The clearance work in the Octareus star field went exceptionally smoothly.
The main reason is that the war between the Orks and the Tyranids consumed too much power on both sides. In this star field, many planets have become wastelands and are almost completely useless to the Empire.
The Ork and Tyranid troops wandering in the area were found and destroyed by the Empire's army one after another because they had no supplies or hiding places.
Among them, Hades provided many valuable suggestions on how to wipe out the greenskins and Tyranids.
He directly provided the list of greenskins to be shot in the Greenskin Empire.
It lists most of the famous greenskins in the Underworld Empire and the greenskin forces under them.
The Empire did not cross out all the names on this list. At least four-fifths of the Orks on this list had already died in the war with the Terrans, and their bodies were nowhere to be found - they could not be recovered or further destroyed.
Hades did not expect the Empire to be able to capture and sterilize every big greenskin. Considering the efficiency of the Empire, their current actions can be considered astonishingly efficient.
Hades played with the black stone ornaments around his waist. Every time a greenskin warlord and his forces were confirmed dead, he would take off and destroy one ornament.
Finally... the only thing left was the black skull that symbolized the big front teeth.
However, most of the greenskin fleet under Dasfang's command had been confirmed to be destroyed. After repeated searches and still no news, the Hades had no choice but to give up this action.
… Hades wished it were dead.
During this month, Hades did not directly lead the army. With the help of Mingzi's database, Hades was studying the current situation of the empire, the newly developed strategies and tactics in the past ten thousand years, and the logistics supply plan...
No matter when and where you go to the database, you will see Pluto with his head buried in studying - no, half of his brain is plugged with a data cable to transfer data.
This also stimulated the enthusiasm of the sons of Pluto for learning. They got off the shuttle, with blood still coagulating on the sickles in their hands, and went straight to the information room - you looked at me, I looked at you, picked up a few political materials, and pretended to read them.
It should be stated in advance that there has been a strong political interest among the Hades since before the advent of Hades.
But most of them are limited to bragging to each other.
As well as fooling ordinary Imperial administrators, and deceiving some Space Marines who are only interested in war and have no interest in Imperial politics.
Not listening to the Son of Hades' nonsense has long been an unspoken agreement within the Death Guard.
Looking at the full data room, Hades smiled without saying anything. Having witnessed countless cans worshipping the Primarch, he certainly knew what was going on.
If anyone is brave enough to come and ask him questions, Hades will answer them.
Of course, if the person is just pretending and asking confusing questions, Hades will just give him a few words of criticism.
The son of Pluto is studious, and Hades is happy to see that.
It's just... Hey! That Mechanical Sage over there! How did you get into the exclusive data room of the Son of Hades? ! Which little bastard brought him in? ! !
Hades thinks the son of Pluto is good in every way, except that he is sometimes too bold and does a lot of outrageous things.
He had reason to suspect that before him, the actions of these guys were even more outrageous.
—————
The meeting with King-306 was not so dramatic. On top of Kokutus, Hades met King-306 who had arrived late.
Before meeting Jin, Hades heard many descriptions of Jin from Hades through the Son of Hades. In short, as the greatest contributor to the establishment of Hades, Sage Jin is a hot-tempered old man.
Hades thought for a moment, if every recruit selected to join the Sons of Hades was so... active, then Jin's temper was justified.
But when he really saw Jin, Jin just lifted up his red robe and bowed deeply.
"Praise you."
The electronic sound was calm, and then Jin straightened up and fell silent.
He just stood there.
If there were a narrator on the side of the Son of Hades, he would have recorded this interesting scene: countless Sons of Hades gathered around Hades, while the sage in a red robe stood alone opposite Hades.
Compared to ten thousand years ago, Jin seemed to have changed a lot.
Hades opened his mouth to speak, but Jin was still very businesslike, respectful yet distant. The atmosphere seemed a little off. Hades thought about it and decided not to embarrass Jin anymore.
After explaining the situation, Jin left.
He couldn't ask every old friend to be exactly the same as they were ten thousand years ago. Hades thought that perhaps Jin's personal memory of him had become very vague, but judging by deeds rather than intentions, all the merits and hard work of the past ten thousand years were accomplished by Jin.
After Hades confirmed that there was no problem with Jin, he said no more.
During these ten thousand years, Kirkland had become more fanatical, while King had become calmer.
