From orbit, divine punishment descended.
The Macro Cannon arrays of the cruiser "storm" let out their first roar.
Massive beams of energy, powerful enough to vaporize a frigate in an instant, slammed ruthlessly into the filthy atmosphere of Nest-7.
Following closely were hundreds of Lance and plasma batteries from the entire fleet, some thick and some thin.
A merciless orbital bombardment ensued, lasting for three standard hours.
The planet's surface was plowed over repeatedly.
From space, the planet looked like a rotting apple cast into a furnace. Crimson magma flowed freely across the scorched surface, forming hideous scars.
The layer of writhing biological tissue that had once covered the entire planet had now turned to ash and charcoal.
General Varnes stood on the bridge, watching this hellish scene through a massive viewport.
His throat felt dry.
This had already exceeded the scope of mere warfare.
This was pure, reckless destruction.
"First and second landing forces, prepare for deployment."
"Astra Militarum, act as the vanguard and clear Landing Zone One."
Reinhardt's cold voice echoed through the bridge, snapping Varnes out of his brief daze.
His command was transmitted through encrypted channels to every ship in the fleet and into the ears of every soldier.
Inside the massive hangar of a transport ship.
The Dominion Soldiers were performing their final checks.
Dressed in grey-green standard-issue power armor, they slapped each other on the shoulders, using banter to mask their internal tension.
"Hey, did you hear? This time the target is a roasted planet."
"I hope those bugs aren't too tough; I don't want their green blood staining my new boots."
Beside them, however, was a completely different scene.
Five hundred Cadian Shock Troops stood in silent formation.
There was no expression on their faces.
They were merely chanting pre-battle prayers in a low voice with a unique rhythm.
"As the Emperor wills, so I shall act."
"With a body of iron, I perform the act of purification."
Their voices merged together, forming an invisible, heart-pounding force.
A tall man wearing a skull mask and a black greatcoat walked slowly past the ranks.
He was the Political Commissar.
In his hand, he held no gun, only a heavy book of scripture bound in metal.
His gaze swept across the face of every soldier.
"The Emperor is watching you."
His voice was not loud, yet it entered the ears of every Astra Militarum soldier clearly.
"Do not fail the Imperium."
"For the Emperor!"
Five hundred soldiers stopped their chanting simultaneously and slammed their right fists against the Aquila badges on their chests.
A uniform, dull "thump" rang out.
Fanaticism burned in their eyes.
"All units, enter landing craft! Deployment begins!"
Dozens of valkyrie assault carriers, like a swarm of bees leaving the hive, detached from the mothership and dove toward the planet that had turned into a purgatory.
Passing through the scorching atmosphere filled with sulfur and ash.
The sight before them made everyone hold their breath.
The ground was scorched black.
The sky was dark red.
The air was thick with the nauseating smell of burnt protein.
"Landing Zone One is clear, prepare for touchdown."
*Chhhh—*
The landing craft's hatches opened.
A scorching wind carrying the scent of death rushed inside.
"Cadians! Advance!"
Sergeant Baston was the first to charge out.
Behind him were countless silent and determined figures.
They were the first human army to set foot on this scorched earth.
The Astra Militarum Soldiers displayed incredible efficiency.
Without a moment's hesitation, they immediately established defensive positions in the open landing zone.
Prefabricated alloy bunkers were rapidly assembled within minutes.
The muzzles of heavy Bolters were set up at every corner of the position, their dark openings exuding an aura of death.
A line of defense composed of steel and fire quickly took shape.
The Dominion Marines followed close behind.
Watching their allies' skillful, textbook-perfect deployment, their faces showed shock and a hint of self-consciousness.
"These guys... are they really human?"
A young Dominion second lieutenant murmured to himself.
Before his words could fade.
The earth began to vibrate.
A black tide appeared on the distant horizon.
No, it wasn't a tide.
It was an endless swarm of Tyranids burrowing out from deep underground.
The orbital bombardment had destroyed their surface nests, but it hadn't killed them.
Instead, it had enraged them.
"Massive biological signatures detected! Numbers... immeasurable!"
"They're coming!"
The piercing alarms mixed with the tooth-grinding screeches of the swarm to compose the first movement of the war.
"For the Emperor! Fire!"
