This is a jungle of steel and iron.
Black, gray, and silver spread with their footsteps. Bright spots of light streaked across the surface of the metal, calm and hard.
The only thing that breaks this depressing atmosphere is the Iron Warriors flags hanging on both walls of the corridor. The dazzling yellow and black stripes crisscross, warning the visitors.
The sound of the incense burner touching the armor was rustling, but it seemed so small amid the dull footsteps.
The robot servant opened the door for them.
Mortarion strode in without hesitation, and behind him, the Deathshrouds followed their Primarch in silence.
The tall room was made entirely of steel, without any useless patterns or decorations. The minimalist, cold lines were straight, and countless black screens were embedded in the walls, with dense information rushing through them at a rapid speed.
In the center of the room, under the huge banner, the Lord of Steel stood there.
Perturabo.
Mortarion silently said the name in his mind, studying his brother.
The Lord of Steel was clad in thick silver-grey armor, the metal seeming like an extension of his body, gleaming faintly in the white light of the room.
Countless cables extended from his brain, connected to the armor, and exploded violently.
Mortarion's first impression of this brother was that he was very similar to Finus Manus. They both had the texture of metal, rational and cold.
But given that Mortarion had not gotten along well with Fenus before, Mortarion decided to lower his expectations again.
Malcador had mentioned Perturabo to Mortarion before, but the cunning mortal psyker did not elaborate on the matter.
“I care a lot about the outside world and myself.”
This was Machado's only comment.
Mortarion felt that this sentence was just as good as not saying it. Malcador always liked to say something ambiguous, and then let people think freely and finally be convinced by the words of this politician.
Mortarion did learn some information about Perturabo and his legion from Hades in advance. Hades had previously come into contact with these warriors who liked to compare themselves to steel on Mars.
Mortarion remembered Hades's hesitant expression.
"From what I have heard, the Iron Warriors are in awe of their father, but every time they mention him, their awe is tinged with fatigue and exhaustion."
Mortarion blinked. Of course the sons needed to be in awe of their father, but tired
Mortarion would never intentionally tire his children. They needed to respect Mortarion, or perhaps fear Mortarion, but they would not feel tired.
Death Guard is not a place to feel tired.
Neither is he.
Mortarion thought to himself.
Then his brother must not care much about his offspring. Mortarion felt a little dissatisfied, but these emotions were quickly blown away.
He didn't care about the affairs of other legions. As long as they didn't disturb the Death Guard, Mortarion would not easily raise his eyes from his own world.
Seeing Mortarion enter the room, his brother also came over from the strategic table.
"Hello."
Mortarion's hoarse voice sounded, and he raised his hand first, wanting to express his sincerity.
He just wanted to beat up any alien and get away from the trivial government documents. Mortarion didn't care which legion to cooperate with.
As long as he was not working with Fainus or Vulkan, Mortarion would tolerate subtle and unintentional malice towards others.
Perturabo looked at Mortarion who entered the room. He deliberately chose a strategic room that he admired the most to receive this brother from the agricultural planet.
This strategic room can display information of an entire star field at the same time, and the program set by Perturabo himself will allow this information to be presented on the screen in the most efficient way.
Few other brothers can be as precise and efficient as he is.
Perturabo looked at Mortarion who had just entered the room, hoping that his brother could understand all this.
But Perturabo soon realized that he could not see his brother clearly.
Mortarion obscured everything about himself.
As previous assumptions faded from his brother, Perturabo found that Mortarion seemed so different compared to the other Primarchs he had known.
Mortarion was tall, and Perturabo was sure that only Vulkan and Magnus could reach that height.
But it was not Mortarion's height that concerned Perturabo.
His brother had a breathing mask covering the lower half of his face, and his hood was pulled very low, with its shadow covering the upper half of his face.
Countless incense burners were tied to Mortarion's armor, and pungent poisonous gases slowly rose up, mixing with white smoke, further obscuring Mortarion's already hidden face.
This made Perturabo unable to see Mortarion's expression clearly.
Perturabo was briefly confused, and the foul and pungent poison gas made him subconsciously feel dissatisfied.
