[Warmaster? Not interested.]
Mortarion spoke slowly, his eyes from beneath his hood glancing at Fenus and Vulkan in front of him before looking away nonchalantly.
He seemed to be provoking Finus, but also seemed not to be. Vulkan felt the magma surging faintly under Finus's cold shell. He sighed and changed the subject.
[Perhaps we should look at our next target, Planet 154-4, which is called Ibsen in the ancient language of the locals.]
[Wait a moment.]
Mortarion opened his hand.
[I need to know who is leading this war - it will save me a lot of trouble.]
Vulkan spoke.
[I.]
Before he finished speaking, Mortarion narrowed his eyes, and his gaze moved between Vulkan and Fenus in confusion, as if he didn't believe that Vulkan was the leader of this war.
Judging from the aura of the two Primarchs, Finus is more like the leader.
In fact, Vulkan didn't understand why he was chosen as the leader. Finus was more suitable than him, but the Ministry of Military Affairs still chose him.
Mortarion was silent for a moment, silently remembering this unreasonable arrangement, and then the Lord of Death's sharp gaze shifted away. He spoke again, in a casual tone,
[Whether you are a Warmaster candidate or not - in the coming war, as long as the tactics are reasonable, the Death Guard will cooperate with your arrangements.]
Vulkan pursed his lips, he recalled the scene of seeing Mortarion before, the burning hive city, and the rumors... the human planet destroyed by the extermination order.
Even though Mortarion now gave him the feeling of a sickle wrapped in layers of rags, he looked so low-key overall, but he always revealed a vicious cold light in unintentional places.
[Motarion, you cannot... use poisonous weapons, you cannot use weapons that pollute the area, and be careful not to accidentally hurt civilians - although this planet is currently ruled by the Eldar, the Empire needs it to remain intact, and we need the resources on it. ]
Mortarion said nothing, as the poisonous mist surrounding him seemed to envelop him completely.
They heard two heavy breaths from beneath the gas mask, and Mortarion looked like he was about to refute them, but then—
[good.]
Mortarion agreed, and gave them a dark look.
[Send me the remaining information and tactics.]
The Lord of Death walked away.
[Well said.]
Finus patted Vulcan on the shoulder.
[He needs to realize that war is not a game where he can do whatever he wants, and we need to consider the loss ratio.]
Vulkan smiled, but the next moment—
[Perhaps Salamanders should also use less fire element weapons. What do you think of this suggestion, Vulkan? ]
Vulkan's smile faded, well, he muttered.
—————
The Death Guard was deployed in Ibsen's ice field. The good news was that there were no other traces of humans there except for some primitive people running around in animal skins.
This saved the Lord of Death a considerable amount of trouble, and Mortarion still remembered the day he first met Vulkan and Fenus - Fenus was a bastard who only cared about efficiency, and Vulkan's damn empathy was completely inconsistent with his rough appearance.
The first meeting between the three Primarchs had been a complete disaster, Mortarion did not want to recall that memory, it was all in the past, Galasper was fine now, and he needed to face these two damn brothers again, knowing this was enough.
The enemies they faced this time were the Eldar, the Eldar, Mortarion chewed the word slowly in his mouth. He certainly remembered what the Eldar had done, and he was a vengeful person.
He would tear them apart - which somewhat distracted Mortarion from his displeasure at working with these two "brothers".
The Lord of Death set his sights on this ice and snow continent.
The bizarre and gigantic Eldar creations rose from the snowy ice field. The obelisks were engraved with mysterious runes and inlaid with countless fist-sized gems. Under the detection of the bird servant, a hazy psychic halo enveloped these profane buildings, preventing the troops from landing directly.
Mortarion knew why the Death Guard had been sent to this planet. Psionics? He and the Death Guard were good at it.
He scribbled casually on the white map that belonged to him, he connected the nodes, calculated—Mortarion was silent.
The obelisk guided him to the answer. The core of these nodes was among the rainforests, which was the war zone that the Salamanders were responsible for.
Mortarion briefly recalled the size of the Salamander fleet and the number of warriors they had just met.
He suddenly realized... the Death Guard might need to move faster. These nodes are often interconnected. Mortarion does not want to witness failure, nor does he want to let the failure of others interfere with his own.
With the last of the reconnaissance party he had sent out earlier returning, Mortarion began his war.
As a prelude to the war, flash bombs and low-toxic stink bombs were first thrown at the human tribes in the Death Guard's route.