The Political Commissar stood at the highest point of the position, holding his scriptures high like a lighthouse in the dark night.
*Hummm—*
On the Astra Militarum line, hundreds of lasguns spat out tongues of death simultaneously.
Red beams of light wove an airtight net of fire under the dim sky.
The leading Tyranids fell in swathes, like wheat before a scythe.
Their carapaces were as fragile as paper before the high-temperature laser beams.
But there were too many of them.
As one row died, ten more immediately surged forward from behind.
Fearless of death, they trampled over the corpses of their kin, frantically charging the human defense line.
*Boom! Boom!*
The heavy Bolters began to roar.
Each bolt shell blasted a massive gap in the swarm, sending severed limbs and green blood flying everywhere.
But those gaps would be filled by even more bugs in the next second.
The battle reached a fever pitch from the very start.
The Dominion Marines also joined the fray.
Their blaster rifles, while not as powerful as lasguns, provided a dense volume of fire that effectively slowed the swarm's advance.
One hour passed.
Two hours.
Before the defense line, the corpses of the Tyranids had piled up into small hills several meters high.
The air was thick with the smell of blood and char, nearly suffocating.
Reinhardt and General Varnes hovered high above the battlefield in an independent command shuttle.
Through the viewport, they could clearly see the tragic, meat-grinder-like battlefield below.
General Varnes's face was somewhat pale.
He had commanded countless battles, but this was the first time he had seen such a primitive and bloody scene.
"Casualty report."
Reinhardt's voice interrupted his thoughts.
A staff officer immediately reported: "Reporting to the commander, we have one hundred and twenty-seven dead and three hundred and fifty-four seriously wounded. Among them, Dominion Marine casualties account for ninety percent. The Astra Militarum... three dead."
Hearing this number, General Varnes's pupils constricted sharply.
Both were fighting on the front lines, yet the casualty ratio was disparate to such an extent.
He looked at Reinhardt, his eyes full of complexity.
Just what kind of existence were this man and the army he brought?
"Commander, although the enemy's offensive is fierce, it is still within our control. As long as we hold the line and advance gradually, it is estimated that we can complete the purification of this continent within twelve standard days."
General Varnes forcibly suppressed the shock in his heart and made a professional judgment.
"Too slow."
Reinhardt shook his head.
He reached out and drew a red arrow pointing directly into the heart of the interior on the holographic map.
"Pass down my orders."
"All armored units are to form a spearhead formation. Target: the area with the densest enemy energy signals."
"I want to see your flags planted in that area within three hours."
"Infantry units, follow on the flanks and expand the gains."
General Varnes was aghast.
"Commander! This is too risky! Deep penetration without support—if we are surrounded, our armored units will be wiped out!"
"Execute the order."
Reinhardt did not explain.
He simply looked at Varnes with cold, unquestionable eyes.
Varnes opened his mouth, but in the end, he lowered his head in resignation.
"Yes, commander."
With the issuance of the order.
Dozens of Leman Russ Tanks and Dominion Grizzly main battle tanks roared as they drove out from behind the defense line.
They formed a massive steel spearhead and plunged ruthlessly into the black tide of bugs.
The tank turrets rotated constantly, spitting out lethal fire.
Countless bugs were crushed into pulp or torn to pieces by cannon fire.
A road paved with blood and steel was forcibly carved out through the sea of insects.
But just as the armored units had advanced less than ten kilometers.
An anomaly occurred.
*Vrrr—*
A silent screech, yet one powerful enough to make the soul tremble, swept across the entire battlefield without warning.
It was a sound that defied description.
It rang directly in the minds of every human soldier.
Filled with chaos, malice, and a primitive, pure sense of hunger from ancient times.
A Dominion Marine who was firing suddenly froze.
His eyes instantly became hollow.
The next second, he let out a shrill scream, threw down his weapon, and clutched his helmet tightly with both hands, rolling frantically on the ground.
"Get out! Get out of my head!"
He was not the first.
Nor would he be the last.
Hundreds of Dominion Soldiers broke down at the same time.
Some clutched their heads and wept, as if they had seen the most terrifying sight in the world.
Some turned their weapons and began firing wildly at their own comrades.
Others simply knelt on the ground, giving up all resistance and letting the bugs submerge them.
Panic, like a plague, instantly destroyed the will of the Dominion army.