But Mortarion's proactive greeting interrupted Perturabo, who naturally extended his hand and they shook hands.
"Captain of the Fourth Legion, Lord of Olympia, Perturabo."
"Captain of the Fourteenth Legion, Lord of Barbarus, Mortarion."
The two men let go of each other's hands tacitly and shook hands briefly. It seemed that neither of them liked this way of welcoming.
"The Fourteenth Legion received a distress signal from the Forge World of Graeae, so we rushed here."
Mortarion spoke, his eyes moving to the chess pieces on the strategy table.
"But it looks like you've already started."
The Lord of Death's voice was soft, like the breeze blowing through farmland, and Perturabo could not hear any emotion in it.
But he was pleased with Mortarion's choice of words, yes, "Forge World" rather than "Iron Warriors".
"Yes, the Iron Warriors have begun the campaign."
Perturabo tried his best to sound nonchalant. In fact, he really didn't care about this little war. If it weren't for Mortarion's request for a meeting, Perturabo would not have stayed here for too long.
He turned sideways and led Mortarion to the strategic table, where the battlefield of Planet 106 was reproduced in real time by these tiny chess pieces.
The Iron Warriors' long-range heavy weapons units have been pushed to Mine Area 02, providing sufficient firepower support for the Iron Warriors fighting on the front line of Area 03.
The Stormbird flew through low altitude, and with the coordinated attack of ground forces, it passed through the enemy's air defense area and unleashed artillery fire on the opponent's heavy firepower equipment.
On the front line fighting against the Necron infantry, the Predator tanks were advancing in coordination with the Iron Warriors. The fire support from the rear made the advancement of the battle line as smooth as loading a bullet.
To Perturabo's regret, the enemy has not yet deployed some high-powered aircraft. Their air force is only a swarm of scarabs, which makes the sky area on this three-dimensional map a little empty.
He also could not have better demonstrated his own superb ability to control the battlefield.
Perturabo looked at the strategic table, but his mind was not here. The pungent poison gas beside him made him feel dissatisfied, but he still stood here patiently waiting.
Look at this exquisite battle situation, a three-dimensional mobile battlefield, which is far beyond the ability of those who only fight land battles on agricultural planets.
However, Mortarion stood there like a dead tree, without any reaction.
Compared to Perturabo, Mortarion was staring at the map. He found with regret that it seemed that this war did not require the participation of the Death Guard.
When Mortarion remained silent, Perturabo folded his arms.
Mortarion was still trying to find a battle zone where the Death Guard could intervene.
Mortarion was still staring at the strategy table in thought.
Perturabo paused again.
Mortarion still stood motionless.
In the room, Hades, standing in his death shroud, saw this scene and his hair almost stood on end.
This wave needs to be sent.
Perturabo is different from Fenus and Vulkan. This guy probably can't tolerate a "low-level" person interfering in his "high-level" conversation.
Although Hades had subtly scolded Perturabo several times in front of Mortarion before this, intending to lower Mortarion's previous impression of Perturabo so that Mortarion could prepare in advance.
As long as your expectations are not high, reality will not be too cruel.
But obviously, Mortarion, who was obsessed with "finally not having to review documents", didn't listen much.
The Tridents on the other side were not feeling well either. They were Perturabo's military advisers in the legion and were often by the Primarch's side. Some of them had already realized that something was wrong.
For a moment there was no sound in the room except the sounds of Perturabo's movements and Mortarion's screams through his breathing mask.
Except for Mortarion, everyone felt a huge sense of oppression.
Mortarion blinked. Perhaps he could let the Death Guard land at the rear of Mine 03, and then form a pincer attack with the Iron Warriors on the front line, tearing open the opponent's front line from both sides.
The prerequisite is that the Iron Warriors must provide the Death Guard with brief air superiority in this area and suppress the enemy's rear firepower, otherwise the Death Guard's landing will become difficult.
Mortarion briefly assessed the Iron Warriors' forces and was pleased to find that they could provide air superiority to the Death Guard.
Although Mortarion was unhappy about another Legion providing him with air superiority, he knew that if the Death Guard arrived first, they would definitely be able to easily take over the area in less time than his brother.