Hades thought.
But after that, Hades ran into Jin who was fighting with Kirkland... and Buzz Bella who was watching and teasing the two gladiator sages.
Amid the deafening explosion, Hades decided to take back his words that he thought King had become calmer.
Seeing Hades' confusion, Butz went to Hades specifically to explain the matter.
Simply put, King deliberately placed his focus on training the next generation, and the next generation, and the next next generation... Unlike Kirkland, who anchored himself with the ultimate goal, King chose to use other things to dilute the fact that he was an old man.
Hades expressed his understanding and welcomed Jin to come to him anytime if he had any difficulties.
Buz passed the message on, but Jin still had no reaction. After a long time, the mechanical servant beside Jin recorded a sigh from the great sage.
Someone always needs to be awake.
He doesn't want to be the next Kirkland, he needs to have his own thoughts and considerations.
Pluto, on the contrary, forgave his disrespect... which in turn... made Jin even more emotional.
He realized that his path to upholding his professional integrity was going to be difficult.
—————
Macragge
Another insect plague.
New branches sprouted from the black wood burned by the gunpowder smoke. A starling was hopping around, and colorful streaks of light slid across its moving feathers.
Calgar looked up and stared at the little bird in a trance. As if he felt the gaze of the Ultramarines Legion Commander, the starling cried, flapped its wings and flew away, leaving only the trembling new branches.
Calgar had no choice but to lower his head, gathering the layers of papers on the desk in vain and with some resignation, and continued to review the documents.
In recent years, Macragge has once again suffered from the Zerg's plunder since the Tyranid invasion two hundred years ago, but the good news is that this Tyranid force suddenly disappeared in the middle of the war.
According to legend, this Tyranid fleet sailed to Octares.
The Octares star region has been controlled by the Death Guard, and Calgar is not aware of the specific information.
But for the commander of the Ultramarines, the attack of Tyranids will never stop - some wise men in the legion have put forward a hypothesis that the five hundred worlds have been listed as key attack star areas by Tyranids.
They can only continue to defend.
From the dense, overwhelming swarm of insects, some people remained in the disaster forever, while the survivors continued to walk. When the wind blew, the old trees sprouted new branches, and the birds would eventually sing again.
Although his leg bones that were shattered by Tyranids were aching slightly, and the faint smell of medical gel lingered in his nose for a long time after leaving the emergency room, Calgar was sure that he had survived, just like Macragge this time.
Suppressing the pain that had not yet healed, Calgar reviewed the documents. Most of the planets in the Five Hundred Worlds were in urgent need of reconstruction, and the defense projects destroyed by the Tyranids had to be repaired... On some planets, the old injuries from the last Tyranid attack had not yet healed.
He opened the letter from Terra.
Karga frowned.
Beneath the layers of seals were greetings from the High Lords—praising the Ultramarines for their feat in fighting the Tyranids, and then asking if the Five Hundred Worlds needed support from the Empire.
support
Karga's eyes turned gloomy.
Last time... they tried the same thing, but because they were afraid of the Death Guard who were on good terms with the Ultramarines, they had to give up.
This time... It seems that even Terra has learned about the commotion caused by the Death Guard.
The paper between Calgar's fingers made a snapping sound.
The High Lords are not stupid. Terra only wants the planets on the edge of the Five Hundred Worlds. To be fair, after the wreaking of havoc by Tyranids, it is indeed a difficult problem for the Extreme Warriors who lack talent to manage the huge Five Hundred Worlds.
But that doesn't mean they can't manage it.
Calgar knew what the High Lords meant. If the Ultramarines did not give in, the High Lords would probably cause "some problems" on the planets on the edge of the Five Hundred Worlds.
If soft tactics don’t work, try hard tactics.
Karga frowned. He was unwilling to give up these worlds. Once the opening was opened, it would never be taken back.
But at this time... In the Five Hundred Worlds, Calgar was unwilling to ignite the war again.
No, it must not be let out.
He was silent, and the new leaves outside the window were still green.
The servant came in, put a letter beside the silent Calgar, and left again.
Karga sighed, raised his hand to rub his brow, and casually glanced at the new letter. A familiar and annoying self-portrait was printed on it.
It was an expedited, top-level private letter from Buzz Bella, with a scribbled little human head making a victory sign.