Their lines collapsed in just a few seconds.
Even those roaring steel beasts were not spared.
Inside a Grizzly tank, the driver suddenly began banging his head against the console like a madman, his mouth constantly muttering the name of his deceased daughter.
The gunner, with a vacant expression, began singing nursery rhymes.
The entire tank instantly lost control and crashed into the friendly unit beside it.
"It's psychic! It's a Psychic attack!"
Inside the command shuttle, a psychic detector screamed in terror.
"Detecting ultra-high intensity psychic signal sources! Right in front of the armored units! At least... five of them!"
On the holographic map, five large red dots flashing with ominous purple light appeared out of thin air.
There, five massive monsters the size of small warships, writhing like giant brains, slowly rose from the ground.
They had no limbs, no facial features.
Only countless waving tentacles flashing with psychic electricity.
Psyker Brain-Worms.
It was they who were coordinating the entire swarm's attack.
And it was they who were using pure mental power to destroy human will.
"Damn it!"
General Varnes slammed his fist onto the console.
He finally understood why the orbital bombardment hadn't killed these monsters.
They had been hiding deep underground all along.
They were waiting for the human army to step into the trap they had carefully prepared.
"What's the status of the Astra Militarum?" he asked urgently.
The screen switched to the Astra Militarum position.
The situation was equally grim.
Many Astra Militarum Soldiers were also affected.
Their faces were deathly pale, their bodies trembling, and fine lines of blood even seeped from their facial orifices.
But not a single one of them broke.
They remained at their posts, mechanically and numbly repeating the motions of firing.
The last trace of human emotion seemed to have been stripped from their eyes.
Leaving only absolute obedience to orders.
"Cowards!"
The Political Commissar's roar echoed across the entire position.
He shot a soldier who tried to retreat through the head.
"The Emperor has not granted you the right to be weak!"
"Pick up your guns! To die for the Emperor is an honor!"
His voice was like a shot of adrenaline injected into the hearts of every faltering soldier.
Grit their teeth, they endured the soul-tearing pain, turning all their anger and fear into bullets fired at the enemy.
But even so, the offensive had completely stalled into a stalemate.
The armored units, after losing a third of their strength, were pinned down and unable to move.
The infantry units were suppressed by the omnipresent mental shock, unable to even lift their heads.
Casualties were climbing sharply at a terrifying rate.
"commander!"
General Varnes, eyes bloodshot, rushed in front of Reinhardt.
"We must retreat! Now! Immediately!"
"We've walked into an ambush! If we don't leave now, everyone will die here!"
"This isn't war anymore! This is a massacre!"
Reinhardt, however, didn't even lift an eyelid.
His gaze remained locked on the five flickering purple-black dots on the holographic map.
There was no panic on his face; in fact, there was no expression at all.
"General, what do you think war is?"
He asked calmly.
Varnes was taken aback.
"Is this the time for this?!"
"Answer me."
Reinhardt's voice remained calm, yet carried an unquestionable authority.
Varnes took a deep breath, suppressing the anger in his heart.
"War is an organized act of violence carried out to achieve strategic goals! It is about trading the smallest cost for the greatest victory!"
"Wrong."
Reinhardt shook his head.
"War is a contest of wills."
He stood up and walked over to Varnes.
He was not taller than Varnes.
But at that moment, Varnes felt as though he were looking up at an insurmountable mountain.
"The bugs are testing us with their will."
"They are asking us if humanity is still worthy of the title 'Masters of the Universe'."
"They are asking us if our will is harder than their carapaces."
"And you, General," Reinhardt's gaze became sharp as a blade, "want to answer them with 'retreat'."
"I..." Varnes felt his heart tremble under that gaze, and he actually took half a step back.
"There is no retreat."
Reinhardt's voice was resolute.
"Pass down my orders: anyone who retreats is to be executed on the spot."
"Regard this as the ultimate test of human will."
"We will prove to the entire universe here that the human will never yields!"
Varnes was completely stunned.
He looked at Reinhardt's young face, which was written with madness and coldness.
He finally understood.
The man before him was not a commander at all.
He was a madman.
A complete madman who viewed war as a sacred ritual.
And all of them, whether Dominion Soldiers or the fanatics of the Astra Militarum.
Were merely insignificant... sacrifices in his ritual.