His brother spent part of his time repairing the trenches, which was obviously unnecessary.
"Can the Iron Warriors gain air superiority over this place?"
Mortarion pointed to the spot on the strategy table.
Perturabo was stunned for a moment, but then he raised his voice and said loudly,
Mortarion was questioning his abilities. A man who had just led one battle was questioning him
"Can't you see the results achieved by the Iron Warriors here? Air supremacy is clearly already in their bag, or do you fail to understand the definition of air supremacy?"
As Perturabo began his rant, Mortarion frowned, not understanding why his brother was suddenly angry.
He even deliberately avoided directly raising the topic of ordering the Death Guard to go down, because he knew that "offering help actively" was not widely recognized among the legions.
But when Perturabo finished the second half of his sentence, Mortarion's confusion instantly turned into anger.
"What do you mean?"
Mortarion's words hissed out like the core of a venomous snake, and he tightened his grip on his scythe, Annihilation.
"Perhaps the three-dimensional battlefield is still a little difficult for you to understand."
Perturabo stared at Mortarion with indifference. He should not expect a man from an agricultural world to understand his wisdom.
Hearing Perturabo's ridicule, Mortarion laughed twice, but his laughter sounded more like a leper's cough to outsiders.
Mortarion didn't understand why Perturabo suddenly started attacking him, but Mortarion accepted it quickly. It would be better to say that Mortarion acquiesced that everyone might attack him.
"It seems that my wise brother obviously wants to show off his complicated knowledge, but I am sorry that I cannot understand your complicated words."
Mortarion deliberately allowed his words to be tinged with a Barbarusian accent, which made his voice sound more slurred, rapid, and vulgar.
"But if you understand the battlefield so well, why don't you follow him?"
"Instead, it's here, next to a brother who 'doesn't understand three-dimensional battlefields'."
They all knew who that "he" was.
Mortarion hoped that his attack had hit home, for during their time together, Malcador had often commented on the Primarch's over-emphasis on the Emperor.
Mortarion cared little for what the impostor had to say, but he realized that his brothers did not.
Perturabo roared in anger.
"You just joined the Empire, what do you know? Every time he goes on a campaign, he just randomly selects nearby legions, and the Iron Warriors are given other more difficult and glorious tasks by him, which are completely incomprehensible to people like you."
Mortarion realized that his attack had worked. Ha, another child who cared too much about his father.
He decided to continue the attack, using what little knowledge he had of the other Primarchs and Legions.
"Really? Then Horus Lupercal's legion happened to be near the Emperor's army every time?"
Before Mortarion finished speaking, Perturabo, who was facing him, suddenly became like a piece of metal again.
"go out."
Perturabo said firmly,
"Redneck."
Mortarion paused, glancing at his scythe.
Hades was going completely crazy after seeing Mortarion's actions. He hoped that something could quickly end this ridiculous dispute, or if he could say something -
The alarm sounded.
On the map, from the back of Planet 106, a fleet of spaceships glowing bright green suddenly appeared in the void. The sickle-shaped black spaceships were flying towards the Iron Warriors fleet parked near the asteroid belt 106!
The aboveground tomb system recognized the scale of the Iron Warriors and Death Guard, and further activated the dormant Necron army.
Perturabo glanced at the ships, far outnumbered by the Iron Warriors' fleet and not worth mentioning.
[Mortarion?]
Taking advantage of the brief silence between the two, Hades quickly opened the private call channel.
[Go back quickly and evacuate the Death Guard ships to the rear of the Iron Warriors ships! ]
Let the Iron Warriors fleet attract a wave of firepower first. It seems that Perturabo does not realize the superiority of the Necron fleet!
The sudden alarm and Hades' nervous words interrupted Mortarion's anger.
Mortarion was silent for a moment.
The Death Guard's ships were indeed recently replenished, as they had already lost some of them in Galasper.
Mortarion was also unwilling to lose his ship in this situation, in front of Perturabo.
[Walk.]
Mortarion glanced at Perturabo and turned away.
They had nothing to talk about.
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(End of this chapter)