Mortarion looked expressionlessly at the damned savages crying and running around on the ice field. Guided by the wind direction and the stench, most of the savages hid in corners that the Lord of Death didn't care about.
That's enough.
Next, when the storm clouds that had enveloped the ice field on the Aoboros finally dissipated, tanks with six-ring spiked skulls on their armor plates rushed onto the continent—
The rough tracks specially widened by the foundry department left ruts on the white ground, and the dull bone white on the Death Guard armor flashed from time to time between the vehicles.
The roar of the Stormbird's engine rang out over the ice field, always maintaining a fifteen-kilometer lead over the armored forces on the ground. Their situation was far more dangerous than that of the ground forces. In clear weather, the reflection of the snow from the ice field would greatly interfere with the driver's vision.
A sonic red circle spread on the vehicle's servitor, and the air force successfully marked any suspicious landmarks and shelters on the ice field. Unlike the usual enemies they encountered, the cunning Eldar hid themselves in the vast ice field. Except for the obvious deployment of troops at the obelisk nodes, the rest of the place was a sea of white wilderness.
From a safe landing point protected by the orbital fleet, the Death Guard's troops are approaching the Legion's first target node at the fastest marching speed.
On the Endurance, Mortarion stared at the real-time map with complicated data, his skinny fingers resting on the channel switch -
In the vast sky, the biting cold wind began to become chaotic.
Mortarion's voice sounded along with the siren of the foremost airship.
[Kara, D3.]
After a dazzling space distortion, roaring psychic thunderbolts rushed straight towards the Death Guard's Stormbird array. The fleet immediately dispersed. The front plane avoided most of the lightning after a beautiful barrel roll, but its flank was still hit. With thick smoke billowing, it began to make an emergency landing.
The Storm Bird behind it immediately filled the position, aiming at the psychic-distorted space, and rained down heavy explosive bombs.
On the back of the largest dragon, an Eldar wizard raised the scepter in his hand and chanted a spell in a loud voice.
The Death Guard's Stormbirds began to retreat, hoping to increase the distance between themselves and the enemy so that they could deal long-range damage, but the dragon flock's mobility was clearly superior to that of the fighters.
For a moment, the pterosaurs' sharp claws tore at the fighter planes, and they entangled tightly outside the warship. Due to the angle, the Storm Bird could not directly attack the pterosaurs entangled on its fuselage. The dazzling fire lit up, and several metal giants fell onto the ice field.
In the sky, fighter planes began to dogfight with pterosaurs, and on the snowy plains, Garro stood at the forefront of the armored group, holding high his one-handed sword. Behind him, the tanks slowly raised their guns. The Death Guards were in groups of three, and the one in the front was carrying a heavy rocket launcher gun mount.
"emission!"
Missiles whizzed through the sky, leaving countless white smoke trails behind them.
"Foolish monkeys! All you have left is your brutal steel monster!"
The Eldar cursed and waved his scepter, commanding the pterosaurs to avoid the missile swarm. The pterosaurs dodged the missiles that were flying towards them nimbly and prepared to continue attacking the storm birds.
"Bang!"
The first brilliant firework exploded in the air, and scattered burnt and smelly pterosaur carcasses fell.
The Eldar looked back in astonishment, the rain of fire that had been turned away was reflected in his trembling pupils.
He didn't know that the Death Guard's rocket launcher system was provided by the Graeae Forge World and later modified by the Hades Forge Master. The most famous technology of the Graeae is the missile automatic tracking system.
The Eldar raised his scepter, muttering something, and the fluctuating giant net covered the group of dragons centered on him. Garo kept a close eye on the Eldar. Dozens of fireworks hit the target, but the enemy's life signs did not disappear in the thick smoke.
Garo spoke, while he gripped his sword tightly, preparing for the second wave of attack.
"Enrique, hurry up."
"I know, don't rush me!"
The angry voice of the forging master came from the other end of the channel, but Garo ignored it. He raised his sword and shouted,
"emission!"
Fire rained down.
At the other end, in the middle of the armored cluster, Enrique, with a stern face, was squatting and kneeling, carrying a rocket rack that was larger than any other Death Guard used.
Behind him, Technical Sergeant Pasteur seemed to notice nothing. He was staring motionlessly at the Eldar in the sky, constantly correcting the parameters in his eyepiece.
Groups of pterosaurs fluttered in the thick smoke, the fluctuations of psychic energy distorted the space, and the dazzling sunlight reflected an almost blinding light on the snowfield.