Karga took a deep breath.
He thought of the empty display case in the side exhibition hall of the temple.
It's not that he disrespects this old senior, but the style of the Son of Pluto makes Boots' reputation in the Ultramarines very delicate.
Although it was Buzz who helped the Ultramarines many times, such as dealing with Terran politicians, communicating with the Death Guard, and repelling the Tyranids...
But he is just too out of touch personally.
If I had to describe it... it's not that serious.
Although the Son of Pluto has an excellent reputation within the Five Hundred Worlds, he is still quite a burden to the management of the Extreme Marines.
While thinking about how to deal with Terra, Calgar pressed his finger on the envelope. After it was identified, he opened the letter from Mingzi.
My dear Ultramarines:
I've been away for so long, I miss my hometown so much! Calgar, is the tax collection in the Five Hundred Worlds normal recently? Have you repelled the Tyranids? Have you consoled the Death Guards
My work has been solved. Although the process was a bit scary, the result is generally good. It will be convenient for me to report to Karas then. If I'm lucky, I might even be able to talk back to him a few more times.
I know you are curious about what happened to me and why I was suddenly carried away by the Death Guards overnight.
There was nothing else to do, so I was entrusted with finding the Father of Genes.
Found it by the way.
Alive~
There's nothing else to say, just wanted to tell you.
Your Macragge, Buzz Bella
Off topic: Seven days later, Hades will visit Macragge, Calga, I hope you are ready.
Another side note: Terra is not aware of Pluto's return at the moment - young man, seize the opportunity~
]
At the end of the letter was a stamp used by the Son of Pluto to discuss serious matters.
oh.
Hades is coming to visit Macragge.
—Wait?! Who????!!!
There was a loud crash! Karga stood in front of the desk, and the stool behind him had already fallen to the ground.
who
And — how many days? Seven days, seven days later? ! ! !
—————
[garden]
One greenskin... Two greenskins... Three... Six...
Dark brown dirty blood slowly flowed from the mud pit. Corpses, swollen corpses, mutilated corpses, still corpses... Corpses that were still breathing, corpses that were still alive.
Tiny bubbles emerged from the mouth of Vox, who was lying in the mud.
He was still alive, but he was rotting and swelling.
His consciousness remained, but it became blurred along with his life. Vorx listened attentively to the roar of the Orks in the distance. He counted slowly, and every seven would provide him with the motivation to live.
One, two, three... six... seven.
seven…
He slowly thought of the defeated Eldar. At the last moment, they had cowarded, they had betrayed, in the face of Nurgle, they had turned their backs on their allies and chosen to escape.
Then they all fell into the stagnation of Nurgle.
Four, five...
He thought of the fog that had lingered in Barbarus all year round, of the Seventh Company, of the dueling cage... and then of the battle... the battle that would never end.
+He's over here... +
There was a noise in the distance, the noise was louder and softer, and it scratched his eardrums harshly.
seven…
"Leave him alone! Run!!!"
+… +
+And the Eldar… +
Mortarion said with difficulty, +We can't leave for now... Let him go back first... Go back... Rest... +
The Primarch held a gun in one hand, with white mist rising from the gun. He bent down slightly and pulled Vorx out of the mud with one hand.
Mortarion strode forward, his gun blazing at the Nurgle Legion, and he took the hand of his commander, Vorkos, and slammed it inward, causing Vorkos to retch violently.
+… not dead yet. +
Clang! Clang! Clang! Karas knocked the sickle three times with his machete, and a white mist rose up, providing shelter for their temporary stay.
Karas looked at Vox, who was vomiting desperately, with a complicated expression.
Just one step away, and his and Vox's fates would have been reversed.
Buried in the Garden of Nurgle and eating... dirt, that's fine.
“… My father… Ugh… Cough cough cough!!!”
Vox struggled and said,
"I... can still fight for you... I don't have to... go back..."
Mortarion weighed Vorcus. In the distance, the 305th fire support of the Death Guard began. The dim green sky was torn apart by the tight orange-red. White flowers rose up, but the edges were outlined by hazy black.
That is the negative black stone powder mixed in the missile.
+Go. +
The Primarch spoke briefly, leading the assault troops to continue moving.
+Don't worry... +Mortarion glanced at Vorx, +He's back, Vorx... Go back... +
(End of this chapter)