This is a war unique to steel, machinery and gunpowder.
In the rugged arena of life and death where steel and iron grow, the winner steps onto the throne while the loser becomes rust.
Steel collides with steel, and gods fight with gods.
———
Iron shoes rushed onto the plain, and the warships broke through the fog. Amid the roar, the hot engines vibrated with the fighting spirit of unsheathing sharp blades.
The cold wind blew across the Primarch's cold and stern face as if it had been cut by a knife. He strode forward, and the hammer, the Forgebreaker, plowed gently across the earth. On the bloody soil, the fine steel was gleaming with a gleam of light.
Beside Fenumanus, the lines of the predators were moving slowly forward. Above the reflections of iron and iron, the colors of the Brutal Blade, the Land Predator, and the Malcadortan were flowing. And on the more distant battlefield, the towering figures of the Titans and the Knights were stepping on countless steel torrents.
The Iron Spike mechas were also moving forward on the battlefield. Above their heads, Storm Birds were roaring past, shrieking and tearing open pieces of safe airspace.
"Flesh and blood are weak!"
The roar of wind and steam shattered the battle cry of the Iron Father into tiny pieces of anger, and replaced it with the roar of engines that never stopped. Binary hymns sang the praises of justice and truth, scarlet cloth flowed through the torrent of steel, the Death Slaves flashed with deadly cold light, and the Sages and Crusaders shouted praises—
Due to the harshness and high intensity of the war, the Iron Hands is not a legion that mortal auxiliary forces are willing to choose. Therefore, under Fenus, the Iron Hands auxiliary forces are mostly composed of Crusaders and Restoration Orders. Of course, battle-hardened mortal veterans are also part of the Iron Hands auxiliary forces.
The storm blows, but the steel is not afraid.
The torrent of iron advanced slowly, engulfing one black stone obelisk after another. The artillery fire was but the faint sound of waves in the ocean of metal.
Beneath the black stone obelisk, dazzling and ominous arcs of psychic energy lit up. The steel warriors were fearless, and the silvery-white liquid metal slowly flowed through their armor, leaving different veins.
The black-armored mortal warriors silently accompanied the Iron Father of the clan, and darkness as thin as black gauze enveloped them, devouring the light of witchcraft.
[come out,]
Finus said calmly, his iron-grey eyes reflecting the long, dull horizon ahead, dark and shrouded by weapons.
[Perturabo, come out.]
Finus said, he felt the anger burning in his eyes, he felt him, steel resonating with steel, his fiery pulse announcing the presence of another.
“Here I come.”
Intermittent notifications came from the communication channel. The Order of Silence where Hades was always maintaining a delay of one war zone with them. Behind the legion, the dark black stone obelisks indicated the approach of Pluto.
Fenus breathed calmly, surrounded by his Iron Fathers of different clans, and he felt the vague feeling of powerlessness fade away - this was not a good thing, it meant that the psychic ownership of this space was being taken over.
A surging red light flashed in Fenu's eyes.
The scorching orange dyed the sky red, and the heat wave rolled.
The chains collided with each other, causing continuous screams. Finus' pupils dilated slightly for a moment. He thought he was prepared, but the moment he saw such a blasphemous thing, Finus took a deep breath with a trembling breath.
Flesh and blood were torn apart and twisted together with steel. Flames appeared in the blazing furnace. The charred flesh and blood were melted by the high temperature and dripped with smelly oil. Painful roars came from the layers of chains and steel bars. The devil was sealed in the abominable machine and became the power that drove its engine.
A creature of flesh, demons, and steel...
… This is complete madness.
Fenus stared at the creation, a blasphemous hybrid of flesh and machine... His heart beat angrily, and the feeling of being insulted burned in his brain.
The imprisoned and driven demons howled miserably, and the sound and heat waves together played the prelude to the steel war. One after another, blasphemous objects of steel emerged from the horizon.
At their feet were expressionless Iron Warriors, whose helmets reflected the flames from hell. The Iron Warriors and the monsters from hell stood together in front of Fenus.
Finus tightened his grip on the Hearthbreaker, he calculated, and then—
[attack.]
He said softly.
This was a clash of iron fists. Any clever moves would turn into ridiculous tricks under an absolute frontal attack. It seemed that both sides thought so.
Here they stood, on the plain, charging towards each other, unabashedly displaying the sharp blade called the Legion.
The Stormbird took the lead in cooperating with the ground firepower to draw a graceful arc in the air. The roar of the engine drowned out the howling wind. The bird servant aimed and locked. At the last moment, the ammunition exposed in the cabin reflected the faint fire on the ground.
The gunfire from the Iron Hands ground vehicles brushed past the hovering Stormbird, almost colliding with it, but with precise calculations, the ammunition whizzed forward and slammed into the Iron Warriors' shells. A huge cloud of gunpowder exploded, and the end of the smoke, accompanied by solid debris, fell to the ground.