Pasteur pulled the trigger.
The huge missile rushed straight into the sky. At high speed, one could vaguely see the words "Gift from Hades" written hastily on its body.
Another tough missile. The Eldar concentrated their energy and a shield appeared that was exactly the same as before.
Then he saw a dog painted on the missile head, wagging its tail at him.
And then, for this elf race, there was nothing else.
[Hades' Gift] was successfully delivered to the "friends" of the Death Guard. Dust exploded, and the group of pterosaurs that had lost their leader were quickly wiped out in the joint offensive of missiles and storm birds.
Garo felt the passion from the sky and pointed his sword forward.
"go ahead!"
He was answered by the roar of a tank engine.
The steel cluster began to flow slowly again. Enrique laughed and patted Pasteur. Pasteur looked at his teacher's teacher in a daze, not knowing why Enrique was so happy.
[Gift from Hades], a missile with a large amount of ashes of the Untouchables in the middle, was jointly developed by Sage Kirkland and the Foundry Department, but another inventor insisted that this creation should be called [Gift from Pluto] - no one paid any attention to him.
Likewise, due to the scarcity of materials, the cost of this gift was extremely high. It was unimaginable to waste a "gift from Hades", and everyone in the foundry department agreed that this was a good pun.
The Death Guard continued to advance, and the white snowfield became messy. The Death Guard had far more people and ammunition than the other side, and it was a crushing defeat. The Lord of Death felt the heartbeat of the other side gradually slowing down.
Garro led his troops to repel the attacks of the Eldar many times. He did not even change the tactics he used each time. Under the huge firepower advantage, the Eldar's painstaking attacks only changed the way they died every time.
Finally, the Death Guard troops advanced to the open space around the obelisk. At this time, the Eldar resistance had reached its most intense level. Countless Eldar warriors rushed out with blades in their hands. Eldar witches chanted spells to manipulate ice, snow and storms. They used themselves as nodes to establish a path that resonated with the obelisk.
The tall witch swung the rune sword, and as she chanted, a giant python as big as a small dragon snaked out from the cave under the obelisk, its scarlet core hissing, and it was staring at the Death Guard in front of it with great interest.
Knowing the high mobility of the Eldar, Garo ordered Enrique to lead most of the armored forces to deploy behind the front line to provide fire support for the front line, instead of letting them rush directly to the battlefield and become toys in the eyes of the agile Eldar.
Fierce artillery fire exploded, and the whole earth was shaking. The Death Guard and the Eldar fought each other, while Garro led three Death Shrouds and tried to hold back the giant python.
In the sky, the Stormbirds of the Death Guard could be described as crazy. They ignored the subsequent return flight and poured all their ammunition into the airspace. They almost artificially created a dark cloud that covered the entire earth.
The Death Guard Antai swung the sickle in his hand, and with brute force he used the sickle to block the sharp blade of the Eldar rushing towards his throat. Sparks flew, and he hooked the sickle with his back hand, and the long and curved sickle blade sneaked into the gap in the Eldar's arms. Antai exerted force suddenly, and a bunch of ripe organs like fallen grapes suddenly appeared in the ice and snow.
An Tai gasped for breath, he stepped forward again to meet the next Eldar rushing towards him. An Tai caught a glimpse of Garo at the front of the line. Even with the highest priority fire support, Garo was already struggling in his fight with the giant python, not to mention those wizards who had been using psychic power to interfere with Garo's battle.
But Garo did not shout any words of retreat in the channel. In contrast, the roar of the Stormbird pilot came from the channel—
"Airspace rights have been obtained!!! Fifteen minutes! Fifteen minutes! You can land!!!"
On the track, Mortarion clenched his scythe tightly in his hand. The Wandering Knights behind him flashed red warning lights in the darkness of the drop pod. The Zeroth Company was ready, and the hatch began to close. The cold white light and the shouts of the Kirkland Sage were getting farther and farther away from them.
In the dull cabin, the Lord of Death could still vaguely hear Kirkland's praises.
"Praise the God of All Machines! Praise Om Messiah! Praise Hades!!!"
"Praise Hades!!!"
Let them give the Eldar a surprise.
The next moment, fire and punishment descended upon Ibsen’s icy plain.
4.2k words! Yay! No more for today!
———
Shit, I almost forgot to recommend the book again!
Recommend books! This guy is a big shot, so I won’t introduce him in detail!
(End of this chapter)