Bang! Bang! Bang!
Countless torpedoes rushed towards the Spirit of Vengeance like moths to a flame. Brilliant fireworks exploded, and huge smoke and explosion shock waves together set off a chaotic storm on the outside of the giant ship.
Bang!!!
On the side of the slowly swimming dark whale, another bright orange fireball exploded. The flames roared into the void, knocking up countless building fragments. The large and small fragments turned into shells and rushed towards Mortarion rapidly!
Damn Conrad!
The close-range explosion almost burned Mortarion's eyes, and the huge shock wave disrupted the Primarch's center of gravity.
In the helpless void, beside the vast Spirit of Vengeance that stretched as far as the eye could see, the Pale Lord was like a speck of grain, pushed and thrown into the stern of the Spirit of Vengeance by the turbulence generated by the explosions of various torpedoes.
In less than a second, the shrapnel rained down like a fast and dense rain, cutting through the Primitive's armor. Mist overflowed from the wounds and was carried away by the rubble, drawing countless white lines in the void.
Thick frost quickly climbed onto the wings and skin, taking away the warmth.
Mortarion felt himself disappearing, which made him sober. Mortarion was returning to the illusory world. The physical world was expelling him with its most extreme laws, extreme cold, no oxygen, high radiation -
As he rolled over, the battlefield was reflected in the Primarch's suddenly shrinking pupils.
The giants are fighting.
The corpses of countless battleships and cruisers were slowly sinking. The carrier-based aircraft and frigates were like a school of swimming sardines, almost covering the entire endless void. The faint light of the void shield was rendered layer by layer, and the flashes of torpedoes and light spears even dimmed the stars.
The corpses of the fleets were everywhere, almost densely enough to affect the gravity in the void. On them, there was occasionally a pattern flashing a strange light - that might be the only trace left by humans in this naval battle.
Those flashes of light exploded one by one, and each explosion was a miniature spark. They swayed on the battlefield, and then were broken by the sound of the golden horn and dissipated into the void.
Behind that, behind the huge ships fighting to the death, behind the dazzling sea of flowers, Cardia, which was faintly glowing with fluorescence, turned around.
Several layers of gauze wrapped around Cadia, which were the tides of the warp and the auroras caused by the chaos of the magnetic field.
Under the aurora, the thick clouds were broken by the storm, and thin spears of light as thin as straws pointed to the earth. The small beams of light seemed to have no effect on the planet, but every time the beams lit up, Mortarion's pupils dilated a little.
He drifted in the void, and Mortarion remembered Horus' words. At this moment, the battlefield belonged to the warships. He made a mistake -
He failed.
Mortarion failed.
He could have killed Horus.
But the gap is too big.
The gap is too big!
The gap was not between Mortarion and Lupercal, but between their fleets. The Warmaster's army stretched from one end of the void to the other, with countless different banners now flying under the banner of the Sons of Horus.
In Mortarion's eyes, he saw the warmaster's ships of various shapes.
He saw weapons and modified engines that he had never seen before.
This is not a war between individuals. From the first murder in human history, to the fighting between nobles, to the religious wars against heresy, to the First World War - and even the Iron Man Rebellion in the eternal darkness, the scale of war has been expanding step by step until this race burns its last grain of food and its last life in the flames of war.
This is the grave where trillions of lives have fallen.
This is also a battlefield that spans the long history of mankind.
From the discovery of gravity, to the invention of the first airplane by the Wright brothers, to Gagarin's entry into space, to the first step on the moon, to the extinguishing of the fire of reason, the Martian Cult has re-launched an expedition in search of knowledge towards the broken galaxy. Tens of thousands of rough calculation papers have been piled up to form the smallest frigates. A magnificent battleship can even reduce the weight of the mother planet on which it is built by 1%.
This is the war on the physical side. Before the laws of governance, the balance of victory will tilt towards the side of mass and information accumulation.
Sheer quantity coupled with sheer technology.
Now, the scales of victory were tipping towards Horus.
Without Trazyn... Mortarion could not imagine what the outcome would be, but even though the strange alien had made a pact with him, the Pale Lord still despaired of whether the pact could be fulfilled.
He couldn't trust aliens.
He only trusts himself.
Mortarion's arm, stretched out to Cadia, was stiff. The thick frost almost completely submerged him. Above Cadia, the regular circular concave plain was like a pupil, staring coldly at him through thousands of warships.
He is too arrogant.
He assigned an almost impossible task to Vorcus, and placed all his hopes on boarding and beheading. He thought that if he got rid of Horus, the only ones left would be defeated soldiers, but Horus laughed at him with absolute reality.
When the Warmaster's fleet was almost crushing him, why did Horus want to fight him in a one-on-one personal duel to decide the outcome of the war
Mortarion's psychic achievements paralyzed him, and the Warp gave him illusions.
He is not yet able to shake the entire battlefield with his own strength.
He watched as the White Scars and Night Lords fleets joined the naval battle, but they were just a drop in the ocean - perhaps he should wait for the Ultramarines - no, but then it would be too late -
—Why the fuck…why…why…why?!
The anger of being fooled and failing burned fiercely. Surrounded by the physical world, Mortarion felt extremely unwilling and humiliated. Failure was like a drooping sickle blade, pressing against his neck.
Mortarion always accepted defeat - except this time - he could have killed Horus - damn Konrad - why?!
He won't accept this failure!
Amidst billions of flames, the Primarch's vision caught a decisive glimmer of fire. In the void where the wreckage of the Death Guard battleship was floating, a faint light appeared on the battleship.