The intact hull of the Stormbird suddenly rushed out from the gray fireworks, fearlessly facing the oncoming warships. Pairs of fighting figures flew rapidly in the air, dancing a deadly and gorgeous multi-person dance like dueling Eldar clowns.
In the vast sky, on average, one could hear the dying scream of a fighter plane crashing into the wilderness every twenty seconds.
The heavy footsteps of the War Machine slammed into the earth, Titan faced Titan, Knight faced Knight, the black barrel of the Predator was aimed at the Predator, and amidst the war roars, the sharp sword of the Iron Hand slashed at the Iron Warrior.
The skulls of the dead gleamed brightly on the armor. An Immortal of the Iron Hands roared and rushed towards the opposite side. Immortals belonged to no clan. Only Immortals were willing to provide the final place of glory for those who had committed sins. They were the redeemers who charged first on the battlefield.
"For Finus!!!"
He roared and fired a volley of bullets at the opposite side. The Iron Warrior who was facing him turned sideways and used his shoulder armor to block the attack. At the same time, a stream of plasma rushed straight to his helmet. He rushed forward fearlessly, raised his sword and chopped down. The power sword cut the steel, and a sword light also slashed towards his waist.
Without any hesitation or dodging, the Immortal thrust his sword forward!
A smooth whooshing sound was heard, and he used his other hand to throw away the sword that had become powerless and was stuck at his waist. The Immortal's power sword pierced the enemy's head from the chin, and sticky scarlet blood flowed from the upright sword. He drew out the sword without hesitation, and the enemy's body knelt down in front of him.
He rushed to the next one.
The same scene happened in every corner of this front. The blood of the Iron Warriors and the blood of the Iron Hands soaked the earth.
The Skitarii rushed towards the enemy in a fanatical suicide attempt to buy a moment of opportunity for the Iron Hands. The barrels and plasma guns had already overheated, but silver tears slowly flowed down, and they were still able to faithfully complete their mission.
After a brief battle, each Iron Clan, led by the Iron Father, fought fiercely with the Iron Warriors with the Great Sage in the auxiliary army as the core. The Great Sage was not an important role in the usual war, but at this moment, accompanied by the Sage's loud prayers praising Ohm Messiah and Hades, the faint green arc was slowly lighting up -
Everyone knows what this means!
Fenus wielded the Hearthbreaker, and the blasphemous, fetid flesh of Vashtor, the Soul Grinder of the Creator, splattered, leaving streaks of flesh on his armor.
Fenus listened with coldness and anger as the demon beneath his feet let out a shrill wail. This was a creature from the Warp... The force feedback from his palms clearly told him this.
Following his soulless companions, they strode onto the pile of rotten flesh and scrap metal, and the demon finally shut up forever after a scream.
[For the Emperor!!!]
Fenus shouted, his voice tearing through the sky, and countless war cries sounded in an instant, responding to their father.
The ocean of war roars was broken by the discordant sound of steel rubbing against each other. Fenus frowned as he smelled an unbearable stench.
A monster with jagged steel wings behind it emerged from the blasphemous creations, disgusting cable worms twisted and looked at Fenus, bright arcs of abomination crackled, and ominous white light gathered on the craftsman's hammer.
The evil monster was standing far away on the horizon, with the hellfire that looked like the sunrise illuminating the sky. It looked at Fenus mockingly from afar, which made Fenus feel even more angry.
The space began to tremble uneasily. With the appearance of Vashtor, the flames of hatred blazed, and the pale green arc flickered unsteadily. Finus frowned, and he began to call Hades, who responded. Hades told the Lord of Medusa that he would need more than ten minutes to arrive at the battlefield.
At the same time, Fenus saw the figure of Perturabo.
Amid the noisy and chaotic battlefield, Fenus's world went blank for a brief moment, leaving only the buzzing sound in his head.
Perturabo... just stood there.
The Lord of Steel was standing there, right next to Vashtor, shoulder to shoulder with the monster.
Perturabo had grown even larger. He was not a tall Primarch, but now Fenus was sure that Perturabo was taller than him.
Perturabo was wearing a brand new set of Terminator armor, which was wrapped with twisting cables similar to those of Vashtor. Dazzling white arcs of electricity rose around him, and his eyes were shining with bright yellow lights.
He was... different.
Finus stared at Perturabo, and Perturabo stared at him, and then a mocking laugh appeared at the corner of Perturabo's mouth.
My brother,
He said that the voice came from all directions, and Fenus realized with horror and sickness that it came from the mouths of every Iron Warrior.
[Long time no see, you are still so willing to be a tool in the hands of others. ]
[I have nothing to discuss with traitors! ]
Fenus roared, staring at Perturabo angrily, and the exquisite backpack on his back unfolded countless deep gun barrels.
