go face our renegade brother!"
Outside the barrier, the Primarchs' honor guards exchanged bewildered glances, unable to comprehend why their Primarchs would leave behind their inseparable retinues to personally execute the Rangdan commander.
As for the Primarchs' physical safety, they didn't harbor the slightest concern.
When eight Primarchs walked side by side, who in the universe could possibly threaten the safety of such legendary beings?