All around it, the Death Guard warships that had attempted to intercept it were sunk, their mangled remains floating aimlessly in the air, as if mocking the Pale Lord.
There was no battleship left to intercept the torpedo.
Mortarion watched the torpedo slowly but surely move towards Cadia.
He stretched out his hand, trying to block the sparks in the sky, but it was in vain.
But the outcome remains unchanged.
Can Trazyn successfully take Hades away? Now the magnetic field and the warp on Cadia are completely chaotic. Is there really a teleportation device that can operate normally? Mortarion didn't dare to think about it. He didn't even want to pray - he was just angry, angry at his own weakness.
If the Death Guard had 50,000 more men, would he have been able to stop Horus before the end of all things? If the Death Guard's fleet had doubled, would the Death Guard have been able to defeat Horus's fleet and stop the torpedo
If only Guilliman's fleet had been faster... No, the Ultramarines fleet's engines had reached their limit.
At this moment, would Mortarion regret slacking off on the construction of his warships? Would he regret not asking for more from the Mechanicum? If he had lowered his standards a little more - been a little more unscrupulous - a little more politically savvy, the Legion would surely be much larger than it is now.
At this moment, Mortarion deeply understood the various policies implemented by Hades in the legion.
His past arrogance, prejudice and laziness finally caused Mortarion to reap the consequences. Weakness was still his original sin, and now it was all too late. He needed to rely on others for his only chance of survival - he could only wait for others to give him victory... No... No, no no no no no no.
He was angry and unwilling - there was nothing more Mortarion could do, but there was one thing he could do to comfort his tormented soul - he would kill Horus!
He wants to kill him!
To commemorate his deceased comrades and descendants with blood!
Only blood can quench Mortarion's rage!
Mortarion wanted death! He wanted Horus' death! He wanted to use Horus's head to mark Mortarion's failure. He regretted that he realized too late - he could have been more powerful!
Beside the side wall of the huge Spirit of Vengeance, the mist that had broken and dissipated began to gather again. After adapting to the void, Mortarion began to absorb death again.
In the corner of his vision, he saw the warp tides rolling up on the battlefield, which helped Mortarion resist the expulsion of the physical world - perhaps the false gods once again participated in this naval battle, but Mortarion knew that this was no longer a battlefield he could reach.
In the storm, the ice shell cracked and the butterfly began to flap its wings again.
From a macroscopic perspective, it is a slowly moving giant ship, but in the eyes of an individual, it is a galloping storm. Mortarion chases the storm, flying in the void - even though there is no airflow to support his wings.
1.4 seconds after Mortarion was thrown from the Vengeful Spirit, Mortarion regained control of his body.
It hurts, very much so, the butterfly is torn apart by the storm and then healed by tremendous willpower.
The rapidly falling gravel scraped across his body, leaving scratches on it. Mortarion sped along, and the giant scythe was condensed again in his hand. He saw the window that had thrown him out, and with a twist of his wrist, he threw out the giant scythe of annihilation!
He was going to kill Horus!
——————
[Terra]
In the cold wind, Dorn's white-gold hair swayed slightly.
He was looking up, gazing at the starry sky above the Terra Hollow Mountains with Vulkan.
At this moment, perhaps due to the large number of psychics gathered, the sky they saw was in a more hazy stage. The stars with sharp edges turned into a more hazy existence, distorted by the light of the void shield.
Countless different colors of black and dark blue are twisted in the sky, and the texture looks like frantic oil painting brushstrokes.
Dorn frowned. He did not think that the naked eye could see the [preview] that Vulkan mentioned. The Primarch tried hard to look in the direction of the Eye of Terror, but only saw a few dim black lines.
He turned his head to look at Vulkan, but saw that the Lord of Fire Dragons was staring at the sky in fascination, muttering to himself, with flames in his eyes.
Dorn paused, turned his head again, and waited for Vulkan with his arms folded.
Do you think he will be merciful
Vulkan suddenly said this, and Dorn's eyebrows almost twisted together, [Who is "he"? ]
Our Father.
Dorn raised his eyebrows. [Now is not the time to talk about this topic, Vulkan. You need to make sure the timing is right.]
Vulkan lowered his eyes, and hesitated in his words, [Okay... I just... You can relight the Astronomican, but the distance will take some time.]
Dorne turned around and left almost immediately. Before leaving, he glared at Vulkan with dissatisfaction, but Vulkan just sighed and said nothing.
[…]
He stared at the sky, and what he saw in the fire dragon's eyes was no longer the starry sky, but the surging vast ocean. He saw the light that went out and flickered at that moment.
Vulkan stamped his feet uncomfortably. Beneath him, deep beneath the Imperial Palace, sat their father, the Emperor's Sword flat on his knees, ready for battle.
No, he was always fighting.
Vulkan told himself.
but…
[Cruel...]
Vulkan muttered, no... He thought of the archangel he saw in the webway... Why was he so cruel... Could it be that he didn't love his offspring...
Behind him, the endless mountains trembled, and the Lord of Fire Dragon seemed to hear the cries of the psychics. Boulders rolled down from the ridges like debris shaken off by a giant when he stood up.
Dorn moved quickly.
The tremendous energy accumulates, and bits of golden light float up like fireflies. The snow melts and roars towards the buildings at the foot of the mountain. After a brief darkness, the star torch will be rekindled.
Light a path for him to Cadia.
After three months, the Eye of Terra opened again.
(End of this chapter)