[You, what did you do to the Iron Warriors?! How did you treat them?!]
Finus scolded Perturabo, and his words were accompanied by the Iron Hands advancing fiercely. Perturabo and Vashtor had already appeared, and the Iron Hands' artillery fire rushed towards them like an endless mountain and sea.
[And you?]
Perturabo spoke slowly as he began to walk slowly towards Fenus in the ranks of the Iron Warriors. The sea of Iron Warriors automatically parted and closed again, as if they were in sync with the heartbeat and pulse of the same person.
Then, the commandos who had been inserted into the Iron Warriors' battle line like a wedge began to receive death communications. Countless death messages poured towards Fenus like snowflakes - in an instant, the Iron Warriors they faced became stronger, more agile, and more skilled in martial arts.
Perturabo smiled at Fernus and said,
I thought you and I were similar.
Fenus spat on the ground beside him, and the ground soaked in blood and flesh made a hissing sound.
[Why are you so obsessed with working for him, Finus? ]
Perturabo said calmly, with a deep and dangerous light in his eyes. He seemed to have been through a lot.
[What did he give us? We could have been freer and more independent, our own masters, rather than puppets of his bloated empire.]
[In order to maintain the integrity of his empire, the Iron Warriors had to fight against those worthless alien civilizations, ignite the flames of war on human planets that yearn for peace, and build trenches on countless planets that are not suitable for survival - just to defend the so-called checkpoints and fortresses. ]
Perturabo sneered, as if mocking his past self.
[And he...]
Perturabo said softly,
[There is no place for us or the Legion in the future he wants. He has begun to abandon us, hasn't he? ]
[Why do you still persist in your mistake?]
Perturabo said, but he was already within direct range of the Fenus's crafted backpack, so Fenus chose to answer Perturabo's question with artillery fire.
He raised the Hearthbreaker, the weapon Fulgrim had forged for him gleaming with light.
The next moment, the Titans, blasphemous creations of flesh and machine, rushed towards Fenus together with Perturabo.
————
[traitor!!!]
Finus roared, and the sound of explosions exploded in his ears. With great anger, the Furnace Breaker produced a sonic boom in the air, and the exploding white waves instantly submerged the two fighting creatures, but Perturabo and Finus did not slow down at all.
Perturabo no longer had the mocking expression he had before. The Lord of Steel tensed his face, gritted his teeth and fought against the attack of the Lord of Medusa with all his strength. The short-range firepower on the Fenus's craftsman backpack was being directed at Perturabo at all costs, and Perturabo had to dodge embarrassingly again and again.
Next to the two fighting people, the demonic machinery that was blown into pieces by the firepower of the Seiko Backpack was lying on the ground like a pile of mud. The Iron Warrior's Titan served as a long-range fire support platform, tying down the remaining firepower of the Seiko Backpack. Finus had to draw out part of his firepower to fight against and eliminate the Titan's fire fired at him.
The two Primarchs were fighting each other, and no one could intervene in their war. Finus was no longer able to take care of the battle situation around him at this time. The Iron Warriors began to push back, and the Iron Hands around Finus, who had rushed into the Iron Warriors camp with him, began to fall into decline.
Standing under the black stone obelisk, Vashtor chanted the spell loudly. Beside it, the cracks in the warp appeared faintly, and the vague and indescribable power of faith surrounded the Lord of Fire.
As Vashtor's hammer of the craftsman was swung, worm-like steel cables and white arcs of electricity flared up, and a tide of psychic energy washed over the battlefield, beating the soul of every living being.
+… +
+I am the master of all things!!! +
Some of the Sages and Crusaders suddenly began to scream in pain. In the Iron Clan closest to the front line, the Iron Father was shocked to see the metal worms suddenly exploded from the Sage's head.
"For... Ohm... Messiah..."
Intermittent sounds came out of the sage's mouth.
The Iron Hands immediately pointed their grenade launchers at the fallen Sage. After a burst of fire, the Sage's body collapsed to the ground.
Behind the battle line, Hades, who was standing on the Galloping Knight, took a deep breath.
He clenched the obituary, blood gushing from the corner of his mouth. Hades subconsciously stroked the middle finger bone given by the Emperor in his neck, and he recalled... recalled that day.
The next moment, a violent green electric arc exploded!
"False God,"
The radio waves roared far away, flowing like a stream into the minds of every believer in the God of All Things.
Hades said calmly, silver anti-gravity tears surrounding him.
"This is heresy. People who believe in the truth, kill it."
The next moment, the Iron Hands witnessed in amazement the great sages' clothes bursting as countless hidden weapons were deployed.
"For Ohm Messiah! For Hades!!!"
Dead line!
(End of this chapter)